Chapter 29 London
London
Ipace the confines of my brand-new apartment, stewing in a plethora of emotions and thoughts I'm not sure what to do with. I got home from work late, never turning the lights on for long enough to see anything, plopping down into the bed Camille left behind.
It wasn't until I woke up this morning, the light of day spilling in that, I saw someone had broken into my apartment and left me presents.
There was no note, not a single word giving away the culprit, but I know exactly who it was—my stalker, the man I love to hate…Archer Sin.
I huff, mumbling under my breath and considering my options.
I could pile everything up and leave it on his doorstep, bang on his door, and throw it all inside, or I could keep them, not acknowledging his generosity at all.
Each one has its pros and cons, and not even one of them makes me any less angry that he continues to violate my privacy.
He knew I wanted that dress, the one I saw when I went shopping the first main day I was here.
He knew I told Grace yesterday that I didn't have anything to wear.
I open the garment bag, tracing my fingers along the delicate fabric, sighing at how fucking beautiful the dress is up close and personal. Popping the top of each jewelry box, I gasp at how shiny and expensive they look.
I drag out my phone, doing a quick internet search, my mouth dropping at the price tags.
Did Archer spend over six hundred thousand dollars on someone he can't stand? Someone he claims he wants nothing to do with. Someone he threw out of his apartment because he couldn't be bothered to hear their side of the story.
Pushing a button, I dial Grace, because I can't be responsible for making this decision on my own.
It rings twice before she answers, her voice the sound of angels. "Hey, babe. What's up?"
"I need you to come over, right now. It's an emergency." Okay, maybe I'm being dramatic, but it feels like an emergency of some sort. "I'm not, like, dying or anything."
Grace laughs. "I was just grabbing coffee. I'm next in line, want something?"
"This calls for something stronger than coffee."
"Got it. Getting out of line now. I'll pick up a bottle of wine on the way over. Give me five."
We hang up and I stare at the boxes until a soft knock hits my front door. I peer through the peephole to find Grace on the other end, two bottles of wine in her grasp.
I open the door and all but drag her inside. "I need your help."
"I have never felt more important in my entire life," she says. "Good thing I got screw tops." Grace sets one of the bottles on the counter, carrying the other over and into my kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets to find two glasses.
I'm no help. Even if I wasn't stewing in my thoughts, I haven't really gone through the apartment that well to know where things are located.
Camille gave me the place fully furnished, telling me it was easier on her that way, and I wasn't exactly protesting considering I came to New York with just the clothes on my back.
Grace hands me a glass of red and takes a long swig of hers. "Okay, so what kind of help do you need? Makeup? Boys? Hide a dead body?"
"You'd help me hide a body?"
She shrugs. "Hey, what are friends for?" Her gaze catches on the bags sitting in my dining room.
"Um, did you go shopping without me?" She marches right over, her hand on her hip.
"Is that Van Cleef?" She flips the top on one of the jewelry boxes, stifling a gasp.
"Oh. My. God." Grace slowly spins on her heel.
"You robbed the fucking Van Cleef store? "
I chug some of my wine, ignoring the way it warms my chest and empty stomach. "I did not rob the Van Cleef store." I lick my lips and try to make sense of the situation. "I woke up and this was here."
Grace stares at me, blinking a few times. "What?"
"I mean, it was either here when I got in last night, or someone came when I was sleeping."
"Someone? Like whom? Santa Claus?" Grace helps herself to the rest of the things, shaking her head as she explores all the stuff Archer bought me.
"You know who it was, we both do." I settle onto a stool in the kitchen, near the bottle of wine, refilling my glass when I empty it a second later.
Grace comes over, topping hers off, too, and sits down. "You think he broke in here?"
"I mean, I didn't give him a key. How else would you explain how it got in here? I sleepwalked to Van Cleef and went shopping? I don't have that kind of money."
"You said you had his black card, right? It's not impossible."
That's when it dawns on me, I do still have Archer's American Express.
I had forgotten all about it, buried in the bottom of one of the handbags he had gotten me.
I should probably pay it more consideration since it's capable of purchasing six hundred thousand dollars’ worth of stuff.
Unless he paid cash, then that's an entirely different story altogether.
"I didn't use his card. This was him, not me." I drink more of the wine, not caring about the taste and focusing on how it makes my body tingle and loosen up at the same time.
"It's kind of hot," Grace admits.
"What?"
"Don't get me wrong, breaking and entering is definitely a criminal activity. But it's weirdly romantic. Isn't that the dress you've been wanting from Charlotte's, too? He pays attention, it's sweet."
I glare at her. "Grace. Don't encourage him, he's probably listening right now." I crane my head all around the apartment, feeling entirely too vulnerable.
Grace hops off her chair, sets her wineglass down, and goes over to the window.
"What are you doing?" I ask her.
"Trust the process." She lowers each of the blinds, the place getting darker and darker until she shuts off the lights, leaving us in almost pitch black.
"What the hell," I blurt out, bracing myself on the counter like the world might topple over now that I can't see.
Grace pulls out her camera and hits record, panning the kitchen, dining room, and living room.
She walks back over, how she can find her way I'll never know, and hits play next to me.
"We're looking for a red dot. It's hard to find them with the naked eye but if there was a camera in here, this video would pick it up. "
We watch it three times, and nothing indicates that there are any hidden cameras in here.
"Let me check your other rooms. Is that cool?" Grace waits for me to give her my approval before continuing.
"Yeah, of course."
She leaves me there in the quiet darkness, returning a couple of minutes later to show me the screen. "I think you're good, babe." Grace flips the kitchen light on and I squint at the bright assault, my eyes taking a second to adjust.
"Why do you even know how to check for cameras?" I ask Grace and swallow down the rest of the wine in my glass.
"Politics, babe." She climbs onto the stool. "It's hard to know who to trust."
"Isn't it a conflict of interest? You dating Leo, a known criminal."
"Meh. It is what it is."
"You're only doing it to make Seven jealous, aren't you?"
Her mouth drops open and I almost applaud her acting skills.
She'll never willingly admit she has a thing for Seven, but I can't say I blame her.
He's a fucking lunatic. Leo is gorgeous, and much better suited for her, considering he has some semblance of human decency.
But there's no denying her chemistry with Seven, even if she refuses to acknowledge it.
She smirks while refilling our glasses, my head swimming with the wine buzz. "What are you going to do?"
"What should I do?"
"Well, you could confront him, or not. If you confront him, you get the satisfaction of arguing with him, which I know you absolutely love.
If you don't, you deny yourself of that but will probably drive him crazier than if you said anything at all.
I guess it depends on what your gut is telling you. Both are viable options."
I want to let it go, to allow him to stew in the mystery of my nonresponse, but I don't know if I have the self-control not to march over there and rip into him for breaking in here.
Sure, it was thoughtful, that much is true.
And now I have something to wear, along with some of the most beautiful accessories I ever could have imagined.
I love everything he picked out, I just wish he would have given me a choice in the matter, or maybe a heads-up before he broke into my apartment.
He might mean well but it was an invasion of my privacy and I'm not sure how that makes me feel.
Slipping off my chair, I chug my wine and wipe the droplet that rolls down my chin. I leave the empty glass on the counter and turn to Grace. "I'm going over there."
"Oh, like now?" Her eyes widen and she follows suit, drinking her wine and following me over to the door, not daring to convince me to stay put and think through what I'm about to do.
We're out of my apartment in a flash, storming over to his door, Grace hanging back as I pound my fist against the hard surface.
It takes twenty whole seconds before Archer opens up, barely cracking it as if he's hiding something inside. I hate the jealousy that arises at the idea that it might be another woman. Was he able to move on that quickly? Even after buying me all that expensive shit?
"London," he says, a hint of surprise in his tone.
"Archer." I try to look past him, to see into his apartment, but he keeps it blocked with his wide frame and tall stature.
"What do you want?" His gaze darts from me to Grace, who remains firmly behind me, her arms crossed over her chest. "Grace." He nods at her.
"Grace?" a voice calls out from farther within his place, the person attached to it gripping and pulling the door open to reveal the rest of the Sin family. Seven pushes past Archer, throwing his arm over Grace's shoulders and tugging her close.
"Ugh, gross. You reek of booze, Seven." She attempts to shrug him off but he keeps ahold of her.