Page 69 of LA Reign

I laugh at her, and his reaction. My big, tough Navy SEAL left speechless by my pal. Having her here makes being confined to the house so much easier to bear.

“What time is your flight on Monday?” I ask.

“Eight am. I’ll be home in time for my shift on Monday night. Go me.”

“I’ll miss you so much.”

“I’ll miss you too, honey. But now that I know my bestie has her own freaking jet, you can send it for me next time I have some time off work,” she says as she pours us each a fresh glass of wine.

“Sounds like a great plan.”

“Hey, also, I meant to tell you. I saw your mom last week.”

I swallow hard, caught off guard by her casual comment. I haven’t spoken to my parents since the morning I confronted my father and he admitted that Alejandro paid him nine million dollars to marry me. He sold his only child, and I told him that I never wanted to see him again. I have no idea if my mother has even found out about my visit that morning. She hasn’t contacted me either way. I’m done with the two of them, and I know that’s for the best. But still, they’re my parents, and turning my back on them is a hard thing to do.

“How was she?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral.

“She didn’t look well, to be honest Alana. She even asked me how you were. When was the last time you actually spoke to her?”

“It was a while ago. We kind of had a falling out. Well, me and my dad did.”

“And your mom took his side, like always?” Kelsey asks with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not even sure she knows about it, and I have no idea what version of events my father gave her. Anyway. I’m done with them, Kels.”

She nods at me. “I don’t blame you. You deserve to be happy, Alana, and I don’t think you ever really were in New York. Not like you are here. I think your father had a lot to do with that.”

“What do you mean?” I ask her. I know she never really liked him, but she’s never openly voiced her views. Not like this. Maybe she feels like she can now that I’ve escaped that life.

“He always had you working for him, covering his ass, or playing some angle so he could score votes. Remember when you had to cancel on our trip to Cabo at the last minute because he had some emergency he needed your help with? Or the time we were supposed to go upstate for Heather Jensen’s bachelorette party, and he asked you to look after your mother because she was sick and he was going out of town? They’re just two off the top of my head. There were so many more times just like that, Alana. He never let you live your own life. It was like you only existed to serve his needs.”

Wow. She’s not pulling any punches now. Maybe it’s the wine. Or maybe it’s just that she knows I’m strong enough to hear it now.

She’s right. It did happen a lot. Everything I planned, everything I wanted to do, was always dependent on his schedule.

“I’m sorry, I must have been a crappy friend, Kels,” I say as I feel tears pricking my eyes.

“No, you weren’t,” she says firmly, as she places her hand on my arm and gives me a reassuring squeeze. “That’s not what I meant at all. I just wanted you to know that I think you’re better off without him. As for being a crappy friend? No way! You were always there for me when I really needed you and I know you always will be.”

“Always,” I say as I hold up my wine glass. “I love you, Kels.”

“Love you too, honey,” she says, and smiles as taps her glass against mine.

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

ALEJANDRO

Istand at the floor to ceiling windows of my office at my hotel, looking out over LA. Somewhere out there in that sprawling city is the man responsible for trying to kill my father. It has been two days since some cabrón pulled up at a stop sign and put two bullets in his chest. He is lucky to be alive. But two days later, I’m still no closer to finding the shooter or who was behind it.

“Alejandro,” I hear a deep voice behind me. It sounds so much like my father’s that I shudder.

“Uncle Phillipe,” I say as I turn around and see him walking through my open office door. Only two years younger than my father, he looks much like him. They have the same square jaw and dark hair peppered with silver. Phillipe is slightly taller and leaner though, and his temper not so volatile as his two brothers’.

“How are you?” he asks, his face full of concern. “Have you slept at all these past few days?”

I shake my head. “How can I sleep when that fucker is still out there, Uncle?”