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“This makes no sense,” I finally say after shutting the file. “She didn’t . . . I mean, this must be some mistake.”

“My man never makes mistakes, Rome.” He’s right. I know the PI in question, and the man could dig up anything you ask him to, and it doesn’t matter if you were an everyday Joe or an infamous world leader. If it’s there, he’d find it.

“Nothing makes sense when it comes to women. This is why I keep them to one night only and nothing more. There are too many strings when it comes to relationships, and I hate being tied up.”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation. I’ll take this to her, and I’ll speak to her. She’ll be able to tell me.”

“And if she doesn’t? What if she’s hiding from said husband, and you’re here playing hero without the full story?” Dom leans forward, his elbows on his knees as he regards me. For the first time in a long while, my best friend is serious. There’s not a playful crease in his expression, which makes the anxiety twisting in my gut even worse.

Shaking my head, I sit back. “I know her, Dom. She wouldn’t do this. That woman has been through some bad shit, but she wouldn’t lie to me. I told her about Marisol, I admitted my sordid past, and she wouldn’t let me do that and not give me her history.”

“Are you sure about that?” Dom challenges, his dark brow arching high in question. Even as he asks it, I can’t respond, because to be honest, I don’t know. Yes, Elisabet told me about her arranged marriage. Yes, she told me about her father and what she’d experienced, but I don’t know if I can say she’s been completely honest with me.

And the moment that thought comes to mind, I feel sick.

“I have to go into the office,” Dom says with a sigh. “If you need me, give me a call.” He stands, looking at me, and all I can do is nod. “I’m sorry, and I hope this is some sort of mix-up.” He’s sincere. I know he is, but deep down, my gut feeling is that this information he’s given me is right.

“Thanks, man,” I tell him. “I’ll give you a shout later, after I’ve spoken to her.”

He nods, his expression remains neutral, and I’m sure he’s worried about me. If I lose my shit, I do it in style, and I can’t do that to Elisabet. No matter how much she’s lied to me. If she has lied.

Nothing is certain anymore. Not my emotions, and not the feeling that I found someone I’d like to possibly spend more time with.

“See you later.” Once I’m alone, I can’t shake the foreboding feeling that’s taken hold of me. As much as I’d like to put this down to human error, or something, I can’t. I pick up my phone and scroll to Elisabet’s number.

I know she’s at work, getting the shop ready, but right now, I don’t care. I hit dial and wait. It takes a few rings before she answers.

“Hi, I can’t believe how beautiful this color is,” she gushes immediately without waiting for me to respond. “I love it. I think you’ll like it. They’re working on the front of the shop first, and I have two guys outside. I decided white is the way to go with the exterior. What do you think?”

Silence.

“Rome?”

“I need to talk to you.” Those are the only words I manage to utter, because if I say anything more, it may not be well received. Even though I’m angry, I’m attempting to rein in the way my body is tempted to lose all control with her.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice is small, fear lacing the two words she mutters. Fisting my hands, I look at the file again, the black front taunting me with what’s inside. The memory of seeing a marriage certificate is burned into my retinas, and I know I can never expunge it from my mind.

“Come to my office, right now. I don’t care what the fuck you’re doing, you will be here in fifteen minutes.” I hang up before she can respond. Before she can ask me why or what’s wrong, I end the call and sit in the silence of my office.

When my office door opens, and Elisabet walks in, I’m finishing up an email and hitting send before I turn my attention to her. I can tell by the expression on her pretty face that she’s worried. Her brows are furrowed, and the small smile she’s gifting me is unsure.

“Hi,” she whispers, before closing the door behind her.

“I had a visit this morning from my best friend, Dominic. He’s someone I’ve known my whole life.” Leaning back in my chair, I gesture for her to sit. I don’t break my stare as she settles herself. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a tank top, I can’t help noticing how even when she’s dressed down, she looks exquisite. Her long, dark hair is pinned on top of her head in a messy bun with feathery tendrils framing her face.

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