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“Only his ‘Royal High-Ass,’” Punk chuckles. “I’m going to steal that phrase.”
My cell buzzes. Chuckling, I accept the call, putting it on speaker. “Long time, no talk, Piero.”
“Did your brat hang up on me?” he snaps. A man of Piero’s pedigree isn’t accustomed to strong-willed women. I imagine he’s snorting and frothing at the mouth like a raging bull.
“And I’ll do it again if you cop an attitude.”
“She doesn’t let anyone speak negatively to me outside of herself.”
“Exactly,” Simone says testily.
Piero pauses a moment, groaning. “You can tell she’s Jo’s sister.”
“Well, aren’t you observant? Yes, bitchiness runs in my family’s genetics.”
Piero howls with deep laughter. “These MC women are too much.”
His laughter softly fades as he collects himself. “Simone’s right. I should be pleased with the positive update instead of going off the rails. It wasn’t the news I wanted to hear, but it’s promising. Move forward with the investigation. I’ll pass along the maiden surnames’ info to my tech team. It should help in other recovery operations. Keep me updated, but don’t be a dick by interrupting my business meetings again.”
“No problem,” I chuckle.
“And Chase…”
“Yeah?”
“Claiming a woman like Simone means nothing, unless you put a ring on it. I suggest you propose soon.”
Simone’s eyes widen when I wink at her and say, “Already planning on it.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
CYNTHIA
Isip my pinot noir, staring at the front door of Trent’s posh condo. Hours have passed, with no phone call or text. Still, I sit in Trent’s dark Hollywood glam living room, surrounded by all his ornamental belongings. All I have the strength to do is watch for his return, willing him to come home.
The room is deathly silent, no television or radio to fill the void. Only my heartbeat keeps me company, filling my ears with my pulse and steadily growing faster the longer I wait.
It’s not like I’m surprised by Trent’s sudden absence. He’s been pulling away from me for many months, going back to when Simone discovered me and Trent that fateful night—the night I orchestrated for Simone to catch us in the act, ultimately ending their relationship and allowing me to have Trent all to myself.
The late-night calls and text messages Trent sent Simone aren’t going unnoticed. I’m well-aware of his ability to sneak behind my back. After all, he demonstrated the same behavior while in a relationship with Simone. I’ve seen the call logs, the pleading messages my boyfriend sent to his ex, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to stop his behavior.
As much as I want to confront Trent for his lack of faithfulness, I fear his response wouldn’t be in my favor. It’s hard enough living up to Trent’s unrealistic expectations of an ideal partner, but I still compete with a woman who Trent has on a pedestal. No matter how hard I try to knock over Simone’s pedestal, it’s no use. I’m not Simone and never will be.
It’s why I began stealing from clients at the firm, to give Trent a reason to stay with me. When Trent expressed his desire to open his own firm, I thought this was the way to win him over. If he saw what lengths I’d go to make his dream a reality, he’d leave Simone for me.
However, I couldn’t guarantee my thieving in the name of love would be enough of a motivator to convince Trent to choose me over Simone. Hence, why I bombarded Simone’s caseload, sending her all over the country to deal with “important” clients. Out of sight, out of mind, I’d hoped. And with Simone not breathing down my neck, double-checking all the accounts, it made funneling money into my offshore account easier.
Sure, Trent was rolling in the sheets with me, but he wasn’t cutting Simone loose, ignoring me in favor of Simone when she’d return home from business trips. His favoritism was obvious—Simone was who he preferred to share his life with, and I was who he preferred swiping information with.
Unwilling to remain Trent’s sidepiece, I upped my game. I broke company protocol, giving Trent anything he wanted, usually personal data on clients I had direct access to. He used that info to give him an edge over our other financial investment colleagues, allowing him to advance rapidly within the firm. Everything he requested, I handed over without question, all in the hopes he’d pick me.
Still, I wasn’t the one he wanted to come home to.
On the week of Trent’s thirty-fifth birthday, I was thrilled to spend his special day with him. Simone was away on a business trip I couldn’t attend because of “other commitments,” meaning Trent was all mine.
Things went sideways when I saw an expense report Simone submitted for approval. She’d booked a flight to return home earlier than anticipated.
Once again, Simone would ruin everything, spoiling the one weekend I planned to have Trent all to myself. And I was fed up with taking scraps of time Trent would throw at me when Simone wasn’t present.
