Page 73 of Sins (The Sins Trilogy 1)
He looked confused for a moment, then gaped at me. “Those photos you showed me? Lauren looks nothing like that girl.”
“Fucking liar. One day I’ll show you what it’s like to be betrayed, you motherfucker. I’m gonna hurt you the same way you hurt me!”
I spiraled out of control afterward. Drank too much. Raged like a lunatic. Screamed. Picked fights. Hated everything and everyone. I wanted the world to fucking burn if Ivy wasn’t going to be in it anymore.
A few weeks later, Father showed up, ostensibly to tell me to control myself.
Fuck that shit. If I could just control myself like that, I would have, wouldn’t I? He thought he was so much better than me, but what the hell did he know? He was shit. Just like everyone.
I drunkenly told him, jabbing my finger into his chest, “Go fuck yourself, Tulane Charles Blackwood. Fuck you and everyone you cater to.” That got me publicly disowned—since Father correctly interpreted “everyone he caters to” to mean Mother. For the first and only time since I was twelve, I couldn’t contain the fury inside me—the blame, the hate—that if she’d been a little bit nicer to Ivy, just the tiniest bit merciful to me, I might not have lost Ivy so brutally.
Then I lashed out further, telling him I didn’t give a fuck if I got officially disowned, because I’d been dead to them since the day Katherine died, and Mother must’ve danced a jig when she heard Ivy was dead because she knew how much that would pain me. After all, isn’t that what she wants—to squeeze every drop of grief and misery out of me until I’m a broken shell?
It was Edgar who came to Los Angeles and pulled me out of self-destruction. “Can’t have revenge on Ryder if you’re this pathetic, can you?” he said, using my rage to drag me out of hell. “Can’t make your mark if you’re weak.”
By the time I pulled myself together, Lauren had died in a fire in Mexico—dumped by Ryder. Guess the son of a bitch decided he didn’t want her after all. Why the hell did he take her in the first place, then?
I heard from the grapevine almost a year later than she’d been pregnant when she died. I should’ve felt something, but I didn’t. I was numb to her and everything she’d done to me because it was the only way I could function. The only thing I felt was pity for the unborn child. The kid likely wasn’t mine. Maybe that was why Ryder dumped her so fast—a pregnant girlfriend would get in the way of his hot-shit Hollywood lifestyle. I was a fool to think he and I had anything in common. He’s a shallow bastard, just like his parents.
To avoid making another monumental mistake like Lauren, I no longer allow myself to date strawberry blondes. Brunettes with dark eyes only. Ideally with zero musical talent. Normally proportioned hands, no long fingers.
“Tony. You have to let it go. This isn’t healthy.” Edgar’s voice jerks me back to the present. “Seven years ago, the draw was your friendship with Ryder Reed. Now the draw is you and your financial empire. This woman could be part of a con—they’re more sophisticated now, and you’ve made enemies. Hell, for all we know, it could be Ryder’s doing. There are a lot of actresses who would to do anything to star in a movie with him.”
Edgar is aware of how I tried to fuck with Ryder and his wife some months ago. I told him over a drink once. Told him I felt like a fucking idiot because I couldn’t even be ruthless enough to hurt a woman who’d never done anything to hurt me. Tried to paint myself as a complete loser, but my brother looked at me with some small relief instead.
Edgar continues, “Don’t let some unknown woman use you, no matter how much you wish the cops had made a mistake identifying Ivy’s body. It’ll be a thousand times worse this time.”
“I know. You don’t have to worry.” Even to my own ears, I sound unconvincing.
And Edgar isn’t stupid. “Good. Then let me handle it. I’ll look into her for you.”
“You don’t want her to be Ivy, so…”
“I won’t tell my investigator anything except to look into her background. That’s it. No bias.”
I nod because Edgar won’t give up until I do. And he’ll keep his word and be scrupulously fair.
He goes to the guest room to get some sleep before his flight. I finish another whiskey, thinking back on the encounter at Hammers and Strings. If there’s even the slightest chance Ivy somehow survived…
I pick up my phone and text Wei, sending a link to the video. Find the pianist.
You’re an idiot, Tony. Chasing a ghost, my head says in a voice full of disgust.
My mouth twists bitterly. It doesn’t matter what I agreed to. I can’t sit on my ass and do nothing, even though this is probably how men fall and empires crumble.
