Thirty-one
Ellory
“ J im’s absolutely right,” I say. “No more going out alone for a while. And once the world knows I have Night to Remember and the line we’re launching, all hell will break loose.”
“You’re fucking brilliant,” Matteo says.
“Debbie didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“Jesus.”
“I hate to say this, but maybe I need a different trainer.”
His jaw ticks. “I was thinking the same thing. But I really like Debbie.”
“I’ll touch base with Jim, see what he thinks,” I concede. “Oh, and I’m on pins and needles waiting for Jim to call me and tell me someone’s been arrested.”
“He wouldn’t tell you anything?”
“Nope. And it worries me that I’m too close to whoever’s behind this.”
His gaze softens, but his words are firm. “He’s really good at communication. He’ll call when he can.”
I laugh, the sound light, but it cracks something open between us. The way he looks at me, like I’m more than I believe I am, sends a sharp heat spiraling through my chest and lower.
Matteo’s thumb brushes across my nipple, teasing, and I shiver, pressing closer to the heat of his body. The flex of his muscles against me, the glide of his tattoos beneath my fingers, undo me all over again.
My voice drops. “Tell me about the social worker’s meeting with Willow.”
“They met at my place this morning. Willow showed up an hour late. Trixie said she looked hungover—bad.”
“Thank God.”
Matteo lifts a brow. “Why thank Him?”
“Because that should seal her coffin. She doesn’t want to be Amelia’s mother.”
He exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. “I talked to my lawyer this morning. We’re going to float a million dollars for Willow to sign away her rights.”
My eyes widen. “Does Colleen think she’ll do it?”
“Yes.” He pulls his shirt over his head, muscles rippling as he tugs it down. “This way, I’ll make all the decisions for Amelia. Willow can be included if she wants, but she won’t have control.”
“That sounds…great,” I say softly.
He studies me for a long moment, hesitation flickering in his gaze. “Do you want kids one day?”
The question catches me off guard. We haven’t really spent much time together, and yet it feels intimate, weighted. I open my mouth, ready to answer—yes, absolutely—when my phone buzzes across the nightstand.
“It’s Jim.” I grab it quickly. “Hello?”
“They’ve arrested Heather,” Jim says without preamble. “For the theft of Night to Remember . We have her on camera arriving at the office that morning, leaving, and then returning.”
My stomach knots. “My dad is not going to take the news well.”
“He was there when she was arrested.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. A sharp ache slices through me.
Heather wasn’t just my father’s girlfriend.
She was the woman he paraded around as proof that he could still charm someone half his age.
He thought she cared about him. Now, she’s going to be branded a thief.
I can already see the humiliation in his eyes, the way this will unravel him.
“And there’s more,” Jim continues. “We arrested a man tied to the assault at Bar Go To. He met Willow at a club where she was complaining about you. His sister was bartending at Bar Go To. Together, they concocted a plan to drug you and rob you.”
The words sink in like lead. My throat tightens. “Did Willow know this?”
“It doesn’t sound like it,” Jim says.
Doesn’t sound like it . That’s not the same as no. My chest feels hollow, my mind spiraling with images of Willow laughing about me, telling strangers stories that made me a target.
Jim presses on. “You should have Night to Remember back in time for your photo session. The bad news is—they cut the diamond buttons off.”
My heart sinks, heavy. “Do they have them?”
“Yes, but they’ll need to be reattached.”
I nod slowly, already scrambling for solutions. “That’s not great news. But it’s better that we know. I may reach out to the designer, see if I can fly her out here.”
“Let us know,” Jim says.
“Thank you, Jim.”
When the line clicks dead, I stare at my phone, the weight of it all pressing in—Heather’s betrayal, Willow’s recklessness, the dress mutilated. For once, the money and influence I’ve always relied on don’t feel like armor. They feel like paper shields.
I lower the phone, my hands trembling. Matteo shifts closer, his steady presence grounding me when I feel anything but steady.