That wasn’t casual, was it? Who was he? How did she meet him? Was she seeing him before we—no. She wouldn’t. Lila wasn’t cheap like that; she’d never cheat.
So, who was he?
I dragged my hands through my hair and tugged on it until it hurt, white hot pain slicing through my scalp. It felt good. Helped me focus.
And my fucking sister was adding fuel to the fire, getting excited over some cunt wanting to take Lila out.
So much for blood being thicker than water.
My stomach churned as I collapsed on the sofa, staring absently ahead. It was happening—it was truly fucking happening—every worst nightmare I’d ever had looked exactly like this.
Was she going to marry this guy? Have a family with him? Withmyfucking kid? Maybe even have more with him?
Fuck!
I sat forward and dropped my head between my knees, trying to calm myself down.
Deep breaths. It’s just a date. It doesn’t mean she’s going to fuck him—Lila is classy andpregnant.She wouldn’t do that.
My shoulders relaxed a little. Yeah, I was forgetting this wasLilawe were talking about. Lila who’d only ever slept with me—goddammit. My teeth clenched and my eyes closed as I forced the thought of her with another man out of my mind.
Lila wouldn’t. Not even for revenge, she just wasn’t like that.
Feeling a little better about the fucked situation, I grabbed her laptop to see if she was logged into her email. I had zero shame as I tapped in her password and the screen flashed up—a screensaver that was once of her and me was now of a Greek sunset.
She even outshone the sun.
I shook my head and clicked her emails, desperate to find the name of this fucking guy. I had to check him out. My gaze swept over the emails but there was nothing—there were only two emails in her inbox. She wasn’t the sort to let it get cluttered, so… that meant he’d messaged her another way.
Think!
My head swam with tiredness, and I kept glancing at the stairs to make sure she wasn’t coming down them—even though I’d hear her, my anxiety at being found snooping was high.
How did I get to this fucking point?
I typed Instagram into the search bar, but it asked for a login.
Great. I tried her password for the laptop, but it didn’t work. It warned me I only had two attempts left, so I couldn’t try again.
I didn’t have a fucking clue what it was. Maybe ‘ihatevictor.’ Fuck it, I’d try that.
Incorrect password. There’s hope for me yet.
I shut the lid and pushed it away, feeling utterly useless. I had to find out who she was seeing.
Vanessa.
I grabbed my phone from my pocket and texted her, as much as I really didn’t want to.
Victor: I know you hate me, but she can’t date this guy. She’s pregnant with my baby, sis. Please. Who is he?
The blue dots appeared and stopped so many times I felt like my heart was auditioning for the fucking circus. Then…
Vanessa: You did this. Remember that. She can do whatever she wants.
Thisfuckingwoman. I wanted to murder her, sister or not.Fuck!
I texted Enzo next.
