Skye Hawthorne. And Ricky. Skye Hawthorne was sleeping with Ricky.
He’s not my father. I clung to that as Oren and Eli ushered us away from Skye’s suite. Ricky Grambs is not my father. He also wasn’t a “lovely man.” Skye Hawthorne was caviar and champagne, and Ricky was throwing-up- cheap-beer-in-motel-bathrooms. He didn’t have two dimes to rub together. But he did have a claim—however tenuous—to me.
I felt like I was going to be sick. In fact, I could hear Skye saying with a billion-dollar twinkle in her eyes, I’m considering having another child. Was that her plan? Get pregnant with my half-sibling? Not mine. That thought wasn’t as comforting as it should have been, because any child of Ricky’s would be Libby’s half-sibling—and I would do anything for Libby.
“What were you thinking?” Oren snapped when we were sequestered safely in an elevator. “A woman who tried to have you killed is sleeping with a man who stands to inherit if you die—and you ditched your protection detail to put yourself in a room with her.”
I’d never thought of Ricky as one of my heirs, but I was too young for a will. His name was on my birth certificate.
“Why didn’t you know?” I shot back at Oren before I could rein in the storm of emotions churning in my gut. “They’re both on your list, aren’t they? How could you not know that they…” I trailed off, sucking in a breath that I couldn’t bring myself to let out.
“You did know,” Jameson concluded. Oren didn’t deny it. The second the elevator door opened, Jameson pulled me out. “Let’s get out of here, Heiress.”
Eli stepped to block him. Oren broke Jameson’s hold on my arm. I could feel the exact moment when the other people in the lobby noticed us. The moment they recognized me.
“She’s not going anywhere but school,” Oren told Jameson quietly. His
expression looked perfectly pleasant. My head of security knew how not to make a scene.
Jameson crooked his head to look at me. He excelled at making scenes. There was an invitation in his green eyes—and a promise. If I went with him, he’d find a way to make us both forget what had just happened.
I wanted that. But girls like me didn’t always get what we wanted. I looked down. “Jameson.” My voice was quiet. People were staring. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone lift a phone and snap our picture.
“On second thought,” Jameson said grandly, “Oren’s right. Play it safe, Heiress.” The look he gave me then was one I felt through every square inch of my body. “For now.”
