“What in the actual fuck…?”
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Lottie Cassidy stared in disbelief at the anonymous email filling the screen of her laptop, a cocktail of confusion, horror and simmering fury filling her belly with lead and causing a cold sweat to sweep over her skin.
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And then she opened the attachments.
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Just as the email had warned, several photographs of her boyfriend screwing other women appeared, time-stamped and dated. The lead in her belly solidified, the weight of it threatening to crush her.
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They’d celebrated their one year anniversary less than a month earlier, and yet there she sat staring at photos of Nate Bellows balls deep in a woman that wasn’t her. Two days ago. While he was out of state.
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“Good morning, my little goddess.”
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Nate appeared in the doorway of her bedroom, his sleep-ruffled hair, five o’clock shadow and lopsided grin giving him that rakish look she adored. He had arrived on her doorstep at ten o’clock the night before, looking travel worn and tired after his trip, but not that tired, he had assured her as he’d guided her into the shower and banged her against the wall in a passionate quickie, then folded her in his arms as they had crawled into bed.
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Now she stared at him over the rim of her computer, a rush of anger making her whole body tremble as she watched him go about his daily morning rituals, as if it was just another day. As if he were a faithful and loving partner, and not a lying, cheating arsehole.
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“Are you hungry?” Nate called over his shoulder.
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Lottie forced herself to answer, to maintain her calm demeanour as her brain fought to understand what the hell was going on. “No. I’ve lost my appetite.”
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Putting down the bacon and eggs he’d pulled from the fridge, he gave her his full attention. “Hey, are you okay?”
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Staring at him, at the openess of his posture and the worry etched into his expression, made her breath catch in her lungs and bile swirl in her gut. He looked so sincere, so concerned for her wellbeing. But how could he be? How could he stand there and pretend so artfully to care for her when she’d seen the evidence that it was all a lie?
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Her gaze flicked back to her laptop, to the cornucopia of pornographic images splashed across the screen, and that lump of lead in her belly reformed into something sharp and pointed, something dangerous. The sensation caused her to sit very still and rigid, as if one wrong move would pierce her flesh and cut her to shreds.
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“I’m fine,” she said, offering him a serene smile as she held his gaze, then picked up her phone and called Luke Hardcastle, CEO of Hardcastle Construction and overprotective big brother extraordinaire. The second her brother answered she said, “Fire up the cement truck.”
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“Fuck. I’m on my way.”
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At the reminder of her brother’s thinly veiled threat to make Nate disappear should he ever dare to hurt her, the concern fell from his face. In its place formed a mask of deadly calm, but under that mask she saw the colour drain away, leaving his perfectly tanned complection looking pallid and weak.
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Holding his gaze, she spun her computer around and let him see the fuck-a-thon she’d been subjected to. His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowed and his face reddened so damn fast that if he’d been a cartoon character, she would have sworn the top of his head would have blown off and steam would have shot out his ears.
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“Where did you get those?” His voice was so low she barely heard him. The growly masculine baritone she’d come to love, that just last night had made her knees weak and her pussy wet, now made her nauseous.
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“It doesn’t matter where they came from,” she said, her rage springing her from her seat so fast she knocked it over backwards. “Your reaction to them was all I needed to see to know they are real.” She shook her head and tried to ignore the prickle of tears threatening to fall, threatening to expose her as weak and emotional.
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She would not cry in front of him. She would not give him the satisfaction of watching her heart break.
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“Lottie, baby, it’s not what you think.”
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A small disbelieving laugh escaped her. “Not what I think?” She leaned over the laptop screen and pointed to a photograph of Nate and some random woman doing it doggy-style. “So this is you, what…? Helping her find her keys?” She pointed to another photo, another woman. Reverse cowgirl. “What about this one? Pilates?” She made herself look again and nodded. “Definitely Pilates.”
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“Lottie—”
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“Oh, this one is my favourite,” she said, cutting him off and pointing to a photo of a blonde woman licking what appeared to be whipped cream off his dick. “What’s going on here, Nate? Feeding the homeless?”
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Nate folded his arms across his chest and ran his tongue over his teeth in a show of annoyance. “Okay, now you’re just being childish.”
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“Get out.”
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“No.”
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“Get. Out,” she said again, this time through gritted teeth. “Now.”
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“Not until we talk about this.”
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“We have nothing to talk about. You cheated on me.” She slapped her palm against the laptop screen, the evidence there for all to see. “Repeatedly. With multiple women.”
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“Lottie, I swear to you—”
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Straightening to her full height, she anchored her hands to her hips. “How long has this been going on?” she demanded, then another more horrifying thought struck her. “Did you use protection with these women?”
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Lottie was a cancer survivor, immunocompromised. She couldn’t afford to get some random infection from some random side-chick her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—hooked up with. But when his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed, she had the answers she needed. “You need to leave.”
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Before her eyes, Nate’s whole demeanour changed. His jaw and shoulders relaxed, he closed his eyes and sighed. “Don’t do this,” he whispered, opening his eyes again and staring at her like she was his world.
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But she wasn’t fooled. Not anymore. “I’m not doing anything,” she said. “You did this, not me. I will not be blamed for your shitty behaviour.”
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“And what shitty behaviour is that, exactly?”
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Lottie turned at the sound of her brother’s dark voice. The upside to living in the same building as him was that he could be at her door in five minutes flat. Which was useful when the man who’d cheated on her was refusing to leave her apartment.
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“How the hell did you get in?” Nate snarled.
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Luke held up the spare door key, dangling from his finger. “Now, why doesn’t someone tell me why I had to use it.”
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Nate folded his arms over his chest again and lifted his chin. “This is a private matter between me and your sister. It’s none of your business.”
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Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Lottie?” He turned to face her, and she in turn spun the laptop screen in his direction.
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Her brother didn’t lose his temper often, but when he did, it was spectacular, so she was surprised to see him step quietly towards the table and pick up the computer, stare at the images filling the screen for a minute then softly shut the lid and put it down again.
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“Lottie, would you please pack up Nate’s things,” he said, his demeanour calm, almost mellow. Fatherhood had softened him. “I need to have a word with your ex.”
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“Ex?” Nate scoffed. “Isn’t that for Lottie to decide?”
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“She did decide,” Luke said, straightening to his full six feet and four inches in height, and folding his arms across his wide chest. “The second she called me.”
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Lottie backed away towards the bedroom. She needed to collect Nate’s stuff—which thankfully wasn’t much—but she didn’t want to miss whatever Luke was about to do to him. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to call on her big brother’s intimidation tactics. Tactics she’d hoped would never be needed where Nate was concerned.
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He was supposed to be different.
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He was supposed to love her.
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But as she stood there watching him argue with Luke, hearing him admit to the dispicable things he’d done with other women during their so-called relationship, she realised something that sent a chill up her spine and the words were out of her mouth before she could think better of it. Before she could ask herself if she really wanted to know the answer to her heinous question.
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“You only wanted me for my money, didn’t you?”
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She hated the vulnerability in her voice, hated the way her hands shook as she awaited his answer.
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Hated feeling weak.
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Nate’s gaze raked down her body in a way he’d done many times before. Previously, it had made her feel sexy, wanted, alive. Now it made her need a scalding hot shower to wash away the grimy feeling he left on her skin.
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“Not at first. You are, after all, a very beautiful woman.” He paused and took a step closer. Luke moved to intercede but Lottie touched his arm and halted her brother. She wanted to look Nate in the eye for whatever came next. “But you were also lonely, rich, and… dying.”
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“You sonofabitch,” Luke snarled, but before he could take a swing at Nate, Lottie’s fist was flying through the air.
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Pain shot through her arm as her small hand connected with her boyfriend’s jaw. It felt like punching a brick wall. “Ow!” Immediately, she pulled back and cradled her hand to her chest, glaring at the object of her hatred as she did.
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Nate rubbed one side of his jaw, looking more annoyed than hurt. “Really?”
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“Get dressed and get the fuck out of here. Now,” Luke snarled at him, then turned his attention to her busted hand. “Let me see it,” he said, gently inspecting her fingers.
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Nate finally disappeared into the bedroom, resurfacing a few minutes later looking like his usual devastatingly handsome self in jeans and a T-shirt, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He stood by the door, one hand on the knob and stared at her, his gaze hot and full of an emotion she couldn’t quite identify. “Are you sure you want this, Lottie?”
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“Don’t engage,” Luke whispered. “Just let him leave.”
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But she never was one for following orders. “Want what?”
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The unknown emotion in Nate’s gaze solidified in to something she never thought she’d see from him. Pity. “To be all alone again,” he said, the soothing timbre of his voice grating on the last of her nerves.
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Fury shot though her blood like lightning, heating her up until her skin practically glowed with the emotion. “Better to be alone than stuck with a cheating piece of shit like you.”
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He opened the door and shook his head, ran his tongue over his teeth. “You think you’re so smart, Lottie, but you know as well as I do, you’ll never be anything to anyone but a blank cheque and a bony piece of arse.”
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And then he was gone.
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The door slammed shut and she was left alone with her brother and possibly a broken hand.
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“I’m taking you to the emergency room. This needs an x-ray.”
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Lottie nodded, the icy shock of Nate’s parting barbs sinking deep into her heart. “Okay,” she said, her own voice now oddly emotionless. Her anger had died a swift death, suffocated by the numbness that now held her rigid, afraid to move in case her legs collapsed beneath her.
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“Hey.” Luke smiled down at her in that same way he always had. The same indulgent smile he now used on his baby son. “I’m proud of you. You’ve got this. Okay?”
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She nodded again, then lifted her chin and forced herself to smile. Luke was right. She had this. She was Charlotte fucking Cassidy. She was a force to be reckoned with.
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She’d survived cancer, for fuck’s sake. Twice!
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She’d survive this too.
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Even if it killed her.
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The Boss Babe CEO and The Scoundrel coming December 2024