“How could younotknow?”
Her voice is quiet when she replies, “Because I met him before your accident?—”
“It wasn’t an accident,” I snap. “It was an attempted assassination.”
Immediately, her demeanor changes. “Stop being melodramatic.”
“He deliberately crossed my line. It was a dirty play from a dirty player,” I spit. “He’s a piece of shit. In case you forgot, I had to retire Feather after she fell on me, she was so fucking traumatized.”
She holds my glare, and her shoulders drop. She hasn’t forgotten. She used to visit Feather at Foxleigh all the time, but come to think of it, I haven’t seen her there in a while, and maybe her guilt is why. It sets me off again.
“So?” I demand. “You met him before, and then what? That was two years ago? Three? Hendricks saw you with himthisyear.”
She turns her silent death glare on to Hendricks before returning to her attempt to murder me with her mind.
“Well . . .”
“Fuck you, Miles.”
I’m actually incredulous. Even when I saw her walking through the door, there was a big part of me that didn’t believe it could be true. “Clementine, are you seeing Santiago Torres?”
“You’re a sanctimonious prick?—”
“What?”
“Will both of you shut the fuck up?” Lando’s roar echoes around the hall so violently I’m surprised the windows don’t rattle. He turns back to Clementine. “If Miles’s accident was two years ago, then what’s happened since?”
“Nothing,” she says. “I ended everything with him?—”
“So, you called it off, and now you’re fucking him again?” I counter.
Bile churns in my belly. The idea of Clementine having sex is nauseating enough, but doing it with that disgusting tattooed wannabe Mafia prick is sending me over the edge.
“I haven’t been fucking him at all, Miles. I’m not you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We don’t all need to fake a marriage to find a relationship. We all know you’re going to go back to fucking anyone who moves when things end with Ruby because you’re incapable of commitment.”
Ruby visibly shrinks, like she’s been slapped. My jaw grinds. But what are siblings for except to twist the knife exactly where it hurts the most?
I huff out a dry, humorless laugh. “A relationship with Torres?—”
“Miles, enough,” Lando snaps again. “If you’re going to keep interrupting, then go and wait outside.”
“I’m staying right here, thank you very much.”
“Then shutup,” he pleads, and looks at Clementine, urging her to continue. “What happened at the Valentine match?”
“He wanted to see me,” she replies, like it’s so simple when it’s anything but.
My head throbs, and I make a poor attempt at rubbing the ache away. He’s coerced her, that’s what’s happened. She’s a victim. She’s searching for a father figure because the four of us didn’t do a good enough job of being the man in her life.
Or he’s after her money.
“Clementine, do you need a restraining order? Arthur can arrange for one today.”
From the way her lip curls, it was the wrong thing to say. “Don’t you dare.”
