Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Harper
Waking up with Ace wrapped around me was the best surprise. It made me not want to leave at all. Yet, somehow, I caught my flight. I got to Hudson's house.
I really need to speak to Emma once this dinner is done, because I feel like with all this going on, I’m leaving her in the dark, and she’s going to be worried.
The moment he opens the door to his grand mansion on the outskirts of LA, I hiss, "I'm not happy with this, Hudson." Because I want the record to reflect that I am here under protest.
"Well, happy to see you too, fiancée," he says, stepping aside with that infuriating half-smile that makes me want to put my fist through one of his walls.
I scowl at him as I brush past, tossing my overnight bag onto the marble floor.
"Cool place," I say, completely unamused.
It's a bachelor pad. Engineered from the ground up for parties, or orgies, most likely.
Open-plan everything. A bar that could service a nightclub.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the hills.
And we're supposed to host his parents for a sit-down dinner here.
In a house that screams, I have never once cooked a meal for a woman I respect.
"Want a tour?" he asks, keeping a careful distance. He's learning.
"Not really. Just toss my bag in the room I'm staying in. I'll be gone before sunrise."
His jaw twitches. "My parents might notice we aren't sharing a room. They’re staying here too."
I laugh. It's not a kind laugh. "Tell them I don't believe in sex before marriage. Or say we’re being respectful. You're a clever man, Hudson. Lie." I arch a brow. "You're also very good at that."
There is no way in hell I'm sharing a room with him. Not tonight. Not ever. The engagement ring on my finger weighs about ten tons, and every time the light catches it, I feel like a fraud.
Because I am one.
"Harper, are you okay?"
I run my fingers through my hair and take a breath that doesn't quite fill my lungs.
No. I'm not. Because I don't want to be here.
I want to be back at Sterling Ranch, curled into Ace's side on that couch, proving to the man I've loved for almost my entire life that I won't mess this up again.
That I love him. That I wish I'd never left.
And instead, here I am. Back in LA. Back to pretending. Back to lying. Being the exact opposite of the woman Ace deserves.
"It’s just the traveling," I say. Half true. "I'm tired. And I have work to do." Also true. I need to finish rewriting the property documents for Gianna, the ones I've been carefully reconstructing to give her only the information the Sterlings want her to see.
I'm also waiting to hear from Ace with a location on Gianna's brother's killer. Today, he’s kidnapping Thomas Graves. That's the kind of sentence that would've made me nauseous eight months ago. Now it barely registers. I don't know what that says about me.
Hudson scratches his stubble. "Gianna is actually coming here."
My mouth almost hits the floor. "What?"
The word comes out at a pitch that could shatter the obscene number of windows in this house.
"Of all the things you remembered to tell me, like picking up flowers, what outfits to wear, this engagement ring—" I hold up my hand, and the diamond catches the light like it's mocking me.
"You failed to mention that the Italian mafia is coming here, and I still haven't put together all her files because you made me drive to the outskirts of the goddamn city! "
He blinks at me. "Are you quite finished, Harper?"
I suck in a breath, snap my mouth shut, and remember exactly where I fall in this food chain.
At the bottom. Right at the bottom. That isn’t where I want to be. And when I was at the ranch, questioning those guys, it didn’t feel like rock bottom. It felt really damn good.
"Yes. Sorry." I straighten my shoulders. "Can you show me my room? I'll finish the document write-up. Do you have a printer?"
He frowns. "Don't you have the originals?"
Shit. "No. By law, they can't hand them over."
He nods, accepting my lie. The originals are at Sterling Ranch. "Yes. Just email them to me, I'll print them off. Gianna will be here in about an hour. Then my parents arrive at seven. Sharp."
"Got it, boss."
I grab my bag and follow him down a hallway that's longer than my entire apartment. My phone buzzes in my back pocket. I don't look at it. Not yet. Not while Hudson's watching.
But I know who it is. And just the thought of his name steadies something inside me that this house and this ring and this life keep trying to shake loose.
One night, I remind myself.
Then I'm going home.