Page 115 of Marry Lies
“I lost it. Is that what you want to hear? Prescott was adamant about investing into a high-yield stock. He knew the risks.”
I sink down onto the floor. “Have you told him?”
“Of course not,” my father answers.
Conniving, manipulative, piece of shit.
“I don’t understand why you can’t just pay her and tell her it’s coming from me?”
Because I already am.
Because I promised her that I wouldn’t lie to her.
Because I’m a selfish fuck, and I want her to stay the full year.
“Because I’m not you. Because unlike you, I don’t want to lie to my wife.”
My father has the audacity to click his tongue in a condescending manner.
“I think it’s a little too late for that, no?”
I look down at my phone screen and end the call before I hit someone.
I need to tell her. I need to lay it all out for her to decide, and I need to be okay with her leaving.
She needs the money.
She needs to bring VeRue to fruition.
I can’t be the reason she isn’t successful.
The first installment—a little less than one hundred thousand—isn’t enough.
My father lost Prescott Deveraux’s money. We’re a month in, and we’ve already conned both of them out of a million dollars.
I pull my phone out and call my accountant.
I don’t care if it’s nearly midnight.
I don’t care if I haven’t thought this through.
I don’t care if I’m acting impulsively.
He answers on the first ring. “Miles Ravage,” he drawls. “Calls this late are never a good thing, but I suppose that’s why you pay me so well.”
“Hello, Thomas. I need you to immediately wire a million dollars to Estelle Ravage. My wife.”
“I know who Estelle is,” he says, chuckling. “I’ve seen the headlines.”
I grimace.Just another reminder that all of this started as a sham.
But it’s not a sham anymore. Not to me.
I want her to stay.
Past the year.
Forever.
