Deception (Infidelity #3)

I walked toward the mirror. The skin of my neck was red, though he hadn’t squeezed hard enough to leave the markings of his fingers.

Alton went to my dresser and opened two doors revealing multiple drawers filled with jewelry. As he searched, he said, “I was working to get her back here before this change of events. As with everything else, I’ve given up on your ability to influence her decisions. Besides, I won’t allow this Moore girl to change the intended outcome.”

Turning from my jewelry, Alton silently handed me a beaded necklace. It was shaped like a large triangle, the design hanging like a scarf secured high on my neck with the point falling just over the neckline of my dress.

It would hide any signs of his recent power play.

Illusion.

Willingly, I took the jewelry, removed the necklace I’d been wearing, and attempted to secure the larger one. But as I did, Alton came up behind me and reached for the clasps. I lowered my hands as he latched the necklace. Next, he leaned toward my ear and brushed the side of my neck with his lips.

“Mrs. Fitzgerald, I suggest that you make your daughter listen.” The scent of tobacco and Cognac filled my senses, and his voice rumbled through me, a stark contrast to the menacing meaning of his warning. “This cover story will be just that. The way I see it, it will bring Alexandria to her senses.” With the necklace secure, our eyes met in the mirror and his hands cupped my shoulders. “It is in everyone’s best interest to keep those people, that family, away from Montague women. I would hate to see anyone get hurt.”

He handed me my glass. “Drink up, darling, we have family waiting.”

I took the glass, but instead of drinking, I lifted my brow. “Does that mean Suzy is here?”

“Why of course.”

I emptied the contents of the glass and left it on the table near the door. To hell with my new pledge to stay alert—some instances were better left forgotten. I was certain that it would take more than one glass of cabernet to make it through this dinner.

Nervous laughter came from the parlor as we descended the grand stairs. We stood at the archway, my arm in the crook of my husband’s as the farce played out around us. Bryce was at the far end of the room, an empty tumbler in his hand. No doubt, he’d had the same before-dinner cocktail as his father.

Nothing but the best Cognac for the Fitzgeralds, even the illegitimate ones.

Though I felt no pity for Bryce, I saw through his bravado. The look in his gray eyes as he turned toward Alton and me—he wasn’t looking at me. His full attention was on his father, seeking his approval, pleading for a sign that this plan would work out.

I fought the urge to turn to my husband and witness his silent response. Just as I was about to look, my attention went to the two women on the small velvet loveseat. My best friend was absolutely doting over Bryce’s new slut.

Though I’d met Chelsea before, in this environment she looked different. No doubt Suzy had helped with the slut’s appearance. She wasn’t unattractive. With her hair up and her lovely young figure accentuating a stunning black cocktail-length dress, she turned from Suzy to me, her hazel eyes reflecting the same plea I’d just seen in Bryce’s.

“Mrs. Fitzgerald,” Chelsea said as she stood.

“Adelaide,” Suzy offered. “There’s no need for formalities.”

I took a step forward.

Chelsea extended her hand, but I merely nodded.

“Mrs. Fitzgerald…” I let my stone-cold gaze move from Chelsea to Suzanna and back to Chelsea. “…will work just fine, Miss Moore.”





“CHARLI?”

The sound of my name resonated through my dreams, pulling me from my slumber as a warm touch skirted my back, tracing my spine before resting on my shoulder. The connection created a lifeline back to reality. It was one I hadn’t realized I needed or even wanted. For so long I’d pretended to be strong. I probably wasn’t fooling anyone, except maybe myself. I’d thought that during all of those years in Montague Manor that I’d been alone, but I hadn’t.

Jane’s voice over the phone, her words, and reassurance—they’d always been there, whenever I needed them. More than that, she’d been the one to constantly remind me that I had my mother’s support, even when I couldn’t see it. Most of all, Jane had told me that I was loved, was kind, and was beautiful—inside and out.

In the time after the call and before I’d drifted to sleep, I recalled the night years ago, the night before I left for Stanford and my mother’s visit to my room. In Montague Manor I’d learned to be strong, but I’d had help—invaluable help. Without Jane’s and my mother’s encouragement, I may never have been brave enough to start over in California, to become Alex.

My heart ached at the realization. Chelsea had been part of that transition too. She’d been my cheerleader and my rock. She’d helped me close out the shadows of my past and welcome the light of my present and future. I’d never fully confided in her or in anyone, but somehow they knew. Somehow those closest to me knew exactly what I’d needed.

And now I didn’t know where Chelsea was. She needed me and I couldn’t help her.

“Charli?”

I turned my attention toward the deep velvet voice. Nox’s timbre rumbled through the darkened room, its tenor beckoning as his voice overflowed with concern. As he came into focus, his handsome face contorted with uncertainty. His brow furrowed and chiseled jaw clenched. The vein in his neck jumped to life, throbbing with his increased pulse.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, reaching up to touch his cheek.

He lifted my shoulders, securing them in his strong hands as he pulled me to a sitting position and held me against his chest. “Princess, I’m sorry.”

The haze of sleep left me disoriented and unsure.

Why is he sorry?

“Nox?” It was the only word I could mutter as my cheek smashed against his suit coat and he held me tighter. His cologne filled my senses. Beneath the soft material of his jacket, his hard chest cradled me while his erratic heartbeat troubled me.

“I shouldn’t have left you here alone,” he said, “not after last time.”

I tried to move my head from side to side. “No, it’s not… I’m fine. What’s upset you?”

“You,” Nox replied. “I’m worried about you. Why are you crying?”

My fingers found their way to my face as I pulled away from his embrace. He was right. I hadn’t realized I’d been crying, but my cheeks were wet. I blinked my swollen lids and wiped away the evidence.

“I’m fine. I think I fell asleep.”

Now at arm’s length, Nox’s pale blue eyes scanned my features, seeing not only me, but inside of me. Even in the sparse illumination that spilled like golden liquid from the hallway, I saw the navy swirls as he assessed my words and my expression.

“I would’ve been home sooner,” Nox explained, “but just as I was about to leave the office, I got a phone call that I needed to take. I should’ve called you when it was done.”

Still shaking my head, I replied, “Stop, I’m fine. I’m not that fragile.”

“Then tell me what happened.”

I reached for his hand, still holding my shoulder, turned and lifted his palm to my lips. Giving it a kiss I held it near my cheek and smiled. “I think everything is catching up with me.”

As I was about to lace our fingers together, Nox’s gaze went to the bed and then to my phone atop it. He dropped my hand, reached for it, and swiped the screen.

Last call: JANE

Nox’s eyes moved from the screen to mine. “Tell me who she is and why her call upset you? Does this have anything to do with Chelsea?”

Though his request was more of a demand, I didn’t answer; instead, I shrugged. “I’m worried about her. I’ve tried to call Chelsea, but her phone is off.”

“Did this Jane person tell you something?”