‘Get on your knees, and beg.’ She hangs onto the ‘g’. I didn’t know a single letter was connected to my libido but I was wrong.
She’s out of luck. Outside the bedroom, Santiago Cabrera doesn’t beg. ‘I’m not?—’
She pulls her bag higher and turns toward the suite.
‘Wait! Wait.’ I draw in a long-suffering breath. ‘I do this, and it’s a clean slate?’
She just looks at me unflinchingly.
‘Fine,’ I huff.
Concentrate on what matters. No more scrabbling up the grid. No more corn costumes. No more house insurance. No more arguing with my brother.
When I’m on my knees, I look up at her stony, flawless face. ‘Jules, please, please,pleaseforgive me. I’m really sorry, and look forward to our new?—’
I stop when she bends down so close I can feel her breath on my ear. Her voice is low, husky, and it sends gooseflesh zipping up my arms, but I don’t think they’re the good kind.
‘Revenge is a skill I’m very practiced in, and one I’ll direct at you if you ever threaten me again,’ she whispers, ice dripping from every word. ‘This is your warning.’
Chapter 12
JULES
The F1 Academy’s hospitality suite is all soft seating and pretty pastel colours. There’s a Charlotte Tilbury glam station at one end, an array of pastries, fruit, and mocktails in the middle, and its feminine loveliness goes some way to pulling me out of the foul mood Tiago put me in.
I’m attending F1 Academy’s ‘Women Driving the Future’ brunch event, and I’m joined by their drivers, familiar content creators, and WAGs. I grab some fizzy peach juice and force myself to mingle, the red clouding my vision fading with every amicable smile and compliment about my shoes.
I’m getting my lips touched up at the glam station when I glimpse a pink bow attached to blonde hair coming through the door.
‘Where’ve youbeen?’ I demand through unmoving lips to avoid getting a nude streak up my cheek.
‘Sorry, my editorial meeting ran late,’ Minnie says, panting. ‘Ooh, mini muffins! Where’s Nyla?’
‘I’m flying solo. It’s going to be a late night so I said she could have a lie-in.’
Minnie nods and makes a beeline for the snacks. When the makeup artist is done, I direct her and her collection of mini muffins away from the masses.
‘You’ll never guess what happened to me right before this event,’ I say in a hushed voice.
She chews excitedly. ‘What?’
I tell her, lingering on the part wherehe tried to threaten me.
Like I’d be interested in teaming up with him. The man’s a loose cannon, and a dickheaded one at that. You can’t have leverage with a reputation like his. If he claimed we’re together, I could just deny it, and who’s the more believable party here? The one who’s respectable, stable, and speaks her truth (ostensibly) on her various platforms, or the one who’s unpredictable, frantic, and hops from one woman to the next?
Minnie blows out a breath. ‘Oof. Dick move.’
‘Right?’
‘But…’I don’t like this “but”, ‘things aren’t exactly going to plan with Tom, are they? Would a little push from the inside hurt?’
I fold my arms tightly. ‘Are you seriously entertaining this?’
‘Is it so ridiculous? You’ve made hardly any ground since the start of the season a month ago. You wanted to launch Tom by Saudi Arabia. That’s now.’
‘I know.’
‘You said a relationship needed to last at least six months – that’s Spain, which is only six weeks away.’
