Chapter 22
Chapter 22:
I let out a low sigh of relief when Isla’s eyes finally leave my face and drop to the drink in her hands.
“You know, the girl you’re going to love is going to be one lucky girl, Asher. And you’re even a damn good kisser to top it off p>
Damn it. My ears must be playing tricks on me, because what I heard has to be a joke. I’m already in love with the girl she’s talking about. This girl sitting beside me right now is the girl I love. Isla Monroe is the girl I love.
The dumb, silent confession crashes into me like a truck, my heart nearly exploding in a mixture of pain and anger.
Fuck this. I’m going to tell her right now how I feel—
“Hey, babe p>
Dominic’s voice cuts through the night behind us, and the surprise it sends through my body shoves the three words rising in my throat right back down into my chest. The three words that have pricked and poked at my heart for years, begging to be free.
He bends down and kisses Isla’s forehead. “I’ve been looking for you all over the house p>
“Really? You didn’t have to,” Isla replies, looking up at him. “I told you I’d come back to the room after a few minutes p>
Dominic kisses her forehead again, the smooching sound making me sick.
He plays with her her hair. “I know, babe. But I was already feeling so lonely I couldn’t wait for you to come back p>
God. I want to puke. I can’t keep watching this—not when it’s tearing me apart inside.
“Isla, Dominic, I’ll be heading back into the house.” I stand, faking a yawn. “Isla, help me return my glass to the kitchen. Goodnight, guys p>
“Goodnight, Asher p>
They answer almost in unison, a sing-song harmony that rips through my chest. Jealousy claws at my insides, tearing me from skin to bone. It wraps around my throat, choking me, so I hurry back into the house, up the stairs, and straight into my room.
I slam the door shut behind me, not caring if I wake anyone.
I strip off my clothes immediately and rush into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, I let the cold water crash down, cooling my tense muscles.
Everything comes rushing back into my head, into my heart, into my body. The way Isla tasted when I kissed her. The maddening craving when she kissed me back. The pain that ripped through me when she called it a mistake.The way…
Dominic’s arms snaked around her like she was his fucking property, the same way he was talking and calling Isla’s name earlier on the phone in the kitchen.
Fuck. I can’t shake the fragments of that conversation out of my head.
They’re still there, ringing like a fucking temple bell.
“Asshole p>
“Just a little time p>
“Stupid idiot p>
“She knows nothing p>
“Very soon p>
At the same time, Isla’s phone conversations with me from the past few weeks come rushing back like a torrent. Every sentence becomes clearer, every phrase starts to piece together. Dominic pushing her to invest in the company he works for, his eager interest in her financial goals and dreams, the way he ogled at the necklace I gave her back at the resort, his sudden desire to marry her.
I turn off the shower and rest my throbbing head against the tiled wall in front of me.
There is no way in hell I’m going to let Isla marry that man. A man who can’t even make phone calls in front of the girlfriend he claims to love. Dominic met Isla last month, and now he suddenly wants to marry her this month. I know love can make people do crazy things, but we’re talking about marriage here, not some steamy vacation fling.
I don’t know about others, but to Isla, marriage is serious. The scars of her parents’ failed marriage still haunt her to this day, and I want nothing more than to be the one to take that weight and pain off her shoulders.
I want her to be happy, even if I’m not the one who makes her happy. Isla means the entire world to me, but I can’t help wondering if she means the same to Dominic. With how fast and shallow he’s moving—and after hearing that strange phone conversation tonight—I know I have to resolve my doubts by finding out the truth myself.
I step out of the bathroom and towel-dry my body. Slipping into pajamas, I move to sit on my bed.
The lights in my room are already off, except for the dim glow of the bedside lamp. I pick up my phone from the drawer and switch it on.
I scroll through my contacts and stop when I find the name I’m looking for.
Detective Victor Brooks.
He’s the best undercover detective in the city. one advantage of being a wealthy billionaire is the network of influential people you can reach at your fingertips. Especially the people you’ve helped in one way or another. To me, that’s the best network anyone could have.
I dial Victor’s number, my index finger tapping impatiently on the edge of my phone as I wait for him to pick up. I know I’m calling late, but I suppose I’m the epitome of someone helpless enough to do crazy things for love.
The call finally connects, and I lift the phone to my ear.
“Hey, Asher.” Victor’s deep, sleepy voice booms through the line. “What’s up p>
“I’m good, Victor. Sorry for calling at this hour, but I need a favor p>
“Shoot, Asher. You know there’s no favor too big for you p>
“Thanks, Victor.” I take a deep breath before continuing. “I need you to investigate someone for me. His name is Dominic Davidson, and he works at a financial corporation called FlutterCoin Exchange. That’s pretty much all I know about him p>
A few seconds of silence pass on the other end. “Noted, Asher. I’ll get back to you in about a week or two p>
I smile into the phone. “Thanks, Victor p>
“No, Asher. Thank you. I owe you big time. My mom is alive today because of you. I’m doing my best to return the favor p>
I nearly groan. “Stop saying that, Victor. It wasn’t and will never be a favor. Your mom deserved it. Don’t make me feel like some gray-haired philanthropist p>
He laughs. “Alright, Asher. Goodnight p>
“Goodnight, Victor,” I reply, ending the call.
I set the phone back on the drawer, feeling at peace. Switching off the lamp, I lie down on the bed and pull the covers over me.I watch the glow of the…
Moonlight filters into my room through the thin layered curtains. After countless hours of staring, thinking, and tossing around endlessly on my bed, I finally feel my senses being overtaken by the amnesic power of sleep.