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THREE
MAKAYLA
Lunch went surprisingly well, considering the tension crackling between us, but my parents seemed oblivious. Victor talked business with my father, while my mother drilled me with questions about my goals for the future. She wasn’t thrilled with the idea of me living with Victor, and I decided I’d wait a couple of days to let them know of my change in plans.
Then I hugged them goodbye and insisted they call when they made it home. They only lived an hour and a half away, but I still worried about them on the road.
After lunch, Victor drives us back to our penthouse—hispenthouse—at the Martin Portside, which is one of the many hotels owned by his family. Even with all the amenities, I wasn’t thrilled by the idea of living in a hotel. He promised we could look for another place after graduation, but that’s no longer an option. After he walked out on me, I packed up my stuff and moved to another hotel ten minutes down the road.
I’m almost certain he knows. There’s no way a man like Victor would allow me out of his sight without keeping tabs on me. Not because he cares. This is all about control. Which brings me back to the reason he showed up at graduation.To lure me back to his penthouse so he could punish me?
Victor pulls his Mercedes into the valet entrance. I collect my things from the back seat as he climbs out and comes around to my side.
Passing the valet his keys, he takes my hand and leads me into the lobby, bypassing the front desk and heading over to a bank of elevators. My heart slams in my chest as the thumping of my pulse fills my ears. Dread sits like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach. What will he do when he sees my stuff is gone?
The elevator pings and the doors slide open. Victor gestures for me to go first, then steps inside and pushes the PH button.
The ride is silent as Victor and I stare at each other from opposite sides. His demeanor is now cool as he leans against the wall with his hands braced on the railing.
He’s very attractive, tall, and fit. His chiseled jaw is lined with day-old scruff, and his blue eyes stand out against his black hair.
My mom used to say, “It’s not what’s on the outside. It’s what’s on the inside that counts.” Well, whatever is inside Victor is dark and unnerving.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
I take a deep breath and blow it out. “Honestly, I kind of hate you.” I probably shouldn’t provoke him.
He nods once, then lifts his gaze to the rising numbers above the door. “I gave you what you asked for.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes as the elevator slows to a stop, and the doors glide open. Victor gestures for me to go first, so I step out into the foyer, then nervously follow him through the wood-grained double doors and down the short hall that opens up to a living, dining, and kitchen area. He removes his jacket and drapes it over an accent chair before making his way to the bar. I drop my stuff onto the same chair and head over to the wall of windows overlooking parts of the city and the bay that stretches on for miles.
I cross my arms over my chest to hide my trembling hands. Maybe he won’t notice, since he’s not here much.
Wishful thinking. Victor notices everything.
The pop of a cork makes me flinch, and I look over my shoulder to Victor standing at the bar, pouring two glasses of champagne.
He motions me over to the living area and passes me a glass as we take a seat on opposite ends of the sofa. Victor sits facing me, pulling his knee up on the cushion between us and draping his arm across the back.
“A toast.” He raises his glass. “To new beginnings.”
He brings the champagne glass to his lips, eyeing me over the rim as he takes a mouthful. I frown. “Drink your champagne, Makayla.”
I narrow my eyes and take a tentative sip. “I know you’ve been cheating on me.”
“You don’t know anything,” he says dismissively before tossing back the rest of his drink.
Taking the flute from my hand, unconcerned with whether I’ve finished or not, he sets both glasses on the coffee table.
Wrapping my arms around my middle, I ask, “Did you ever love me?”
I don’t know why I bother to ask. It won’t change anything, but for some reason I need to hear it.
Victor’s eyes move over my face. The spark of desire they once held for me is long gone. It’s not like I haven’t been hurt by words before, but still…. I mentally brace myself for the blow. “No,” he says simply.
It’s like a punch to the solar plexus.
Inhaling sharply, I nod and avert my gaze. “I didn’t think so.”
