Page 90 of Wicked Fortune

I shudder, pushing that from my mind. Thinking only of Matthew. “I trusted you,” I snap. “I trusted you, and you betrayed me.”

My tears are flowing freely now, and I hug myself. I see the pain all over his face, but I don’t care. Hell, I celebrate it. Let him be tortured, too.

“Aria, I didn’t mean to ….” He trails off, his voice thin. Broken. As if I’ve shattered something in him.

Good.

He takes a step forward, but I hold up my hand, allowing him only that one. “I told you about my father,” he begins, speaking softly. “I couldn’t live like that. Small-time thefts and con jobs. I knew what I wanted. And the only useful thing my father ever did for me was give me a solid skillset.”

“Stealing,” I say, scoffing.

He shrugs. “I’m not that man anymore. But the man I was twenty years ago had dreams. You know that. And I made those dreams into reality.”

“That reality—the films, the studio, the backlots, the record labels—it was all built on the broken back of my family’s legacy. So fuck you, Matthew,” I snap. “Fuck. You.”

I snatch up my purse and hurry toward the door, knocking his outstretched arm out of my way. “I’ll come by tomorrow for my stuff. Don’t be here,” I say, then burst out the door and run up the steps to where my car’s parked on the narrow road.

I throw the door open, slide inside, then slam it shut and lock it, just in case he’s coming after me. But he doesn’t. After a moment, he even turns off the porch light.

For some reason, that’s what does me in, and I clench my fists around the steering wheel and sob for what seems like hours. He doesn’t check on me, and I tell myself I’m glad. Nice to know that even after breaking up with the man who may have been the love of my life, I still rank above average at lying to myself.

“Fuck it,” I say. “And fuck you, Matthew.”

Then I start the car and head down the hill toward the Valley. It’s only when I reach Studio City that the question occurs to me: If he sold the diadem for seed money for his entertainment dynasty, then how can that same diadem be sitting in a safe in his living room?

I groan, realizing the answer.

He stole it back.

The cemetery is quiet, the gravestones lit only by the glow of a full moon that hangs eerily over Los Angeles.

I’d intended to drive to my old house to crash for the night, since I know Bree hasn’t found a new renter. Then tomorrow I’d head back to the treehouse for my stuff once I’m sure he’s at Hardline.

After that … well, maybe I can be Bree’s tenant again.

But I never made it to the house. Instead, my car seemed to magically steer itself toward the cemetery.

Now I kneel on the grave of my friend, my eyes leaky with tears as I trace my fingertip over the words carved deep into the marble stone.

Jennifer Garland.

Beloved Daughter.

Loving Friend.

The air is damp, carrying the faint scent of earth and grass, and a chill seeps into my skin despite my hoodie.

“I miss you,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I haven’t been here in a while. Things have been crazy, you know?” I look up to the heavens, wondering if she does know, and certain that somehow she does. That she’s still with me. Still Jenny, but at the same time something more.

“I know it doesn’t change anything. We always knew—Bree and me, I mean. We knew you didn’t kill yourself. But it’s official now. One of the pricks that Trent hired cut a deal, and he told the cops all about how Trent told him to make it look like suicide.”

I sigh. I’d been so happy when Joel had told me and Matthew that truth. But it was a hollow victory, because Jenny’s still dead.

“Your note helped,” I tell her. “Sorry I didn’t open it right away. I was—well, I was crushing on my boss. On Matthew. And not just crushing. I think—I know—I was in love. But he fucked it all up.

“That’s why I’m here tonight,” I admit. “Because I’m so angry with him, but at the same time, I want him back. And I don’t have anyone to talk to about it, and I miss you so much, and⁠—”

I break off because the tears are coming with a vengeance now. Tears for Jenny. For all the girls. For me and Matthew, and everything we lost. Everything he destroyed by stealing that damn diadem.