I wasn’t intimidated. Just pissed off she kept showing up like a fart stain on underwear every time I tried pushing her out of my mind.
“Louisa! What a delightful surprise. Lost your way to Chanel?” I put on my best fuck-you smile.
“Oh, Emmabelle, I do love your dress. What is it exactly? Victoria’s Secret shag-me-in-the-dark?” she drawled, perching her bony ass on the edge of the seat.
Her vintage Hermes told me she meant business. Nobody had any business carrying a 250k bag unless they were willing to show what was inside it was equally as impressive.
“To what do I owe this visit?” I purred, cutting straight to the chase.
“I think we both know the answer to that question, so why don’t we skip the part where I insult your intelligence and you waste my time?”
“Sounds good.” I curled my hair around one finger playfully. “So you’re still holding out hope you can get your claws on my boyfriend?”
I had no idea why I decided to call him that in front of her, but it felt right. The title. The weight of it. Besides, Devon called me his girlfriend the other day, so surely I wasn’t completely off base. Even if I was pretty sure he currently wanted to murder me.
“Girlfriend?” she huffed. “Devvie’s family will never accept you. In fact, there will be no family to accept you after this is all done and dealt with. Devon might seem tough and unrelenting when it comes to his mother, but trust me, he spent half his lifetime trying to cater to her every whim. Family is everything. If you care for him, you would not deprive him of his. One baby is not enough to replace all he’d be losing.”
This woman had some ovaries on her—balls implied that women didn’t have courage, an idea I rejected promptly. After all, it wasn’t men who found themselves pushing a watermelon-sized human out of their pee pee hole.
Draping my hand on my chest, I feigned shock.
“I didn’t realize I was destroying his life. Please allow me to remedy the situation immediately by moving to a tropical country and changing my name so he can’t find me.”
The words—you guessed it—were spoken in a fake English accent.
“Don’t play dumb. We both know his relationship with you is the only thing in the way of our marriage,” Louisa bit out impatiently.
“So?” I yawned. “We’re both consenting grown-ups. And I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re kind of in the middle of taking a huge step together.”
“The step means nothing in your situation. You’re not getting married. You don’t love him, I do. He means nothing to you.”
This time, each of her words cut into me like shards of glass, because I realized they weren’t true.
Still, I couldn’t confess my feelings to Devon, let alone this she-devil.
“What’s your point?” I drummed on the back of my laptop, rolling my eyes.
“Let him go. Tell him you don’t want anything to do with him. Open the path for him to go back to his family, to his sister, to me. This is his destiny. It’s what he was born for.”
“He was born to make his own decisions.”
“No, maybe you were. A commoner, with no legacy or responsibilities. Devon was made for greater stuff.”
Outrage propelled me from my seat. I threw my hands up in the air for good measure.
“You want me to tell him to screw off so you can marry him? Give me one goddamn reason why I should.”
“Very well. I’ll give you one million of them.”
Louisa slammed her bag between us on my desk with a thud and took out a pre-written check.
I had to blink rapidly to see if the numbers were right. Yup. Sure were. One million dollars, paid to the order of Emmabelle Petra Penrose.
I twisted my thumb ring without touching the check, which was now sitting on the desk between us. I ran my teeth over my lower lip.
My rage was replaced with worry and trepidation.
How did she know my middle name?
How long had she been gunning for me to leave Boston?
And didn’t all of this feel just a little too … familiar? Like maybe Frank wasn’t the only source of the threats toward me.
I tried to think about it pragmatically. To do what was best for me and the baby.
Devon was a risk. I felt all kinds of things toward him. Things I had no business feeling. If he married Louisa, I wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. I’d never touch a married man again, dead or alive. The problem would be solved.
And while we were speaking about the pros of taking the money, I would be set for life. I could keep Madame Mayhem and still take a huge step back. Provide security for myself without having to jump through hoops, carry a weapon, and beg Sam Brennan to pick up my calls.