32. Reed
For a second, I think I'm hallucinating at the sight of her, which after the crazy few days I’ve had, wouldn’t be too ridiculous.
The lobby is chaotic with people moving everywhere, the noise almost deafening, but striding toward me in the middle of it all is Eloise.
My brain slightly short circuits at the sight of her, because she isn’t supposed to be here, at least not as far as I am aware.
Sure, she talked about visiting, but so far the timing hasn’t fallen in our favor, and I spoke to her like two days ago and she never mentioned coming to see me.
Maybe she wanted it to be a surprise? Either way, I’m so happy to see her.
I’m leaving the guys behind and erasing the distance between us before I can even tell anyone she’s here, just so excited to catch up with her.
Except as I reach her, I notice a wary look in her eyes masked by a smile, and before I even have time to question it, she is throwing her arms around my neck and pulling me in close.
"It's so good to see you, baby,” she says loudly, too loudly, as she rises up onto her toes and kisses my lower cheek, close to my mouth.
It’s only then I realize what she is doing before I saw it was even needed.
Anyone watching us would see exactly what they're supposed to see, the perfect girlfriend greeting her boyfriend after weeks apart. The image my father spent years carefully constructing, and with the press surrounding us, I can’t say I blame her.
Except the second she touches me, I feel it.
She’s shaking. It’s so small that it’s almost imperceptible, but it’s there, and my stomach drops.
I pull her closer and lower my mouth beside her ear. "What the fuck is going on?"
Her grip tightens instantly. "I can't explain here." Her voice is barely audible. "We need to get upstairs."
Ice floods my veins, because Eloise never panics, not anymore, not after everything we have been through together.
So the fact she's scared enough to be trembling, means something is very wrong. Around us, camera flashes explode, and I glance toward the press area and immediately spot at least six photographers pointing lenses directly at us. Of course. This weekend is a who’s who of the rich and elite, which means we will be watched heavily.
I force a smile and wrap an arm around her waist, falling seamlessly back into a role I could play in my sleep. "Come on, darling, let’s go upstairs."
Eloise nods quickly, as together we cross the lobby, while cameras continue clicking behind us.
I don't look toward Wilder, I can’t, because I know he will already be watching us.
And it doesn’t matter that he knows this part I am playing isn’t real, it still twists something sharp inside of me at the fact he has to see it now.
I don’t want to see the judgement in his eyes that he won’t mean but can’t help.
And worse? I don’t want to see understanding in them either.
A few minutes ago I was watching him climb out of the car, and wondering how the hell I was going to resist him for two more months, but now I have a feeling that problem just became insignificant.
The elevator doors slide open and I guide Eloise inside, slamming my thumb into the button that closes the doors, before anyone else can join us.
The second they close, Eloise practically deflates against the wall. "Oh my God,” she gasps, as if she has been fighting to stay upright.
“What is it? What happened? Is my brother okay?” I ask, as she drags both her hands through her hair.
“I am so sorry,” she starts, and my gut fills with dread, as I erase the space between us.
“Eloise, is my brother okay?”
She nods, her eyes filling with tears. “Freddie is fine, he’s safe I promise, he’s at home with your mom.
He still can’t travel because of his broken arm, it was a bad break apparently.
” My pulse spikes at that, not just because of what she said about my brother’s arm, but because she said at home with your mom, not with your parents.
“Eloise,” I say again slowly, already knowing what’s coming.
"I didn't even get a chance to warn you." The words come out in a rush, and a cold dread settles in my stomach. "He ambushed me."
My father.
"What did he do?"
"My parents invited me to dinner, a normal dinner because they missed me supposedly.” She laughs bitterly, as if she can’t handle that she even believed such a thing, and I already hate where this is going. "I got there and your father was waiting for me."
"Eloise," I say again, but she shakes her head, tears gathering in her eyes, as she reaches into her purse.
The elevator continues climbing, floor after floor falling out from beneath me, and I can’t breathe. When she speaks again her voice cracks. “He wants you to give me this.”
She pulls out a small velvet box, black of course, and my world stops entirely.
Oh fuck. I feel nothing like the way I did when Wilder pulled out a similar box, because I know this one means it’s finally happening.
I’m shaking my head before I even realize it, taking the box from her, knowing what’s inside, but needing to see it for myself.
I open it and the diamond catches the light, big, expensive, inevitable.
A platinum prison in disguise, that we always knew would come eventually.
“I tried to call you,” she sighs, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks, as the ring blurs in front of me.
"Fuck." The word barely leaves my mouth, but still it lands like a bomb waiting to detonate between us. I try to think, to breathe, to not completely lose my mind, but it’s no use.
Then Eloise whispers the thing I've been dreading most. "He's here." My head snaps up, as another realization slams into my chest like a bullet.
"What?"
"We both flew in at dawn, he got us our own room, but he’s waiting in the penthouse for us." The elevator opens on what I can only assume is the floor she needs, and she steps out, but I don’t follow.
Fear is heavy inside of me, but there is desperation too, because he isn’t just doing this to me, he’s doing it to Eloise too.
“Go to our room, I’ll meet you there later,” I state firmly, pressing the button for the penthouse harshly, but as the doors move to close, her arm flies out to stop them.
“I’ll come with you.” She tries to climb back on the elevator, but I stop her.
Before it was panic, now it feels like something certain has just shifted into place, like the sight of the diamond gave me the clarity I have been searching for.
I always knew this was coming, maybe not today, maybe not in Sweden, but I knew.
My father has always had a vision for my life, rules for what he expects of me, but it’s only now I truly understand why I need to go through with it.
It’s not just sacrificing my happiness and who I am, no, it’s so much more than that.
“Eloise, go,” I tell her again, watching her give up the war with her tears and finally letting them fall.
“Reed,” she chokes out, no doubt spiraling as much as I am.
“Please.” For a moment she looks like she might argue, but I pull her in for a hug. “Just let me do this,” I plead, and she nods against me, before I pull away and let her step back.
She pushes a keycard into my hand with shaking fingers. “Room 1312,” is all she says, and I nod.
Then the doors close between us and I am forced to face my reflection in the mirrored walls, as the numbers climb up to the penthouse.
I barely even recognize myself, not just because my hair is still blond, and the blue in my eyes looks pale.
No, it’s because the version of myself I never let fully come to life, is dying right before me.
I try to sort my thoughts as quickly as I can, thinking of what I need to say, and it all comes down to the remaining amount of time I have left of the racing season.
The last bit of time I can be Reed and not Prescott Lamont, the last bit of time I can build a life that belongs only to me, the last bit of time I can chase the feeling I get every time Wilder looks at me.
My fist tightens around the box in my hand, the sight of the diamond clashing with Wilder’s smirk in my mind. He could have ruined my life, and it’s only now I am realizing how close I was to letting him.
When I finally reach the penthouse, my father’s assistant lets me in, before fleeing for safety and I can’t say I blame them.
I find my father is exactly where I knew he would be, sitting alone, overlooking the city like he owns everything in sight.
A glass of whiskey sits on the table beside him, completely untouched, but the second I walk inside, his eyes slowly make their way to meet mine.
He doesn’t get up, doesn’t greet me, doesn’t even smile, just assesses me with cold, dead eyes.
Thankfully, after spending the last few days with Caden Miles, I don’t find my father’s stare as unnerving as I usually do.
“Father, what an unexpected, yet welcome surprise,” I say by way of greeting, not even trying to sound sincere, as I slam the box down on the table between us.
It feels like a line finally being drawn in the sand, one that feels especially hard to make considering how things have felt with Wilder recently.
He made me forget, not just who I am, but who I need to protect, and I can’t let that happen again.
Instead, I push him out of my mind and hold my father’s stare with my head held high.
For some reason that does earn me a smile, and for a moment, neither of us says anything.
Then he gestures toward the empty chair across from him in a way he’s never done before.
I don’t make any attempt to take it, and his eyebrows lift, his head tilting slightly, assessing me.
Maybe that tiny act of defiance surprises him, but I’m too on edge to care.
"I have a proposition for you," I start, seeing no reason to beat around the bush, and I can see I have got his full attention.
He leans back in his chair. "I'm listening."