Page 51 of His Little Secret in Discretion
The voice came from behind me. Too smooth. Too familiar. So deeply rooted in my memory, I felt it before I heard it.
My spine stiffened. Every muscle in my body tensed as I tightened my grip on my glass. Blaine had noticed the shift, apparently, as his hand stopped caressing my thigh and he looked over to me. But I couldn’t look at him. I kept my face trained down asFelixshook hands with each of the guys, with a smile almost as crooked as he was.
I wanted to disappear. I was supposed to be done with him. I was supposed to be getting my life back on track, yet the moment I feel like I have air to breathe, he invades my space so I can’t.
He didn’t look at me. Not yet.
He didn’t have to.
You are mine. You’ll never get rid of me, you know that, right?
The memory hit like a brick, and I felt the edges of my vision blur.
“Maia,” Blaine said quietly beside me, his hand now steady on my leg. “Sunshine, what is it?”
I blinked, forcing my lips into a strained smile.
“Nothing… just need a minute,” I said, my voice too calm for the panic raging inside my chest.
I stood, trying not to stumble as his hand fell from my leg. Every step I took away from the table felt like walking through wet concrete, dragging me down with every reminder from my past.
The bathroom was dim with more marble sinks and expensive tiles, too elegant for the way I gripped the counter like I was about to ruin it all in a moment with the bile building in my throat.
I stared at my reflection.
Don’t cry. Not here. Not now.
I’d shed enough tears when the man blacklisted me from having any kind of reputable job and ran my pockets dry while my uncle was in recovery. I didn’t need to shed any more.
Still gripping the edge of the sink, I sighed into myself, trying to steady my mind.
But when the door opened and the sound of shoes clicking against the floor rang through the bathroom, I already knew my doomed fate.
“You know, I almost didn’t recognize you,” he muttered, meeting my gaze in the mirror ahead.
I didn’t turn or move. The only part of me that reacted was my pulse, pounding so violently in my neck I was sure he could see it.
“You always did like to play dress-up…” he muttered, his eyes raking my figure up and down. “Guess the rich bastard cleaned you up good, huh?”
My fingers curled tighter around the marble.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“I paid you off,” I said, my voice barely holding.
“And you think that’s the reason I’m here?” He huffed a dark laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart… I’ve got much bigger things to deal with than little gold-digging whores.”
I flinched, just slightly. But he saw it.Of course he did.
“Still soft,” he uttered. “All that money, and it still couldn’t buy you a backbone.”
He took another step forward, making my skin cold.
“Let me guess. You found another man with money, batted your eyelashes, spread your legs, and now you think your problems are solved, huh?”
My heart punched against my ribs. But I didn’t move.
“You think Blaine fucking Porter makes you untouchable? You think he’s your ticket out of your fucking mess?”
