Mr Spencer(79)

“What?”

“Look in the fucking bin. I threw the key in there this morning on my way out of the apartment.” He picks up the bin in the corridor and tips it upside down like a crazy person. The lid flies off, and a lone hotel key card falls out onto the carpet. “Check the security footage from Mr Wong’s in Chinatown, you fucking know it all. I was there until twenty minutes ago.”

With that, he turns and storms back into the apartment, leaving me to stand still as my heart beats hard in my chest.

I close my eyes, instantly full of regret.

Shit.

I walk back inside the apartment to find him marching up the stairs.

I follow him carefully and quietly.

He’s furious, raging like a bull. He storms into the wardrobe and begins throwing his stuff onto the bed like a madman.

I fold my arms over my chest. “What did you expect me to think?” I snap. “I find a key in the morning then I come home and find it’s gone. Then you’ve conveniently had something on all of a sudden and won’t be coming over.”

“While we’re talking about lies… I want to know yours.” He sneers.

I wither. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You are pissing me off, Charlotte Prescott,” he growls. “Get out of my fucking face before I lose my shit.” He storms up the hall, and I find myself running after him.

“What lie?” I cry. “What are you talking about, Spencer?”

“Don’t tell me that you don’t have feelings for the man who took your virginity, because I know you do. It’s fucking eating me alive.”

Huh…?

“Do you really fucking expect me to believe that you wait twenty-five years to lose your virginity, only to give it to someone you don’t care about?”

I roll my eyes.

“I’m not fucking stupid,” he barks, making me jump. “Who is he?”

We stare at each other as we pant, both of us furious. I’m not telling him like this, he’s too angry. He’ll go berserk about me lying to him in the first place.

I go to touch him, but he flicks my hand off his arm. “Don’t fucking touch me, you piss me off.” He storms out. I hear him walk down the hall, and then the spare bedroom door slams shut.

I drag my hands through my hair.

I walk up to the spare bedroom and stand outside the door.

I hear him kick off his shoes, and then I hear something hit the wall. I hear the blankets get thrown back. “Fuck off!” he mutters angrily to himself before something else hits the wall.

I slide down the wall and sit on the floor in the hallway. At least he hasn’t left me.

But what now?





Edward


I run through the profit and loss sheets for Macao, checking the losses myself with a calculator. They’re two percent higher than expected, and I want to find where we are slipping. My father Harold is in his office next to me, going through some refurbishment details with our interior designers.

My phone rings and the name Alexander York lights up the screen.

I smile and answer with, “Yorkie, how are you?”

“Good, good.” He laughs.

Alexander is one of my closest friends. The two of us went to boarding school together and have only gotten closer over the years.

“Why are you calling me at…” I glance at my watch. “5:00 a.m. your time? Did you wet the bed?”

“Ha, very funny. I’ve been contemplating calling you all week. It’s finally got the better of me.”

I frown, suddenly interested. “What’s up?”

“You know how I took Charlotte to the charity ball last Saturday night?”

“Yeah.”

“There was this guy sniffing around her.”

“Who?”

“Spencer Jones.”

I immediately type the name into Google on my laptop.

“Define sniffing,” I urge while I wait.

“Well, that’s the thing: I don’t know anything for certain, but it’s left me feeling uneasy all week, so I thought I’d better let you know.”

A collection of images appear, and I scroll through each of them, reading the first headline.

Bad Romeo Caught with Three Women in the Same Day.





I clench my jaw. “What happened?”

“That’s the thing, they seemed to know each other. They were familiar when talking, and then he was kissing her hand.”

“Kissing her?” I snap and sit forward in my chair. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

“Afraid not. I approached Spencer at the bar when she was out of her earshot and asked him what he was doing with Charlotte Prescott.”

I continue to scroll through the images of him with different women.

“What did he say?”

“He said, and I quote, Whatever the fuck I like.”

I narrow my eyes. “Do you know this guy?”

“Yes, and I fucking hate him. He’s a womanising cad who sleeps with every supermodel in town.”

“Who is he?” I Google his bio.

“He owns a successful steel manufacturing company… does all right for himself.”

“Why do you hate him?”