When I stand up, Donovan mumbles something under his breath, and it takes one glare from me for his jaw to snap shut. Donovan’s a big guy—stands six-two, a rock of solid muscle. Most guys would be intimidated by him. But I’m not. I’m bigger.
Cool air hits me as I step outside. That anger boils under my skin again, and it would take the smallest match for this inferno to be let loose.
I sit down on the curb and open my Photos app, scrolling upward until soft blonde hair starts to fill the screen.
I click on the first pic I see of her. She’s lying on my bed with the biggest smile stretched across her face. The kind of smile that could end wars. Her beautiful blue-gray eyes are barely peeking through the small slants of her squinted eyes.
So happy, so full of love, so fake.
My chest clenches when I think about the fact that she was dealing with her rape when we were together. And I couldn’t even tell. Either she’s one hell of a liar or I’m just ridiculously blind when it comes to her. Or maybe both.
My Uber pulls up next to me, and I shove my phone back in my pocket. Settling into the seat, I can’t get her out of my head.
Two days till I see that damn smile again. I know she’s been running the Chambers empire since her dad died. As hard as I try, I find myself on her Instagram multiple times a day. Two days till I have to hold myself back from taking her face in my hands and claiming those sweet lips with my own.
But it’s never that simple with us. No matter how we start, we always end at each other’s throat.
Even if she never wants me to touch her, or kiss her, or love her again, there’s only one woman in this world who owns me with a look, and her name is Becca Chambers.
TWO
Becca
Knock, knock.
Sighing, I tell the person knocking on my door, “Come in.”
The office door swings open, and Jamie walks in, arms full of binders. “Okay, I need decor approvals, budget sign-offs, hiring approvals, your signature on these documents. Oh, and your one and one thirty interviews are here.”
This has been my life since my dad died—nonstop paperwork. The empire of The Chambers Hotels fell into my lap, per my dad’s will, and now, it’s my job to keep the multimillion-dollar business afloat.
Jamie was my dad’s assistant. She’s the only reason I have a sliver of sanity left. Jamie was practically running the show while I was dealing with my dad’s death. The pain that runs under my skin is excruciating. It wasn’t even six months after my mom lost the battle to breast cancer that he was gone too. And now, I have to somehow figure out how to deal withthatpain andthispain.
When my mom died, I honestly didn’t think the agony could get any worse. Then, I came home one day, wanting to see him and mend things after our fight—the first one in a long time.
But I couldn’t tell him.
I’d never be able to tell him about my day again.
His office door was shut, and when I opened it, I saw something, a scene, an image that would be burned into my eyes.
He didn’t move. He didn’t hear my yells, my screams, or when I shattered every piece of glass in the house.
He was dead.
Loneliness was something I had felt when my friends hung out without me. It was something I had felt when a boy chose a different girl over me. But emptiness was what I felt that day. I had no purpose, no drive, no reason to not just drop my own headstone next to theirs.
My heart still beats, but there is no heart there, just a hole in my chest where one should be. I might as well have died that day with him.
But I can’t. I won’t take that same path. I will live for him because he couldn’t live for himself.
White-hot tingles pulse across my chest, and I turn to my office window and place my hand on the cool glass, grounding myself.
Running these hotels—forty-six of them across the United States—is my life now. We are the number one–ranked hotel in the country. Bookings have to be made almost a year out to even stand a chance at getting a reservation.
My parents made this a success, and I will maintain their legacy.
But I can’t do it on my own. I need help. Someone to keep me on track with to-do lists and schedules—a personal assistant. Hence the two interviews I am conducting in the next hour.
