34. Miles
Miles
I parked far from the bar, finding the cool night air refreshing as I leaned against my car.
You’re doing the right thing, Miles.
Protecting Serena was my priority. After that, my family. I needed Victor’s real story.
A car pulled in, its lights blinding before it crawled toward me, and the door opened.
“You’re Whitmore?” he asked.
My mouth was dry. “It depends.”
The man stepped forward.
Late middle-aged, unremarkable face. Average height and build. Worn jacket, scuffed boots, weary eyes.
“I’m Burke,” he stated.
It had to be ironic or pure fucking luck that somebody looking into Victor found me.
Who else would be able to find me and put two and two together? But…this could also work with my plan. I could do what I couldn’t before, and get ahead of the scandal before it all went down.
“Mind if I ask how you found me?”
Burke gave a small shrug. “Wasn’t easy. I’ve been tracking Victor down for months—turns out he’s slippery. But he kept showing up in Lush. Odd little town for a guy like him.”
My brows lifted. “And?”
“And one day, I caught him talking to you.”
I paused. “Interesting. You tell anyone else that?”
“Do you want me talking about it?”
“What do you need from me, exactly?” I asked.
“I was hired by one of the families suing Victor—he conned them out of a lot of money and justice. I just need something that will stick on Victor and make the cops do a double take.”
“And you think I’m the missing piece to solve this?”
“I think you’re the only person he’s stupid enough to keep orbiting. He doesn’t trust anyone, but he keeps showing up near you. That means something. I need to know what he wants from you. What he’s planning.”
I inhaled deeply, and nodded.
“I’m not asking you to go public. I’m not asking you to wear a wire. I’m just asking you to give me what you know about him. Paperwork. Notes. Evidence. Anything to prove he’s into some shady shit.”
“What if I can get you a live confession?”
To move forward with Serena, we needed to leave the past behind. We had to put a stop to it, finally.
I leaned in. “I have an idea, if you’re game.”
The loud squeak of the condo door made me wince. The living room suddenly burst into light.
“You’re home,” Serena said in a flat voice. Doughboy lay beside her on the couch. Sitting up, she looked tense, her face all pinched.
“Where were you?” she asked, her eyes searching my face for an answer.
“At Mrs. Fontaine’s place.”
Serena tsked. “That’s lie number one.”
“What?”
“I went by the property. They told me you weren’t there.” she said calmly.
I shifted my weight, trying to keep my voice casual. “I had to step away for a bit. Handle a few things. How did it go with Miss Yvonne?”
“Don’t.” Her eyes narrowed. “Answer my question.”
Just tell her. Confess. It’ll be better that way. “Erik told me about Victor.”
My breath stalled, heart hammering once—hard—before the panic settled in.
“You—what?”
Her jaw clenched. “You lied to me.”
“No, I—” I ran a hand down my face. “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t…tell you.”
“Which is a lie, Miles.”
He told her. He fucking told her.
I opened my mouth, but the words felt like shards in my throat. Because she was right.
I’d been hiding Victor from her since the beginning. Not out of malice—at least, that’s what I told myself—but because if she knew the truth, everything would crumble.
“Serena,” I started. “I was trying to protect you.”
Her laugh was bitter and quiet. “Don’t insult me.”
“It’s not what you think?—”
“No, just…let me finish.” Her tone wavered for a split second, but the steel was still there. “I get it, Miles. I do. I know you’ve had to make choices—do things you probably hated just to survive. To protect your company. I’m not blind to that.”
She took a breath, jaw tense.
“But you should’ve told me. I’m your wife. You don’t get to make decisions that could wreck both of us and then keep me in the dark. That’s also why you should have told me the real reason you and Erik aren’t friends.”
“He told you that too?”
“Yeah. He told me everything. That he was the one who blew the whistle on your dad.”
Silence pressed down, thick and heavy.
So it was out. Finally out.
“He said he didn’t want to,” she added quietly. “But after what happened at that party, after what your father did to my dad, Erik said he couldn’t stay quiet.”
My throat burned. “He didn’t have to do it.”
“Come on, Miles. You know Erik. He’s always had a bigger sense of loyalty than you—especially when it comes to family. It was only a matter of time. And deep down…you knew that.”
Serena watched me closely, taking a step. “Unless that was your plan.”
“What?”
“You didn’t want to deal with your father. You didn’t want the responsibility of turning him in or confronting what he did. Erik knew. You kept stalling and let him do it.”
I looked away. The air was suddenly too thick.
“You didn’t have to betray your father,” she said, voice low, “because Erik did it for you. And you’ve hated him ever since for taking the choice out of your hands when you should have owned it.”
“That’s my father, Serena.”
She shook her head. “And now I’m your wife. What if that was going on today? Would you choose him or me?”
I turned from her, pacing the living room. “I kept hoping he’d stop. That he’d fix it before it got worse. That if I just held the line, kept the gossip off us, kept the company from crumbling, he’d wake up and fight for it too.”
Her silence was brutal.
“How do you deal with that? Watching the man you spent your whole life looking up to…crumble right in front of you? How do you reconcile that?”
“You don’t.” Her voice was calm. “You adjust. You grieve what you thought he was. And then you face what he really is.”
I shook my head, and this time, she was in front of me and reached out.
“Tell me the truth. Was all of this…what we have now…just your plan to get back at us? At me?”
That hit harder than it should’ve. I staggered back like she’d slapped me.
“Don’t fucking do that,” I hissed. “Don’t act like this was all some scheme. I didn’t fake what we had. I love you.”
She inhaled sharply, then closed her eyes, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose. When she looked at me again, the heat in her expression had cooled—but it wasn’t forgiveness. Just fatigue.
“I just need a break, Miles.” Her voice was quieter now. “To think. To breathe. We can talk in the morning.”
“Serena—”
“I’m not saying I’m done. I’m saying I’m tired.” She stepped around me and headed down the hall, her shoulders square, her spine straight.
Doughboy didn’t even stay.
The traitor trailed after her, tail flicking as he passed me.
She paused at the end of the hall. Glanced over her shoulder.
“I love you too,” she said softly. “But right now, that’s not the only thing that matters.”
Then she disappeared into the bedroom, the door closing behind her with a soft click that felt louder than any scream.