Page 15 of Sleeping with the Frenemy

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you, too.” Victoria ended the call.

I waited. Always let the enemy make the first move.

Another lesson from my father.

She lowered the phone, her jaw set in a stubborn expression. “You should go.”

“After what just happened?” I gave the table a meaningful glance. “I think we should talk.”

“You heard my grandmother. I have a lot of work to do.”

“We both know that’s a lie. There’s nothing here to clean.”

“Because of you!” She jabbed the phone at me. “Your family ruined mine. You own most of our debts, or do you claim not to know anything about that?”

“I know about it.” Although, I hadn’t always.

She flashed a bitter smile. “Is that why you’re here? Daddy put you in charge of collections?”

“No.”

“So you’re going to forgive the debt?” Something dangerous entered her gaze. “Did I just settle what I owe, or do you expect more reunions?”

A little voice in the back of my head warned me to be very careful. There were about ten feet of dusty floorboards between us, and every inch felt covered with landmines. One misstep and I could blow everything up.

“That’s not what this is about,” I said. “The debt has nothing to do with what’s between us.”

“Yeah, it kinda does, Chase. We spent three months together.” Her voice rose. “We slept together, and you told me it was amazing and that you couldn’t live without me. Then you fucking left, and I didn’t hear from you for seven years. Now you just show up and expect, what?” She tilted her head. “What do you want from me, aside from the obvious? Sorry, but I don’t really have time to play your games right now. As you can see, I’m trying to make sure my family’s business doesn’t get bulldozed so we can give your billionaire father some pocket change!” She nearly shouted the last, her voice echoing around the barren room.

Her anger was a palpable thing, but the hurt underneath it was stronger. And she was right. Her family’s debt and my departure were intertwined—more so than she knew.

There was no sense feeding information to her piecemeal. She deserved the truth. All of it.

“I’m going to talk,” I said, “and I want you to listen. Don’t say anything. Just hear me out.”

She frowned but stayed silent.

“First, you should know I didn’t want to leave. My father…” I cleared my throat. “I’ve never lived up to my father’s expectations. Our relationship has always been volatile. We never lived in the same place for long. Always, we were on the move, building the next hotel and then the next and the next. He didn’t much care what I did or where I went, as long as I kept up with school. I never actually went to school. I had nannies…and tutors when I got older.”

Her frown deepened. God, I was rambling.

I realized I was fiddling with my bracelet and stopped.

Wrap it up, Valenti. Before she throws you out.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “Those three months in Virginville were the best of my life. I meant every word I said that final night, Victoria. I couldn’t live without you then, and I can’t now. I left because my father found out I planned to stay. He must have had us followed.”

“Followed?” Confusion filled her face.

“Yeah. When you have the kind of money we do, kidnapping becomes an issue.” Christ, I probably sounded like a lunatic. I sucked in a breath. “It doesn’t matter how he found out. But he did, and he put me on a flight to England the next morning. And he made sure I knew I’d be cut off from the family forever if I came back. No second chances.”

Silence stretched between us. Her expression was inscrutable, and I could almost see the gears turning in her head as she processed my words.

Finally, she said, “You were eighteen then, I get it. You chose your family and the Valenti money. But you’ve had seven years to make your own choices—”

“And I’m making them.”

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