Page 173 of Chandelier Enthralled
“A non-disclosure?”
“Yes.”
“You think that’s necessary?”
Cameron tucked his hands into his pockets. “It’s wise.”
“You think Hugo will agree to sign it?”
“Let me put it like this, we’ll treat him to the finest champagne or any beverage he desires, a delicious hot meal, and all the comforts of luxury travel. He’ll enjoy the best sleeping experience ever while airborne, complete with endless snacks, in-flight entertainment, and every indulgence imaginable.”
I blinked at him, confused.Seriously?
Cameron met my gaze. “Once he’s off that flight, he will replay each of his missteps in vivid detail. No doubt he’ll impose his own form of punishment. It will be a self-inflicted torment, not through external means, but through the mechanism of his own mind. His thoughts will become his judge and executioner.”
“I thought you were an advocate for mental health.”
“He hurt you. There has to be retribution. The consequence for his behavior is he will never have you in his life again.”
Caressing my chest, I recalled the moment when I had discovered Hugo was at the same location as that pretty woman. He’d told me she was “no one special.”
Had he said that to her about me? That we were not happy, that we were not in a committed relationship?
That sinking feeling returned, reminding me of when I first read the messages between them in his phone, proving he was cheating on me. It tore my heart apart all over again.
That awful dread had lasted for days when Hugo refused to speak to me. I had done everything I could to placate him, but it was never enough.
The ghosting.
The lies.
The deceit.
The terrible sex with a selfish partner.
It had been nothing like what I had experienced yesterday with Greyson Grantchester—the best sex of my entire life.
I mean, after that what I had with Hugo was quite simply disappointing.
These thoughts allowed my mind to let go of its protective hold, finally allowing me to accept the truth of all Hugo had done to hurt me.
There was no love left in me for him.
“Maybe Shay can give a parachute to Hugo and throw him out of the plane,” I said at last.
Cameron grinned. “Maybe forget the parachute.”
“Whatever you think is best.” I smiled back at him, amused by his dark humor.
“There you go, finally thinking like a Cole.”
The scent of fresh flowers filled my car.
I had taken my time choosing the individual stems that would make up a bouquet, and they now rested on the passenger seat beside me.
The colors were exquisite, but they weren’t enough.
How do you thank a woman who just yesterday saved your public and private life? Willa had again proven how smart she was by solving Amelia’s murder, discovering the footage that would vindicate me.
