Blazed

chapter Fourteen





MY LEGS SHOOK like leaves as I tentatively approached what appeared to be a far too friendly conversation. Henry talked animatedly while Blaze rocked back on his heels to laugh at the right moments— a silky warm caress of a laugh I could hear over the music and the hundreds of voices around us. Nobody would doubt that they were familiar, probably trading boyish jibes and quips.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I got closer, making me feel sick and dizzy. Somehow, their voices echoed over everything too.

"No, New York sorely needs someone to go out and throw their weight around at The Seymour. I just don't have the time to go myself and Tallulah is a halfwit."

"Is your youngest still refusing to partake in the family business?"

"Blaze, my boy— I would do anything to get my little ball-buster in and Tally out. I still maintain that you'd get on like a house on fire. You could be good for her."

"Sorry, old chap. I've very recently acquired a ball-buster of my own."

Blaze looked in my direction the same moment my step faltered— he muttered something to Henry and they laughed. "Henry," he beamed and reached out to curl an arm around my waist when I was close enough, "this is my very significant other." Politely, I offered my hand and kept my eyes fixed down. The minute he saw them, he'd know. They're were too much like my mother's; too keen and all-seeing. They told my story with a single blink.

"Miss White, yes?" I nodded. "Not very talkative, are you?"

"She's here under sufferance. I've just brought her to show her off."

"At a masquerade party? Daft sod."

They went on with their conversation like I wasn't even there. I was horrified to find out that Blaze knew Henry. Well. Our mothers had been close before money stole the soul from our family and the only reason we hadn't met before was because Blaze was older than me. While I was sneaking vodka from the liquor cabinet and binging on tea cakes, he was behind the scenes with the adults, dazzling them with his fierce intelligence.

The men talked more about the business troubles in New York; the staff over there were becoming apathetic as their creative minds began to dry up and too much money was being pooled into morale boosting incentive schemes. Not that money and a lack of it was ever a real issue for Henry. I could identify his mistakes just from witnessing that single conversation, though I'd never tell him as such. I wouldn't help him manipulate people.

The only time I was engaged in the conversation was when Henry asked to see my ring and I surrendered it silently without argument. "Beautiful, just beautiful. Like the young lady hiding beneath that mask, I suspect." He released my hand and thumped Blaze on the shoulder. "I've taken up enough of your evening. Show the lady how real men dance."

I could barely believe I'd escaped undetected.

Blaze led me out onto the area of the auditorium directly in front of the stage which had been designated as a dance floor, and wrapped himself around me like a cloak. My rising intoxication levels made it an experience of sensory overload— seeing, hearing, smelling, feeling, and if he kissed me, taste him. He did, and it was only the fact of feeling Henry's eyes on me that stopped me getting indecent.

Blaze moved with his usual grace and refinement, swaying me to Glory Box, a song I'd listened to a lot in the four days I thought he was gone for good. His cheek rested against my head while we moved and the lyrics hummed in his chest. For a moment, I forgot we were surrounded by people. If we'd been stood there naked I wouldn't have cared. I was the calmest I'd felt in years. Maybe ever.

"Are you bored? You're very quiet. You could have spoken to Henry, he's not all that bad."

Nestling into him, I ran my hands up to the lapels of his blazer, feeling the ridges of muscle underneath the fabric. He'd toned up since we'd met, no doubt from the way he'd picked me up and carried me around so much. "What was I supposed to say to him? Tell him that he should stop frittering money away on new property and ventures and focus on what he already has? That throwing money at a problem doesn't make it go away and comfort can't be bought? His employees are flailing through lack of leadership, not lack of inspiration." I lifted my head to look at Blaze's arched brow. "What? I'm not as stupid as I look. That 'dumb blonde' stereotype is only fifty percent accurate."

"You've done a survey of blondes?"

"No, you're either a dumb blonde or you're not. Fifty-fifty." I rolled my eyes as I watched the logic click into place and rested my face over his heart, enjoying feeling it thrum beneath me. Even in that highly charged nightmare environment, I felt unruffled and comfortable, even if the stupid mask was digging into my face.

I closed my eyes and we danced for what felt like an eternity. Fantasies of living this peacefully with him forever unfolded in my imagination along with plans I'd never admit to making out loud. I wondered how our life together would work around his job, if I'd meet the woman he looked after and if I'd end up looking after her too. It was always going to be complicated between us, but that wouldn't stop me committing myself to a life in the firestorm. That much was sealed the moment we fell for each other in that dressing room and I wouldn't let myself regret it any more than I regretted falling in love with Hunter. Both of them were bad for me but gave my life meaning and drive.

Blaze hummed along to the five songs we danced to, occasionally checking I was still awake when I sank into him a little more, hoping we might meld together. But our little bubble burst with an interruption during the opening strains of Don't Know Why.

"Might I cut in?" From the voice, I expected to see Cornelia when I turned around. The full-faced pillar-box red mask told me otherwise. "It's me, lover!"

"Oh, Esme!" I should have guessed from the thick crest of red hair and the fact she was the only one completely covering her face. She valued her privacy so much that over the top functions like these were the only ones she'd come to. The public could get no hint at her face and the press always found a way in somehow. She was many things, but she was not foolhardy.

"You look amazing!" Her eyes glowed behind the mask. "Mind if I pull her away, Blaze?"

"Only if you bring her back quickly," he brushed his hands across my shoulders and down my arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps where he'd touched, "as she is mine now."

"Oh!" Esme grabbed at my hand and sighed dramatically. "Oh thank god. You accepted it. Chris was adamant you'd be on the first plane to Aruba or somewhere equally as obscure." Knew it. It was a comfort to have the suspicion that they'd all known the whole time confirmed. Glancing up at Blaze, she nodded to herself and tugged me towards her. "Don't worry, we'll be right back. I just want to gossip real quick."

Before he gave her permission, we were off across the auditorium and out into the foyer in the direction of the ladies room. We got a good helping of polite nods and hello's from people who knew me only as the lucky woman who'd pinned down Blaze, and somehow that was more of a bragging point than being a Tudor.

The bathroom was empty when we walked in, every black doored cubicle empty in the burgundy tiled room. Esme ducked into the cubicle furthest from the door and pulled me in with her. Unfazed by company, she went about her business as normal.

"So how did he get you to accept it? He can't have dropped to one knee and said the M word."

I stammered, amazed that she'd jumped on the subject with no preamble. "He called it a promise. To his benefit, he was lying there in nothing but his underwear."

"Ohh..." she chuckled quietly, "the old tag 'em and shag 'em tactic. Works well with you."

"Gee, thanks."

"You know he really thinks he's going to marry you, right?"

Temporarily stunned, my gaze dropped down to the emerald on my finger. Marriage. Jesus. It didn't really register that we were heading in that direction until the word was said out loud. I'd said the words but it hadn't really sunk in. It was a hell of a long way to come in such a short time and a hell of a long way to go. But I loved how it implied some much needed solidarity in my life and, for once, some good luck.

"Yes. And I really think I'm going to marry him, Esme." Even though her face was covered, I knew she was grinning like a maniac. Somehow, I don't think anyone had ever expected me to grow enough as a person to reach this kind of point of adulthood. Seeing it happened may have been one of those monumental moments that restored some faith in the romantic notion of happy endings.

"I've seen your mother, by the way. I explained the whole Blaze situation and she's not going to blow your cover. There's a whisper that Hunter's mother is here though." I winced and made a mental note to keep Blaze out of her war path. I'd already identified the masks which hid the faces of the people she'd most likely stay close to. "Are you not tempted to talk to her and flash your new sparkle at her so it gets back to Hunter?"

"What?" I scoffed. "No. I'm not going to have some kind of caveman pissing match with him to be named alpha. 'Ug, me Hunter, you Emmeline, me pee-pee make whizz higher'. It wouldn't be fair to make him embarrass himself when I'd obviously win anyway."

"God, you crack me up." We battled to straighten out the many netted layers fanning from the waist line of Esme's knee-high ball gown in the same shade of red as her mask and giggled like fools while we shuffled around to escape the cramped cubicle. "Just promise me I get to be your maid of honour."

"Of course. Who else would do it? My stupid sister?"

A sister whose face was the first I saw when I stumbled out through the door into a less than vacant bathroom. Five women had congregated while we'd been talking and had all removed their masks to fix their makeup. I was grateful to only recognise one of them.

Our eyes met for a split second in the mirror before Esme made a sweeping bow behind me and proclaimed, "Ladies." On the next beat, we were scurrying back out through the foyer in fits of hushed laughter that earned us a few dozen curious looks. "Do you think she knew it was you?"

"Maybe. Can't be sure if she got a good look at my eyes." I flapped a hand dismissively. "Don't really care. She knows she'd be lucky to get an invite, let alone an ugly bridesmaid dress." There was no guarantee I'd ever find anything to look good on her. Tallulah had the same ruddy complexion as Henry, lifeless brown eyes and a mess of auburn hair. It was almost impossible to believe that we came from the same parents— even I wouldn't believe it myself if we didn't all, by some strange coincidence, have the same rare blood type, even Ivy.

The mixer was in full swing by the time we spotted Blaze chatting to a group of people he obviously knew very well. Their mutual body language was very open and friendly, innocuous little touches on each others hands and arms I might have gotten funny about if the women around him hadn't all been obviously middle-aged. I could sense them all hoping to marry off their daughters to him, as much as I could sense his refusal in return.

One of the women in particular was most animated, hair pulled back into a deceptively severe bun that didn't at all match the vibrantly coloured silk maxi-dress she wore. Jewels glittered around her throat and wrists, and the light kept catching an engagement ring that put mine to shame— onyx and sapphire encircling a massive diamond embedded in platinum, with a wedding band to match. It was a sign of good taste and a hefty bank account. The sign of a woman on her fifth rich husband. The sign of Helen Rosen.

"Oh crap," I groaned, "that's Hunter's mother."

"The one with all the bling?"

"The one and only."

"Jeez." Esme shook her head and pulled me to the bar before Blaze had chance to call me over. I'd been lucky to so far escape unscathed, but Helen's eye was too sharp. She'd have minute details like the shape of my jaw, length of my fingers and stride of my step memorised. It was a safe bet that she knew the face behind every single mask. "Looking at her, you can sort of understand why Hunter came out so self-centred. Women dripping in sparkle are just screaming 'love me, love me, oh please, why won't you love me?'" I snorted a laugh, knowing that Helen Rosen made it her life mission to be on everyone's Christmas card list. That family were nothing if not adored though strangely not the most outwardly sociable beyond functions. Funny that.

Every time I checked over my shoulder, Blaze was still engrossed in conversation with Helen. Her hand would clasp to her chest when she laughed, and then stroke down his arm. Even with her face covered, I knew that she'd be fluttering her lashes too, having witnessed the same disgusting display of peacocking many times before. Knowing that she only had sons gave me enough comfort to send Blaze over teasing looks and pouts when he looked to me for help.

"Think I should go and save him for you?" Esme taunted him with a wave he returned stiffly. "He looks like he's suffered enough."

"Actually, I think I'd like to talk to my mum while it's safe. Where is she?"

"Twenty-two years," muttered the woman next to me, "and she still doesn't recognise her own mother."

Honestly, I had no chance in hell of realising it was her. Ivy's hair was pinned up like a bride and her dress a sassy V cut halter neck with no back to speak of. The knee-high slits made it daringly youthful and the vivid cerise fabric of the dress-mask ensemble had made me put her in her twenties at first glance. I might have even thought she was younger from me. So much for modest and demure.

"Mum! You look so..." Young was not the way to go. It would somehow be twisted to imply that I thought she looked old to start with. I'd been taught better than to use age-related adjectives in my compliments. So I went with "you look hot."

"Oh well," she giggled, smoothing down a non-existent stray strand of hair, "I didn't even try, really." Bullshit. She had that day-spa look about her, which meant she'd been primping for at least a good twelve hours before they arrived and had the full arsenal of beauticians at hand. For a masquerade mixer. Go figure. "That dress is lovely, sweetheart. You look very sophisticated."

"Blaze picked it out for me."

"Ah," Ivy nodded serenely and looked over my shoulder in his direction, "I'm so glad you two made up. You both deserve some joy in your lives. Esme, be a love and fetch him for me would you, I want to see them together."

"Oh god, no." She wanted to look for the perfect match in us, something she could do with laser precision. Any couple she disagreed with never lasted long enough to prove her wrong and those who got the nod lived in blissful matrimony. I didn't want the death sentence in either case out in public. "Please don't embarrass me."

"Oh nonsense," she scoffed, "I've known him as long as I've known you. Longer. Blaze, darling!" A warm arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back against my six foot three inch miracle. The hot rush of satisfaction I felt for being reunited with him after the short separation was instant and powerful. Nobody around could miss that I was crazy about him.

"Ivy." Blaze kissed the back of the hand she offered before he kissed the crown of my head and rested his chin the same spot. "You look wonderful. And you appear to have met the only other woman in the room who comes close enough to compare." Oh, he was good.

"I have indeed, young man. Let me look at you both without those silly masks." I watched her eyes track around the room for Henry before she gave a secret nod of reassurance. Blaze pulled the ends of the ribbon securing my mask and smiled down at me as it slowly fell away— a sexy half smile that made me melt. It didn't seem possible that I'd feel my pulse jump when he took off his own mask, that it would be like seeing him again for the first time. Something in his grand gesture and slipshod proposal had unleashed something in me and stripped away any lingering reservations. I was no longer afraid to admit to myself that I needed him too much and was stupidly in love with him.

"Oh yes," Ivy gushed next to us, clasping her hands to her mouth, "yes, you're perfect together. I'll be on tenterhooks waiting for news of your engagement." Esme caught my eye and shrugged, silently admitting that she hadn't felt it was her place to impart such news. I was sort of grateful for that.

Blaze took my left hand in his and dipped to plant a quick kiss on my lips. "Actually Ivy, I concreted my intentions to keep the lovely Emmeline just this afternoon."

"Oh!" My mother whimpered, fingers flexing with the motherly urge to gather me up and cover me in reverent kisses. In many ways, I was her greatest achievement and most prized possession, but the day she could pass me on to a man who would treat me like the princess she believed I was would always be, to her, a moment almost as precious as my birth. She too wanted stability for me after my rocky adolescence, something I think she always felt partially to blame for.

So she compromised on her exuberance and took my hand instead. "Beautiful, simply beautiful. Like the lady herself." I could tell that she appreciated the modesty of the ring as much as I did. "Masks back on, my loves! We must celebrate!"





SUN POURED IN through the window and woke me with an emetic surge that had me scrambling for the toilet I was conveniently lying next to. Not one I recognised, but that didn't really matter until I'd stopped spluttering into it's bowl. A naked body wrapped around me and pulled my hair out of harms way, spreading kisses across my shoulders despite the fact I was hacking disgracefully just inches away. That was when I realised that I was naked too, and both of us were covered only by a bed sheet.

"I don't think this is what I envisioned when I imagined our first morning together." Blaze chuckled softly and turned me around to wipe my face with a flannel. He looked like he'd been ravaged mercilessly, boasting an impressive collection of scratches and bite marks, and even a few bruises. "I'm guessing we had some crazy pre-maritals?"

"Oh yeah." Grinning, he tilted his chin up to show me a few impressive love bites. "The craziest."

I smirked and rubbed my eyes. "Where the hell are we?"

"At the hotel across the street from The Roses. Ivy Tudor got you and Esme paralytic on champagne, you made some fairly indiscreet demands of my body, and then you started looking kind of green. It was safer for Henry's limo to bring you here."

"Oh." I blushed, remembering how many times I'd been sick in that limo before and how long it had taken to get the smell out. "Esme?"

"Face down snoring on the couch outside."

"Okay..." I looked shyly down at my hands, fiddling with the emerald that I apparently hadn't dreamed. It was really there and it really meant that the devilishly handsome man eyeing up my exposed chest was mine. "You know, if you found me a toothbrush or some mouthwash, we could go back in that room and do this morning properly."

"I'm on it."



I wasn't allowed to sleep after Blaze capably screwed me until I begged him to stop. Instead he enticed me down to the hotel's dining room with the promise of coffee and canoodling in the lift. The genial old couples forced to share the car with us watched us kiss and tickle from the corners of their eyes, smiling secret smiles full of 'ah, young love' admiration and 'remember when we used to be that?' snipes directed at their companions.

Something about Blaze had changed too. He was still too beautiful, of course— even sporting his morning stubble, just-f*cked hair, last nights suit and the evidence of my carnality, he still made me look downright homely in my crumpled dress. He might have even looked better for showing that he was human. But he exuded some kind of euphoric triumph like snagging me was really something to boast about. I suppose it might have been. We had both succeeded with each other where many others had failed. Both of us refused to get tied down but were now tied to each other. In a strange way, we couldn't have been more perfect together.

I didn't know the name of the hotel but it had Henry's hoof-prints all over it. The room we'd woken up in had been no less than a suite. The bedroom was excessively large, the enormous wooden, queen-sized four-poster bed decorated in rich blue and purple linens and throw cushions. That stemmed off into a private sitting room full of couches that looked no less impressive for housing a thoroughly unconscious Esme. Although the underlying palate was very stark, you could almost taste the expense injected into the room by the bold splashes of colour in the furnishings and the top range electronics tucked away in the blackened glass cabinets lining the walls.

It would probably have taken a year for me to save up for one night in that kind of suite on bookshop wages and I would have felt awkward about touching anything. Just another little thing that made me so different from my family; extravagance that came at a high cost made me uncomfortable. Presumably, that was why Blaze hadn't shoved his money in my face and gone for a platinum engagement ring with bigger stones. What he'd given me was modest enough for me to pretend it had cost less than it probably did but still brag about the size of the emerald. I loved that he understood my quirks so well.

The reception area of the hotel was equally as intimidating as the suite. The front desk reminded me of a judge's bench minus the gavel, and the finely preened staff who manned the phones there looked equally as judgemental. Thankfully we bypassed that area completely and head straight into a dining room with wooden floors so buffed you could see your face in them.

"So what do you hunger for, Miss White?" Blaze swayed into me playfully when I raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Something that doesn't involve one or both of us making sex noise."

"But where's the fun in that? I'm actually jonesing for black coffee and scrambled eggs."

"After the pounding you just got, are they not already scrambled?" I gaped up at him in disbelief and snatched a menu off a table as we passed. I loved playful Blaze as much as I loved horny Blaze and serious Blaze. It just still shocked me when he said anything vulgar because it didn't seem like something someone so gorgeous was capable of.

"Look, see. Scrambled eggs on toast. Perfect. If I eat real quickly, we can get back up to that big ol' bed before check out time and you can bash my head against the headboard a few more times."

"Okay!" Blaze swung his hand back and slapped me hard on the backside, making me yelp. "Chop chop, vixen. I have plans for us this afternoon."

"Oh?"

"Not those plans. God, woman. You'll kill me before the honeymoon."

I turned away with a blush. In the cold light of day with no alcohol addling my brain, marital buzz words seemed so foreign and terrifying. I was happy to partake in the bravado, but I was definitely not at the point of shopping for a wedding dress.

"So you know, I'm really in no rush to—"

"Me either." Not even pretending to not look relieved, I stepped right up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. Thank god. We were on the same page, and that meant no nasty surprises for either of us. "I'm still not done terrorising you. It's been less than a day, there's no need to rush it all now when we have all the time in the world."

If I was any other woman, I might have worried about the sudden reluctance to start talking flower arrangements, but I was too grateful for the lack of pressure and distracted by the sigh of Esme limping towards us looking horrendous. Everyone suffered when Ivy Tudor spent a night pouring their drinks, and Esme definitely looked to be suffering from the mother of all hangovers.

"Breakfast?"

She groaned and raised a hand to me, rubbing at her stomach with the other. "God no. Bloody Mary, please, and don't skimp on the 'bloody'. I'll be sitting outside seeing if I sparkle in sunlight because, honestly, I feel like I've been dead for a thousand years."

Blaze and I made our orders for breakfast and fooled around like we had in the lift while we waited for our coffee. 'Happy' wasn't a word I could apply to my life often, but that morning, I could. It was short-lived.

We carelessly stormed through the glass doors, attached by the mouth, out onto the terracotta tiled terrace leading out into the hotel's small but luxurious garden. Only Blaze's fast reaction's saved our coffee from spilling when I froze solid, eyes wide.

"Emmeline?" I opened my mouth and croaked, stepping back from Blaze like I'd been caught in the middle of something heinous.

Henry, Ivy and Tallulah Tudor stared at me from a round white table looking almost as shocked as I did. Esme gave me her best 'caught with my pants down' look and inched down a little in her chair. Like us, my family were in the same clothes they'd worn for the mixer, which meant they'd stayed in the hotel too. Of course. Ivy would have had us put in one of the nicest suites and insisted that we didn't pay.

"Oh, um... hello."

"Henry," Blaze took my coffee from my hand and ushered me over to the table calmly, "you know of my best girl?"

"I should say so," Esme, Ivy and I winced pre-emptively, "as your best girl is also my best girl."

The noise that came out of my mouth was the strangest I'd ever heard. It was half strangled laugh coupled with a dry heave and a definite sob. When I swayed on my feet, Blaze pulled me back into the dining room by the elbow so he could plant me down into a chair.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me Henry and Ivy are your parents?" Shit. I knew he'd be angry.

"You didn't ask?" His eyes narrowed to slits and made me squirm. "You know enough about my family to know that I'm not an active member. If it doesn't matter to me, it shouldn't matter to you."

It felt like we'd glared at each other for an eternity when he said, "you're right," and pulled me back to my feet. Taking advantage of my stunned silence, he pulled me into a deep, lush kiss and gave me a 'f*cklust' stare of his own. "So if you don't mind, I'm going to go and find out if you come with a dowry."

"What? Hey!" With a laugh and easy grace, Blaze took our breakfasts from an oncoming waiter and paced back out onto the terrace, setting my plate down at the table between Esme and Ivy before I could argue.

"Henry, old boy. I believe it's customary for me to seek your blessing. Let's take a walk."

Dumbstruck, we watched the manly backslapping and negotiations head down the garden to a trellis that reminded me of the screens at the restaurant for our first date.

Esme broke the silence. "That went rather well."

"It did somewhat." Confused, I wilted into my seat and stabbed at the scrambled eggs I didn't really want anymore. "I guess we don't have any more secrets left." And yet, I felt uneasy and mithered. All of our revelations had been too easily handled and drama free. There had to be some fallout somewhere. My anxiety was not helped by Tallulah snorting across the table at me before she lifted a magazine to cover her smirk. "Problem, Tally?"

"Oh no, I'm just imagining how awkward your wedding ceremony is going to be when his wife turns up."

I dropped my fork with a loud clatter. "Come again?"

"Wife. The thing you're not allowed two of in this society."

Ivy laid her hand over my bunched up fist and admonished her eldest daughter with a sigh. "Don't be rotten, Tally. I didn't bring you up to tell ugly lies."

"I'm not lying." Tallulah turned the page of her magazine without looking up, face trained into a smug but unsmiling, contemptuous expression. "He left his band to look after her when she got ill. They did the ceremony privately and didn't intend on telling anyone. I just happen to be privy to the information is all. Can't see her being awfully happy about moving you in though, Emmy. Not enough space in the marital bed for three."



THE feelings that collided inside me in the following seconds ranged in extremes— vehement disbelief and a will to defend the accusation melded with ambivalent disappointment, apoplectic rage, and a strange kind of pensive tranquillity like I'd known all along. Not one of them showed on my face when I pushed to my feet and turned my head fractionally towards Esme.

"We're leaving."

"You should talk to him about this." Yes, I should have. But it all made too much sense. He seemed too perfect but talked about being damaged, so logically he had to have something this twisted working against him. When life posed an obstacle that threatened my mentality, I had no choice but to walk away from it. I left Hunter behind in Cardiff. I could leave Blaze behind in this hotel.

"We've been talking for months, Esme. He had his chance to tell me himself."

Ivy stood and looked out across the garden. I could see in her eyes that she was somehow trying to twist the situation around to not be so grim. She'd never been wrong about a couple's compatibility before and she'd be damned if her first failure would be the one that would hurt us all the most. "Would it have made any difference if he'd told you himself? It may not be as simple as you think."

"Yes, it would have. I would never have gotten this involved if I'd known. Ah god!" I shoved my hands into my hair and tugged hard. I was this close to snapping but for my mother's sake, I had to keep it together. Esme stared vacantly down at her Bloody Mary and I knew it was because she was mentally planning out how to have someone with me at all times so I'd neither fall into old destructive habits or be left open to be stupid and call Blaze. Saving me from myself was all par for the course in her world, but it was something I'd hoped to avoid putting her through again.

Tallulah tossed her magazine down on the table and reached over it to pick at my abandoned breakfast. It reminded me of being fourteen again, when I really got trapped in my eating disorder. She'd quaff my leftovers and loved it, and had the fat arse to show for it. "He doesn't deserve you if he's a liar, sis. It's really not enough just to love you more." I scowled at her disingenuous pout and pulled my plate out of her reach. I was grateful that she'd told me the truth but the motive was written all over her face and dripping from her voice. This was no mercy mission by a loving sister who'd seen her younger sibling suffer enough already, it was spite-charged vengeance for the fact I was smarter, prettier and loved more than she was— finite jealously over my happiness.

"Don't think I'll forget this, Tallulah."

And with that, I turned on my heels and walked out of that hotel with Esme and Ivy close behind. I climbed into the Mercedes I hated and let Oscar drive us back to my flat, said my goodbye's to my mother and trusted that she wouldn't make it easy for Blaze to talk to me. Esme called the guys and we sat in my flat drinking whiskey, devising plans to keep me attached to my sanity.

Not once did I let the tears out. There was no regret from walking away. I kept it all locked away and pretended it wasn't there. I just wish I'd been a fly on the wall when he found his ring squashed into my scrambled eggs.