Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Arabella
I slowly pivot to make sure I’m seeing this correctly.
The lobby of the hotel is crowded, but I’d still recognize him anywhere.
Preston.
Only he isn’t alone.
His back is to me, as he stands facing the wall, and over his shoulder I catch a peek of blonde hair.
Interesting.
Slowly, I start walking toward them, my ear cocked. The crowd is loud enough that I don’t hear much until I’m standing right behind Preston.
“Fuck, baby, you’re so hot,” Preston groans, his hips pressing into hers. Is he humping her in the lobby?
It’s not that I’m jealous. I’m not sure I would have been even if we were still engaged. My pride would have been wounded, but I’d have gotten over that.
I’ve been up to my own extracurricular activities and, if we’re being honest, Preston and I never had a real relationship.
We had a few real dates. But that’s about it. This whole thing was really more of a bad merger.
My arms cross as I try to figure out how to play this. I won’t fake sad. But I want Preston to know that I know.
It’s just one more weapon in my break-up arsenal.
I really am sounding more and more like a Kincaid. I clear my throat, but I don’t think they hear me over the wet sounds of the kissing.
Gross.
No wonder I never went that far with Preston.
Taking my phone out of my clutch, I hit his name.
“Fuck,” he rumbles, lifting his head long enough to look at my name on his screen and then he dismisses the call. “I’m late.”
“Don’t go,” she whines. “Stay with me, baby. Take me upstairs.”
“I already told you, Mason’s going to be there. I don’t give a fuck about her, but him…”
“You’re not really going to marry her, are you?” She says in this pouty voice that sets my teeth on edge.
Preston kisses her again, long and sloppy, and now I feel the irritation rise. This is why he can’t ever take my calls or call me when his parents come into town, because he’s busy fucking some other woman. Meanwhile, he tells me over and over how I’m the one failing. Fuck him.
“Preston,” I say. Loudly. “You haven’t answered her question.”
He lifts his head and slowly pivots, his eyes wide. “Bella.”
I hear the gasp, but I don’t look at her. I don’t care about her. I don’t really care about him either, but I have a score to settle. “Let me answer for you. No, we’re not getting married. You can have him, sweetheart, but just in case he hasn’t told you, he’s got no money of his own. Everything he’s been spending on you belongs to my family.”
And then I pivot, walking with my head high across the lobby. Was that a low blow? Maybe. Did he deserve it? Definitely.
But I’m only halfway across when Preston catches up to me, his grip biting into my elbow. “Wait.”
“No, thank you,” I try to pull my arm from his grip, but he tightens it as he spins me. I nearly fall on my heels but just catch myself as he drops his face into mine. “We are not done.”
“Yes, we are.”
His grip grows painful, and it takes everything in me not to cry out. “I told you last time I dropped into your apartment that you are fucking marrying me.”
“Being embarrassed that I’ve called off the wedding,” I grit back, my teeth clenched. “That sounds like a you problem.”
“It’s about to be a you problem,” he spits back, his saliva hitting my cheek. I close my eyes, a reflex to keep the spit out.
“Miss Kincaid,” a deep voice to my right makes me snap them open again. A security guard for the hotel is only two feet away. “Do you need some assistance?”
My shoulders wilt with relief, as I look around and notice several people staring. Clearing my throat I give a small nod. “Would you be so kind as to escort me to my car?”
“Of course,” he answers as Preston slowly releases me. Once I’m free, I say to the guard, “Two of my brothers are dining at Cheval Blanc, please inform them of the incident when you return.”
I hear Preston spit a string of curses. I don’t look back as the guard lightly takes my arm, helping me outside, my car pulling up a moment later.
When I slide in, I sigh with relief. Hitting a button on my Apple CarPlay, I order from my favorite sushi restaurant and request delivery.
I don’t think I’m leaving my house again tonight.
Pulling into the garage, I sigh with relief as the elevator doors slide closed. I hope I did some good work with my brothers.
And as for Preston…
He can go to hell for all I care.
I head into my apartment, slipping off my strappy sandals, and make my way into the bedroom, to put them away.
My dinner will be here in a few minutes, so I take off the dress and pull on a pair of shorts and short T-shirt. I briefly consider just putting on pajamas, but then think better of it. I’ll change again after my food is delivered.
Heading out to the kitchen, I pour myself a sparkling water and then a second glass of wine. I’m celebrating tonight, and I barely had any of my first glass.
But I’ve only had the first sip when a knock sounds at my door.
Setting the glass down, I pad over, glad my sushi is a little early. I’m starving.
But when I open the door, my breath stops in my lungs, because standing in front of me is not the delivery guy, it’s Preston.
Shit.
I try to close the door, but he throws his hand up, inserting his body into the opening, as he pushes the door back open again. “You didn’t think you were getting away that easy, did you?”
“Preston,” I start but before I can say any more, his hand comes down hard across my cheek.
Pain explodes through my face and skull as I stumble back. But he’s on me in a second, his hand at my throat as he spits in my ear. “We’re going to finish our conversation now, you little bitch.”
I try to gasp in a breath, both my hands coming to his wrist. “Preston. Stop.”
“You want to know the truth?” He spits in my face again. “I don’t mind slumming it. In fact, I like a woman from the other side of the tracks, but you…” His face is twisted and angry. Ugly. “Are just a sewer rat who somehow still thinks she’s better than everyone else.”
“I don’t think that,” I push out as his other hand twists into my hair, pulling hard.
“First,” he says, “you’re going to let me fuck you. And then, you’re going to put my ring back on and you’re going to fucking smile when you tell Mason it’s all been a mistake.”
I try to breathe but I’m seeing stars as I tighten my grip on his wrist. I need air.
That’s when his phone rings.
“Fuck,” he grits out and just as suddenly as he grabbed me, he lets me go.
I crumple to the ground, gasping in deep breaths.
“Mason,” Preston says by way of greeting. “I’m sorry I was late.”
My brother? My brother is on the line? “Mason,” I try to cry out, but my voice won’t work. Not enough to be heard.
Tears fill my eyes as I curl into a ball on the floor. But that’s when I feel my phone in my pocket. Tentatively, I withdraw the device, trying to hide it from Preston. I can’t see, my eyes are too blurred by tears, so I push the first number in my call list. Is it Mason? Luke? I think it’s Luke.
“Bella?” I hear Gris’s deep baritone slide through the speaker, and I wilt in relief. I know Gris can’t come here. It would ruin everything. But I need help.
“I need Luke,” I whisper, my voice catching, as I cut him off.
I hear Preston talking to Mason, his back to me. “No, I’m with Bella now. Just a lover’s spat. Nothing to worry about.”
“I’m on my way, already. Almost there.” His voice is edged with steel.
I hear Preston. “I can’t put her on, Mason, she’s in the bathroom. You know women and conversations like these, she’s all teary.”
“Is that cunt on the phone with your brother?”
“Yes,” I say, but Preston must hear me because, as I’m inching by him, his hand lashes out and grabs my ankle.
I manage a hoarse cry, and I hear Mason’s voice on the phone. “What the fuck was that?”
“Yapping dog in the hall,” Preston answers. “Listen, I’ll have Bella call you back in five. Just give us a minute to work this out.”
And then he hangs up.
I keep my phone buried in my hair, even as he keeps pulling me, sliding me on my back across the floor.
Then he drops down, straddling my hips with his, his knees coming down on either side of my waist as his hand comes to my throat again.
“Now, like I said, you’re going to stop being a frigid ice queen, you’re going to spread your legs, and you’re going to let me fuck you.”
I’m choking on a sob as I push out a hoarse whisper. “You don’t want me.”
“What does wanting you have to do with it? You’re fucking mine, Bella. You, and your shares, and your seat on the board. All mine. Which means you will do as I say.”
I’m gasping even as Preston eases back. “But I’m a man of reason…”
I stare at him. Gris has been silent and I don’t even know if he’s still on the line. That is until I hear the soft click of a car door.
And then the ding of an elevator door.
“What… what does that mean?”
“Why don’t you go clean yourself up? Wash your face. And put on something pretty.” Preston sneers. “You look like shit.”
He wants me to make myself pretty so that he can force himself on me?
Through the phone, I hear the ding of the elevator again. Is Gris on my floor?
Preston pushes himself up and starts striding toward the bathroom. “Oh yeah, and you’re going to have to call Mason and tell him that the wedding is back on.” And then he closes the powder room door.
“Gris?”
“I’m right here, sweetheart.” And then my apartment door opens.
Thank goodness.