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“I don’t—”
“Why do you have that ring?” I interrupted before he could make some lame excuse. Anger oozed out of my every pore as the realization slowly poured onto me like hot water.
“What do you mean?”
“That ring.” I pointed at the ring around the chain, and he stopped fidgeting it as if it had been an unconscious gesture.
“Oh, this thing? Reagan gave it to me before I left yesterday.” Ryan St. James was a horrible liar, which was ironic because his father was a lying businessman.
“That’s Paige’s,” I pointed. “Ryan, why do you have Paige’s ring?”
And then it hit me.
The peonies. She hadn’t been staying at the penthouse for a while because Paige was staying with someone else while I was in Europe.
“Two months ago in California, you said?” I recalled. “She said she was on a trip to California with her friends two months ago, too.”
“Matthew, let me explain.” His answer was explanation enough. Paige and Ryan had been sleeping together behind my back. The anger that surged through me was scary. I was afraid of what I might do to Ryan’s pretty face.
“You asshole!” I stood up from the couch and rounded the coffee table to grab his collar with both my hands. He didn’t even flinch. “You slept with my fucking girlfriend?”
“Matthew, c’mon man.” He raised his palms in the air to tell me that he was surrendering and not punching back if I decided to give him the world’s biggest shiner.
“You’re my best friend, Ryan. Fuck! I was going to marry her!” I hissed, pushing him away. And he cowered, fixing his shirt before stepping back from me. “How long?”
“Matt—”
“How. Fucking. Long?”
“Three months after you left.”
“How?”
“We were drunk at a mutual friend’s party. One thing led to another, and we ended up sleeping together. And we couldn’t stop. It went on for a while.” There was remorse on his face, but it was too late to feel guilty now because they already did the deed. And they kept going knowing damn well it was going to hurt me.
“Jesus Christ. Yesterday, when you said you were in California—”
“I was in town. With her.” At least he was telling the truth and not digging his own grave.
“Fuck you, St. James. Fuck you!” I spat. “I can’t believe I trusted you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the reason behind us losing millions of dollars.”
“I am.” His admission sent a chill down my spine, making my skin crawl. “I embezzled it.”
“What?”
“We went on a trip to Brazil two months ago. I thought I would be able to pay it back without you noticing anything.”
God, I wanted to punch his face right now. But I knew that a lawsuit was on the horizon and this wasn’t the wisest decision. So I shook my head and decided right there that Ryan St. James wasn’t my friend anymore. He and Paige were dead to me.
“You’re a fucking monster. You’re a thief. I won’t let you get away with this, jackass. You’ll hear from my lawyers, and I’ll make sure you rot in jail.”
I kicked him out of my penthouse like I was kicking him out of my life for good because I was.
Later that night, I confronted Paige. And she didn’t even feel sorry about the whole thing. She told me that she was slowly losing interest, and she should’ve broken up with me before I left for Europe, but he didn’t have the heart to tell me. And sleeping with my best friend was the thing that made it clear to her that she was done.
I couldn’t hate her, really. Because I loved her.
So, I made sure she stayed out of the narrative when the news broke about Ryan St. James’ embezzlement scheme. My lawyers and I were determined to put him in prison. And we did because he pled guilty, and his admission was enough for him to be sent to prison without any trial.
