Stealing Rose (The Fowler Sisters #2)(73)

Violet snatches up her phone as if she doesn’t want me to see it. Leaping out of my chair, I round the desk, trying to make a grab for her phone, and she clutches it close to her chest. “You do not want to see this,” she says, her voice low and full of warning.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I reach for it again. “I do.”

“No. You don’t.”

“Hand it over, Violet.” I hold out my hand, palm up, and she looks at it before she lifts her gaze to mine.

“No.”

I drop my hand and roll my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. Just show it to me!”

Slowly she holds her phone out toward me and I squint, trying to see what it is.

A photo. Of the perfect blond-bobbed Whitney, her lips covered in gloss and puckered against a man’s cheek.

But not just any man’s cheek. My man’s.

Caden.

I snatch the phone out of Violet’s hand and she yells at me but I ignore her. The message below the photo says: Don’t tell your sister I’m sitting on his lap.

I text Whitney a reply, pretending I’m Violet, trying my best to quell the rage rising within me.

What are you doing with him?

“You’re not texting her, are you?” Violet sounds horrified.

Good.

I’m at a little get-together. You and Ryder should swing by. It’s a crazy one though. I must warn you.

“She’s at a party,” I say, my voice hoarse. My heart is cracking in two. Caden mentioned he was going to his friend’s house, but he didn’t say anything about a party.

“With Caden?”

I nod, unable to speak. I’m afraid I’ll start yelling or worse, crying. He’s with Whitney. At a party. And she’s taking pictures of the two of them together, and …

God, what are they doing together?

My imagination kicks into overdrive and I send that bitch Whitney another text.

Where are you at exactly? Maybe we will stop by.

I wait, my patience, my control, my emotions … all of it fraying at the seams. I feel like I’m about to break apart into a trillion tiny pieces. No way could Caden be cheating on me with Whitney. No. Way. He wouldn’t do that. We’ve become too close; we’ve shared too much.

Well. We haven’t shared much beyond our bodies. I can’t even begin to deal with or process what Violet just told me, either.

I just want Caden. Is that too much to ask?

Apparently it is.

The phone dings and I check it.

Belgrave Square. Want me to text you the address?

The most hoity-toity neighborhood in all of London. Of course. Maybe Caden’s not there to screw around with Whitney. Perhaps he’s there to steal from his friend, or anyone else who happens to be there and dripping with fine jewels.

Oh, God. This is all just too much. I think I’m going to be sick.

Ignoring the nausea that threatens, I reply to Whitney, refraining from calling her every whorish name I can think of. Talk about a dead giveaway that she’s not texting with Violet.

Send it to me. We’ll come by later.

“Give me my phone back,” Violet demands, holding out her hand.

I send her a withering stare. “No.” Tapping my foot, I’m instantly relieved when Whitney responds quickly with the address. I copy the text and send it to my number before I hand the phone back to Violet. “Fine. Here.”

She reads back over the texts I sent, my conversation with Whitney, then glances up at me. “What are you doing, Rose?”

“I’m going to that party,” I say determinedly, grabbing my purse and slinging it over my shoulder. “I have to know what’s going on.”

“This isn’t the way to go about it.”

I start for the door. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Me breaking up with Caden?”

“You’re going to break up with him?” she asks.

The hope in her voice is clear. And that kills me. I’ve always wanted her approval for everything I’ve ever done. Violet’s opinion has always mattered.

But I’m not going to end a relationship with a guy I care about because she thinks he’s bad for me. Maybe he’s not. Maybe he could change for me.

Classic, stupid way to think, Rose.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know yet,” I admit, reaching out to grasp the door handle. My hand is shaking, I’m so upset, and I grip the handle tight, trying to control my nerves. “I’m sure I’ll tell you all about it. Eventually.” Maybe.

Maybe not.

Without another word I open the door and exit her office, making my escape.

Headed straight into the unknown.

Chapter Twenty-one

Caden

The party is insane and it’s not even five o’clock. There have to be almost one hundred people crammed into Mitchell’s parents’ massive Belgrave Square townhouse. Music is pumping through the whole-house sound system and the kitchen is overtaken with every type of liquor imaginable. The place is a mess, empty glasses and beer bottles and cans everywhere, empty platters where appetizers once sat. Tiny red stirring straws and crumpled napkins and cigarette butts litter the floor.

The Landerses would absolutely shit if they witnessed the destruction happening in their London home. I kick a plastic champagne glass out of my path with a sneer. Hell, the mess disgusts me, and it’s not even my place.