The prosecutor’s office needed him to say what he’d seen when he first arrived. Too bad that opened the defense attorneys up to exactly what she’d told Rhys about Jordan.
I thought I loved him. I was so stupid. I thought he loved me.
The admission would be on every gossip site, every celebrity magazine, every social media outlet no matter the judge’s gag order. And even if the gag order held up, the moment she gaveled the trial to a close, it would be public record.
She’d been a fool. She had trusted him for the last year and only just learned that Rhys would testify. If he fell over dead, she wouldn’t be upset.
Dad dropped his shoulders as though this argument was aging him. “Iam your issue. You’re my daughter, skyrocketing into the public eye. Every day, you’re more visible. And because of that, this is how it has to be.”
“You raised Abigail and me in this life.” Her award-winning father had directed blockbuster after blockbuster. Her scriptwriting mother had more credits to her name than most had in a lifetime. “No one has sicced Rhys on Abigail.”
“You’re being obtuse.” Her dad rubbed his temples. “Abigail has taken a different route in life. If you want her path, fine. Take that path.”
Jules bit her lip. She didn’t. And she knew she sounded like a total spoiled diva. She just couldn’t get over how angry Rhys made her.
Dad continued, “Abigail deals with security when it’s necessary, and she does so without making a fuss.”
All of that, Jules knew. Abigail’s boring life as an accountant didn’t cause gossip-hunting tabloids to stir. Social media frenzies and live streamers didn’t flock to places where she might meet her friends. Never had Abigail dealt with fans who blurred the lines between fantasy and the real world. But that didn’t mean Rhys had to lord over her life like a disgruntled god of responsibility.
“Anyone but Rhys.”
“No. He’s the deal-breaker,” Dad said.
She glared at him.
“Until you found out that he was testifying, everything worked smoothly.”
True. She’d been eternally grateful to him. He’d pulled her out of a frozen hell. Rhys had saved her life. “Don’t you see how embarrassing this is?”
The corners of Rhys’s lips tugged down. “Even if I didn’t want to, I don’t have a choice. I’ve been subpoenaed as a witness.”
“Lie, then.”
Rhys scowled. “Perjure myself? Not a chance.”
“Then omit what I said. Finesse it. Don’t tell the world my secrets.”
Both men stared at her like she was a brat. Neither of them knew what it was like to be a woman with the world watching everything that she said and did so they could point out how wrongly she’d done it.
She was furious with Rhys—and needed him to take her side. “Please? I’m begging you.”
He held her gaze for a moment longer than necessary. “Believe it or not, this is me protecting you.”
Chapter Six
Present Day
The gilded gates that granted access to Jules Lowry’s gated community swept back. The guard at the gatehouse offered a friendly salute to their driver, who returned it. Perched in the front passenger seat, Rhys eyed the man, who had held the position for years. Familiar faces didn’t increase his trust.
They drove deeper into the heart of wealth for wealth’s sake, where people who were famous for being famous hobnobbed with the who’s who and the born-lucky. Rhys had been born so far from a silver spoon in his mouth that he might as well have been born in another universe.
They wound through the quiet streets of sprawling eight-figure mansions tucked against the dark of the ocean or the bright of the city lights. Rhys mapped every twist and turn to Jules’s house. He envisioned every property, every light and lamppost, every detail of her neighborhood. All was the wayit should be. Nothing changed here except the model year of the vehicles sitting in driveways like conspicuous displays of obnoxious wealth.
The driver paused on the street, Jules’s driveway within view. Rhys clenched his jaw. Several cars waited there. They weren’t lined up like trophies. They were here on business.
Rhys glanced at the back seat and had an unspoken conversation with Wes, who sat at her side, then asked, “Expecting anyone?”
She’d had her eyes closed and her head back. “Hm?” She rubbed a hand over her face and drew in a sharp breath. “The nerve of that asshole.”
