My Dark Romeo: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance(66)

If it were only Zach, I could probably shake him off. We were similar in size, but I had experience in this field and an extra fifty pounds of rage inside me right now.

Unfortunately, Oliver held my other arm. “I knew he was going to ruin all the fun. Next time, don’t invite him, Daly City.”

Dallas ignored him.

Madison chuckled. “This is all very middle-school playground, Costa. Can’t control your emotions?”

“My emotions are fine. In fact, it felt extra nice to fuck your former fiancée with my tongue five minutes after I broke your nose in Paris.”

A chorus of gasps ricocheted behind my shoulder.

Most people viewed me as an unsympathetic and efficient businessman, who never colored outside the lines or did anything to garner gossip. Positive, negative, or otherwise.

That image crumbled to ruins.

Because of Shortbread.

She’d officially stolen my second scandal, too.

Madison narrowed his eyes, reminding me why shampoo bottles came with instructions. “I should sue you for what you did to me.”

“You should. That way, I can sue you for what you did to me.”

He and I both knew exactly what I’d referred to.

His smile disappeared. He edged himself further from Dallas, who had checked out of this conversation minutes ago and was now examining her cuticles.

Her downturned lips reeked of dissatisfaction. Good thing she’d invited her nail technician, too.

“All right, buddy. Time to get out of here before I, myself, mess your face up further.” With a cheerful grin, Oliver grabbed Madison by the ear like a nineteenth-century principal, dragging him out for all to see. “And I hate to say this, but from the bottom of my heart, you cannot afford more damage to your already average face.”

People spat out nervous laughter. I noticed no phones aimed at us. Shortbread must have confiscated them upon her guests’ arrival.

Smart girl.

Dead girl, too, but smart nonetheless.

With Madison kicking, screaming, and threatening legal action while Oliver literally dragged him from the premises, I addressed the real culprit of my life’s undoing.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Not much.” She pouted. “You seem to be doing all the talking for the both of us. Really, Rom? Telling the world about what happened in the hotel room?”

Not my finest moment, I’d give her that.

Not that I was in a mood to admit it.

“It was our honeymoon. Not one soul under this roof thought we were playing cards and discussing Dante poems in our suite. Now are you ready to be grounded?”

“Are we role-playing right now? Is this where you spank me, Daddy?”

Much to my horror, my dick stirred.

Meanwhile, Zach hovered in the periphery, probably afraid I’d do something he thought I’d regret. Like kick Dallas out of my home and toss her Henry Plotkin books into the Potomac.

“Are you aware that Hettie is responsible for every misstep you make?”

That got to her.

Shortbread straightened, meeting me in fast strides. “This isn’t her fault. I promised her just a small get-together. But I never expected so many people to show up at your house. I thought they’d all avoid you like the plague.”

“And I’m supposed to believe inviting every single person I’ve ever blacklisted within a hundred-mile radius is a simple innocent mistake?”

She pouted. “I thought it was your friends list. Surprise?” At my flat, unamused expression, she rocked on her feet. “How was I supposed to know what that list was? It’s not like you tell me anything. I don’t know a single thing about you. What city you were born in. The name of your first pet. Your mother’s maiden name. Your favorite food as a child.”

“You learn things by asking, Dallas. Not by throwing ragers that can be heard from the International Space Station.”

“I do ask. You never answer me.”

“Potomac. No pets. Serra. Anything with calories. See how easy that was?”

“Rom.” That came from Zach, who approached my flank.

I ignored him. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

“The make and model of your first car?”

“A Porsche Cayenne.”

“Rom.”

I rounded on Zach. “What?”

“Do these questions ring any bells? From, oh, I don’t know… The security questions to a bank account, perhaps?”

Dallas launched a fierce glare at him. “So, you can enjoy my party, but you can’t help fund it? Are you going to foot the bill if he cuts my credit card? At least stay out of my way while I hustle.”

From the hallway, Oliver cackled. “I love her, Rom. I just do.”

I hadn’t even realized he’d returned.

“Out.” I pointed to the door, followed by my two friends. “Both of you. Out. And you…” I turned to Dallas. “You’re coming with me.”

“Why should I?” She flipped her hair.

It took everything in me not to grab her by the waist and fuck the sass out of her in front of a full audience. The only thing stopping me was the fact that, sadly, it was probably part of her master plan.

“Because I said so.”

She gasped theatrically. “Oh, why didn’t you say so? In that case, start walking. I’ll surely follow.”