Lost in Paradise (Paradise Club #2)(92)

What a steal!

The Holdsworths don’t lose their home in the process which is a bonus for them, but everything else is mine.

However, Kevin and Steve must live with the knowledge that they have lost everything their father worked for his entire life. Unfortunately, two men like them couldn’t care less as long as they have trust funds and whatever else they can get their hands on that’s squirreled away for a rainy day.

The sex tape of Kevin and his mistress was sent to his wife, along with the paperwork and photographs showing Kevin’s other apartments around the city and their occupants—who all get nighttime visits from one Kevin Holdsworth—well, that story was leaked to the tabloids.

Then there’s Steve, with his ever-increasing gambling debt, which was completely out of control. So when the lines of credit were advised that Steve was almost completely bankrupt, debts were called in and collected.

Of course, by this time, Steve had blown through his entire trust fund and is now bankrupt.

Good old Steve learned first-hand what a couple of fists to the face and a few broken ribs feel like. The stupid man had to beg and borrow money from people. Otherwise, he wasn’t going to like the consequences if he didn’t pay the loan sharks on time. I think for the first time in his life, Steve Holdsworth was held accountable, and that felt good.

Karma.





36





IVY





One Year Later …





Men are so bad at telling you what’s really been happening.

Camryn and Nate finally, after a long time apart, decided they were better together than apart. They have both gone to therapy and are dealing with their PTSD from that night on the island where they were both assaulted. Now they live together in New York where Nate bases himself.

Olivia and Axel got married in a fairy tale event in France at one of her family’s chateaus. They are living their happily ever after between LA and London. So much so that Alex has leased commercial property to Dirty Texas Records so they can have a London studio.

Alex and Axel have formed a firm friendship. It’s not like they had much of a choice seeing how close Olivia and I are.

We spent our first Christmas together with Nate, Camryn, Sam, Harper, Rose, and Kimberly at Sam and Harper’s family’s ski chalet in Aspen. It was beautiful and romantic. So romantic that Nate popped the question to my sister. Nate didn’t want to wait, seeing as my sister said yes, so he married her on Christmas Day, thanks to Alex getting ordained quickly online. As a blizzard raged outside, Alex married them in front of a roaring fireplace, and all around us were glass windows. The ambiance was perfect. I always thought because Camryn’s this celebrity event planner that she would want a big, extravagant wedding, but she was happy enough to marry Nate with just the fire and us there as her witnesses.

“Open your eyes,” Alex tells me.

I had to keep them shut for an hour while Alex drove, and eventually, I fell asleep. It takes me a couple of beats to open my eyes fully and work out we’re stopped in front of a gorgeous stately home in the country.

“Are we staying here?” I turn and ask Alex.

“Yep.” He grins.

It looks so beautiful. I’ve been on a bit of a historical home binge, checking them all out online, so Alex is probably sick of me talking about how much I love them, and he’s brought me away to get my fix.

Honestly, if I could conjure up my dream country home, it would be this one. Looking like it’s come straight out of a fairy tale book, the black and white Tudor style home with a red-tiled roof instead of the traditional thatched stands gracefully in front of me. The gardens are immaculate—the grass perfectly green with its faultlessly aligned stripes mowed and rolled into the lawn. There are lavender gardens with a traditional cottage-style garden mixed throughout. I adore the fact that everything was hand-built all those years ago. Each window and door isn’t perfect, so when you’re decorating or trying to measure for new windows it’s a nightmare, but that adds to the overall charm.

Alex takes my hand and walks me across the stone driveway to the ornate black door.

Maybe this is a bed and breakfast and not a hotel, as no one has come out and greeted us yet.

Alex doesn’t knock. Instead, he walks straight into the home, pulling me along with him, and when I look down there are rose petals scattered all over the floor.

Well, that’s a little messy, I think until I realize they’re all the way through the house.

“Did you do this?” I ask Alex as he continues to drag me through, following the rose-petal path. That’s when I notice how empty the home is and how there’s not much furniture or much of anything in here. But there are rows of candles covering the empty living space, and that weirdness gains my attention.

In the center of the room is a picnic set up for two, with a rug laid out in the middle of the area with a ring of rose petals and candles surrounding the beautiful rug. There are cushions on either side of the picnic basket and a bucket of champagne in the middle.

Oh my goodness, he is so romantic, I think as I take in the scene around me.

As we reach the circle, Alex stops and falls to one knee.

Oh my god.

My hand rushes to my mouth in surprise.

No.

He’s not.

Shit.

Fuck.