“Anyway, let’s not talk about that tonight,” I insisted, refusing to let him dampen the evening. “Where are we going?”
Graham grinned. “I found a local Greek restaurant. I hope that’s alright?”
I smiled, ignoring the way my stomach dropped. I knew the one. Victor and I had gone there for our anniversary.
“Emilios?”
Graham looked pleased. “Yes, do you know it?”
Intimately. We’d gotten drunk on ouzo and ended up making love in the car before driving home and continuing on the kitchen counter.
Then the bedroom.
Focus, Lila.
“Ah. That look tells me you do. Shall we go somewhere else?”
I frowned and shook my head.
“No, tonight I’m creating new memories.”
47
VICTOR
She’d been gone for four hours and twenty-six minutes. I’d paced a hole into the fucking floor and tracked her location from her laptop like a psycho.
Who the fuck was this guy? I’d never seen him before, but he seemed familiar.
I couldn’t work it out.
Emilio’s. He’d taken her toourrestaurant. I couldn’t believe it—he was British, for a start, and he’d flown here. Assuming he didn’t know the area, what were the chances he’d pick that restaurant?
It beggared belief.
That fucking suave cunt, pretending he was a gentleman while checking out her ass when she walked past him.
Don’t fall for it, baby.
A part of me died on the sidewalk, watching her leave me. I’d never felt anything like it, and now I felt like I was grieving.
Like she was dead, not in a Greek restaurant.
Greek restaurant…
It hit me, where I’d seen him before.
Her Instagram.
My stomach lurched as I grabbed my phone, shakily pulling up her profile.
There he was.
The suave cunt.
I scrolled down, scanning the comments until I saw him.
Graham007.
