Page 4 of The Ring Thief
He’s on the phone. My stomach swoops low, that uneasiness slithering down my spine, looking for a place to sink its fangs. I shouldn’t be listening to this, but I’m frozen, unable to move.
A hint of softness creeps into his voice. “Sweetheart, you need to trust me.”
Those fangs sink deep, and my heart leaps wildly in my chest.
He’s not talking to Carter.
It feels like I’ve stepped into an ice bath, a shudder wracking my body. My hands tremble around my phone, a voice in my head screaming at me to run, but I’m frozen in place.
“I have it all under control,” he repeats. “Just trust me, Silvia.”
Silvia.
I feel like I’m about to reenact the scene from that movie when an alien bursts out of someone’s chest. I press a hand to my heart, feeling the thunderous rhythm beneath my palm, imagining it bursting free—splintering bone, shredding through muscle—and deciding that it might hurt less than what Declan’s just done to me.
Silvia is his friend. They grew up together, their families close enough to go on holidays abroad together. She’s also someone who hated me on sight, never missing an opportunity to slice at me with her razor-sharp tongue. I’d mentioned it to Declan once, just telling him that she made me uncomfortable, but he’d dismissed my worries, telling me that it was just her personality and not to take anything she said personally.
I hadn’t bothered to mention it again. She was part of his life, whether I liked it or not, but I didn’t have to see her that often, so tolerating her presence hadn’t seemed like such a big ask.
Even after I’d heard her cackling with her friends about my lack of class, my gap-toothed smile, and the fact I was reaching by thinking I couldeverkeep someone like Declan Masters…the same man who’d always said the gap between my front teeth was endearing.
Sweetheart, trust me.
There’s a muffled footstep, like he’s moving around the bedroom. I shuffle backwards, tucking myself behind the open door and spinning wildly for an excuse if he suddenly comes in and finds me lurking.
“I’ll get the signatures when I’m back, and once everything’s in my name, I’ll end it.” A pause before he suddenly grunts. I can almost see him, thrusting a hand through his thick blond hair as he glares off into space. “I told you all this before we left. Silvia, for Christ’s sake. Cut the dramatics, would you? You know this is the way it had to be done. There was too much bad blood between us.”
Between who?
He sighs. “Look, I can’t talk about this right now. I need you to hold onto this for a little bit longer. You don’t need to tell him anything…” He chuckles, but nothing about it sounds familiar. It feels like I’m listening to a stranger, not the man I promised forever to. “We’ll catch up as soon as I’m back.”
My throat feels so thick, as if it’s closing up, and I inhale roughly, stepping back out into the hallway and slowly easing the door closed. The click of the lock engaging sounds like a gunshot. I trip backwards, eyes wide as I wait for it to open and for my husband to appear, full of questions and accusations.
A minute later and nothing happens, but I can’t stay here. Not when I’m sure that when he said, ‘I’ll end it’, he was talking aboutus.
Spinning on my heel, I practically run for the elevator, mashing the button until the doors slide open. Relief spikes when I see it's empty, but it barely dents the adrenaline and panic racing through my system. I hit the button for the lobby and then lift my phone, pulling up my contacts. Scrolling frantically through them, I find the one I want, listening to it ring once before a voice answers, “Lily?”
“I need help.”
CHAPTER 3
Lily
The gentle movements of the waves against the shore feel like a direct contrast to the storm brewing in my chest, stopping me from taking a full breath. I scan the beach in front of me, watching all the people, my nerves feeling raw at their happiness.
Palm fronds above my head rustle in the warm breeze, and a strand of hair blows across my face. I shove it away impatiently, listening as Sasha mutters every kind of curse word she can think of.
“What kind of asshole calls any woman sweetheart, when she isn’t his wife or partner?” she hisses. “A moron, that’s who. And he was talking to Silvia? You’re sure?”
I dig my toes into the gritty sand, blinking back the water in my eyes. “It was definitely her.” There’s a loud silence, broken only by her rage-filled breathing. I can picture her, dark hair tied back and hazel eyes flashing, her nose flaring like a bull who’s about to charge.
The image makes my mouth twitch, as if my lips want to smile but can’t.
“Maybe—” she sucks in a whistling breath, something thumping in the background. “Maybe you misunderstood.” The words come out gritted, like she’s got her teeth clenched.
I look up at the sky, searching for clarity where there is none. “I keep hearing him say you need to trust me,” I say instead. “Likeshe’s in on a secret that I’m not. He shouldn't have secrets with another woman, Sash. Friend or not.” I squeeze my eyes shut, desperately willing the tears back. “He shouldn’t be talking to another woman when we’re three days into our honeymoon. My husband shouldn’t be calling anyone else sweetheart, like she… like she means something to him.”
“I know, Lily.” Her voice is soft, full of hurt. “Declan is…” she falters, but then pushes on. “He loves you. Anyone can see that.” She forces strength into her voice, as if she can convince us both that this is okay. “Do you really think he’s that good of an actor? To fool you and everyone else?”
