AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I was done.
He could marry Brittany for all I cared.
I’d thrown everything I had at his apartment in a bag, ignoring his pleas and protests as I stormed out. Brittany looked smug, sitting on his bed, her naked body proudly on display like she was some prize. She had wanted him, once upon a time, but our families had long decided it would be me he would marry.
He said he’d chosen me. Not her.
Or so he’d led me to believe.
Drew hadn’t chosen me at all. He’d chosen my family’s name and power. Nothing more.
I was stupid and foolishly naïve.
There was no way in hell I was going home to face my father. He’d send me right back to Drew. The problem was that every hotel in the area was booked.
So much for a place to sort things out.
My plan had been to get my shit together, find a hotel, and regroup. I’d make sure to get every penny back that I gave him for that company. I’d be damned if I let him profit off my hard-earned money.
Not after this.
Now I was sobbing like a baby in my car with only the whiskey to keep me company. The holiday weekend had all the hotels in the area booked. New Year’s Eve in Seattle was no joke.
For some, it was practically an Olympic sport.
I’d pulled into the small alley parking lot behind Clover, an up-and-coming Irish club, to sort out my maddening thoughts. It wasn’t the best place for me to be, considering who owned it, but I had little choice, and I doubted anyone would be sober enough to recognize me.
When I’d gone to leave and find a hotel out of town, my car refused to start, stuttering like a forty-year-old virgin.
Just my luck.
Calling my father was out of the question. My engagement to Drew was pivotal to the deal he had brokered with Drew’s father when I was sixteen. His family, like mine, was full of prominent figureheads in Seattle politics, and our marriage meant more reach for my father.
From the thirty missed calls and forty unread text messages I’d received in the past half an hour from my stepmother, Drew had already informed her of what happened, no doubt spinning everything so that it appeared I was the villain.
Not that Sarah, my stepmother, needed much of an excuse to villainize me. He’d probably complained that I wasn’t giving him what he needed because I refused to leave my career to have his babies and become his trophy wife. Something he hadn’t wanted me to be in the first place. It had been his idea to keep my career.
I’d given him everything, and all I got in return was shit.
“Forget this,” I mumbled drunkenly as I ripped the keys from the ignition. I wiped away the excess tears with the sleeve of my dress, and after a quick glance in the rearview mirror, I grabbed my purse from the passenger seat and climbed out of my useless car.
Might as well find more alcohol and get even more shit-faced than I already was. It would take at least another bottle of Jameson before I could think about abandoning everything and crawling back home to my father.
Maybe two bottles…or three…
It was beyond luck that I stalled behind a club. If that wasn’t a sign, I didn’t know what was.
Slamming the door shut, I stumbled behind the alley toward the main road. My heels wobbled slightly on the uneven cobblestone.
Or it could have been because I was tipsy.
Who knew?
The lights in the alley were dimmed and flickering, casting an ominous shadow around me. Fuck, maybe I should have walked around the other way.
A door in the back of the alley swung open violently, raised voices reaching my ears, and I barely managed to stifle a scream before ducking into a small alcove a few feet down. This wasn’t the best neighborhood; I knew that. Not that crime was particularly high in the Irish Village, but it wasn’t a secret that it was run by the Irish Mafia, who kept things on a tight leash.
“Please…” a nasally man pleaded, his voice echoing against the brick walls of the small alleyway. “I was just hired to do a job. I swear. I didn’t know she was with you. The hit said she was a Dashkov. You have to believe me.”
