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I’m still smiling thinking about Archer, his family, and how they all came together, when an idea hits me. Oh crap. His mom is in my old room where I left the crystal swan. I laugh thinking of the last time Archer made me rub against it until I came. He wanted me to think of him every time I saw it. Mission accomplished. I get to the second floor and linger on the landing.

Even if Freya doesn’t know what the swan means to me, I know its story and where it’s been. With one last look at the quiet downstairs, I rush to my old room and push the door open.

The suite smells of roses and burned wood. Now that she’s here, even the bedding is different. I rush to the bedside and pull the drawer open. The crystal swan is exactly where I left it. I snatch it and stuff it in my pocket, letting the long neck stick out.

Once I make a mental inventory to make sure I’m not leaving anything else behind, I head back toward the door. I place my hand on the knob, and the vision finally registers in my brain. Did I just see…?

Slowly, I turn to face the writing desk that Freya is using as a vanity. And that’s when I see it…the pink diamond sitting in a glass jewelry box next to a pearl necklace and a pair of diamond earrings.

I feel like I’m floating as I amble toward it. Maybe it’s not the same one. Maybe it’s not even real. I pick it up and put it against the light. Its brilliance and perfect cut is like no other. It’s why it’s worth more than six million dollars. The piece is one of a kind in the world. Why does Freya have it? How did she get it?

The room sways, and I stumble backward as I try to puzzle it all together. Fragments of that night when I saw Archer for a second time swim in my head. A single thought pushes through, even though I don’t want it to. I don’t know why the pink diamond is in Freya’s room. I don’t care.

A sob escapes my lips, and I cover my mouth. Archer stole the diamond from me. Even after I begged him for help, when he saw how much trouble I was in, he didn’t come forward with the truth. He let me take the fall for it. He let me stand in front of a bunch of men while they bid on my virginity. And for what? So he could play the hero? So he could swoop in and save me at the last minute?

I shake my head as tears stream down my cheeks. No, that’s not the Archer I know. Maybe he bought it off the real thief later, much later, after we were married.

“I’m so stupid.” I sob.

None of it makes sense. Why steal it if he had the money to pay for it? Dad was more than willing to sell it. Everyone knew Archer had the winning bid. If he wanted it so badly, he just had to wait a few days to get it. Why steal it from me then?

Why?

A myriad of really bad ideas and even worse suppositions inundate my mind. Archer wouldn’t do this to me. He wouldn’t put me through hell just to watch me suffer. But what about Dad? What about Archer’s inexplicable hatred for Dad?

The two dots waiting to be connected flash in front of me—Archer in my room that night, Freya’s portrait, the diamond, the forbidden wing. It’s all connected. I fist the pink diamond tighter and refuse to jump to conclusions. The truth is too ugly. And I hate that I’m in the middle of it like some stupid pawn. Is that all I am? A pawn in Archer’s war. But against whom?

Only one person can answer all my questions. I can’t trust Archer anymore. He knows exactly how to manipulate me, how to make me forget the right questions to ask. I glance around the room and spot Freya’s phone sitting on the charger on her bedside table. I amble toward it, grab it, and stuff it in the back pocket of my jeans.

I leave the room with my heart racing. Dad owes me an explanation. And it can’t wait until tomorrow.

CHAPTER31

THE TRUTH IS ALREADY TWISTED

Archer

I stare out onto the ocean with the moon high on the horizon. Since we left Bedford, I can’t shake this feeling that I should’ve asked Paloma to come to the Hamptons with me. More and more, all I want to do is tell her the whole truth. For one, she needs to know who her father really is. But also, I want her to know me, all of me, the good and the bad.

My only solace at this point is knowing that after tonight, I will no longer have to hide from Paloma or her father. After tonight, I will be Tristan again. Mom will be able to stay in the home she loves so much, where she and Dad spent the best years of their lives together.

The Senator is all but ruined. Only a few of his friends remain. Sutherland for some reason has chosen to still back the Senator—even after his political party ordered the Senator to step down. According to my sources, the Senator is scheduled to give his speech on Monday.

By then, Paloma will be all mine. I’m hoping that the knowledge that the Senator brought this on himself will ease some of her pain. I’ve yet to understand where her devotion for him comes from. Even Chuck says he hates his father and his manipulative methods. Why can’t Paloma also see through her father’s bullshit and all his shady dealings? She doesn’t even blame him for the auction.

Sure, I orchestrated the whole thing. But the choice was always his. He could’ve chosen to walk away from the deal and find another way to save his ass. Or better yet, he could’ve chosen to finally face the consequences of his own actions. But instead, he threw his only daughter to the wolves. I didn’t realize it then, but I was prepared to lay down my anger and my thirst for revenge. If he had opted to do the right thing and not bring Paloma into this mess, I would’ve paid off his debt and returned home to Mom.

Maybe a part of me simply wanted his repentance. I wanted him to admit he’s a piece of shit. He forced my hand when he agreed to my contract. Once Paloma finds out the truth, I have no doubt she will hate me for what I did to her father, but I’m prepared to spend the rest of my life earning her forgiveness.

I smile at the shimmering water gently rolling onto the shore. I have a lifetime to show her that she did her best to help him, that he doesn’t deserve her unconditional love. Despite how we got started and who her father is, Paloma and I have a shot at happiness and a future together.

Fuck, I ache to be in bed with her, her mouth around my cock, and mine on her pretty pussy. I deeply regret leaving my wife shortly after dinner tonight. But if I hurry, I can grab my family’s paintings and be home before she wakes up.

“You look like the cat who drank the milk?” Santino walks up the lawn to join me on the terrace.

“Thank you for letting us use your home?” I nod with a smile.

Santino’s East Hampton beach house is a beautiful oceanfront property with a backyard that feeds into a private beach. Thick grass covers the ground around the pool. The whole place looks like a resort on some island. And I can’t help but wonder if Paloma would like to have a home like this one—go on walks on the beach to watch the sunset.