Page 96 of Believe it or Knot

I don’t wait for the elevator, even though taking the stairs in heels is a nightmare. The pain in my arches is nothing compared to the pain in my heart. I need to figure out what to do. I don’t have my car, since I drove into the city with the pack, so stupidly hopeful and in love and happy.

I refuse to linger in or near the building where the interview was going to take place, so as soon as I hit the street I’m striding away, my wallet and my phone clutched in my hands. I have the brief thought that I should call Gage. Even if I’m mad at him and he’s hurt, he’ll make sure I get home safe.

We might not talk the entire way, but he’ll do it.

But the idea of seeing him again so soon after what he accused me of? Of having to admit that he was right. Not about me, but about them. They didn’t want to keep me.

It was probably never their intention. I mean, why would they? I am nothing compared to them.

Gray accused me of being an excellent actor, of playing my role so perfectly, but the truth is the entire Cordova pack should get Oscars for their award-winning performance of falling for me. I believed them. Every whispered promise, every plea to go on a date with them. I fell for it all, hook, line and sinker.

Because I’m a naïve idiot.

When I shake off the thought, I find myself at the doors of the building the Falcone Pack owns. The one that Sadie lives in now.

It seems while I was lost in morose thoughts, my body kicked into self-preservation mode and brought me to the nearest safe space it could. I must have been walking for a while, but I didn’t even notice, numb to physical pain because of the pain in my heart.

Sadie and Sylvie are my safe space now. They have been since I first met them.

Swallowing around the thickness in my throat, I approach the front door. The door man, who is definitely a guard, eyes me but doesn’t comment as he opens the door for me.

The stupid heels click on the faux marble floor as I approach the security desk, still clutching my phone and my wallet in my hand. It’s a wonder I wasn’t mugged, wandering around the city in a daze with tears on my cheeks and a desolate look in my eyes. Though maybe any potential muggers took one look at me and thought I must be having a bad enough day without their interference.

The man behind the counter looks up as I approach, his gaze sharp. “Can I help you?”

I lean against the high counter and force a smile to my lip. It’s harder than it ever has been before, but I manage it. “Hi, sorry. I’m here to see Sadie Pierce- er, Falcone. She’s-”

“I know who she is.” He cuts me off.

I nod, my smile faltering, but not fading all the way. “Right, of course you do. Is she… do you know if she’s here?”

His eyes narrow on me. “If you’re here to see her, shouldn’t you know if she’s here?”

My breath shakes as I let it out, and tears well along my lower lashes, even as my stupid smile stays in place. I know he’s only doing his job. He’s security for the Falcone pack and, of course, he can’t just let me up to their penthouse. But dammit, I really don’t want to argue with him.

“Can you just call up-”

“No,” he says bluntly. “I can’t. You aren’t on the approved visitors’ list for today.”

“How do you know I’m not?”

His narrowed eyes run over me again. “I can just tell.”

Right, because I look like a lunatic with smeared makeup and red-rimmed eyes. “Please.” My voice cracks on the word. “I’m begging you, can you just-”

“Sorrel?”

Relief hits at the familiar voice tinged with an Irish accent. I turn toward the doors with my stupid wobbly smile still in place. “Hey, Logan.”

His red brows jump behind his glasses as he takes me in from head to toe. “What the hell happened?” He rushes over to me, his hand cupping my elbow when I lose the battle with my tears, and they start falling all over again.

“I-um-” My voice is so choked, my chest tight, my throat feels closed off. “Is Sadie here? Can I see her?”

He nods. “Yeah, she is. Let me take you up.” Then he glances over at the guard, sharply. “Put Sorrel Forbes on the approved list. If she comes here, call up immediately. No questions asked.”

The guard nods and types into his computer. The clicking of the keyboard blends with the clicking of the heels. It grates on my nerves, how eager I was to dress up, to put on this stupid pencil skirt and blouse, to tame my hair and put on too much makeup. I bent over backwards for them, to become someone they wanted, someone worthy of them, and they so easily discarded me like trash.

I pull to a stop and kick off the heels, leaving them on the ground for someone else to find. I think they’re something like a thousand dollars, so it should make their day. Logan gives me some serious side eye as he pulls me to a stop and stoops to pick up the red soled heels.

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