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She thinks I regret saving her. I don’t. Not one bit. What I regret is that we’re not meant to be together. Our marriage was never the plan. She’s the Senator’s daughter, for crying out loud. Her father is a fucking murderer, my only enemy. And I just cannot get past that. Especially when I see her mind doing acrobatics, trying to justify his behavior. She blames me for that auction. And somehow doesn’t see that he’s the reason she’s here. Hell, he’s the reason I’m here, trapped in a hell of his making.

“These new potatoes are delicious, Mary Jane,” Gardenia says in her usual bubbly tone. She’s still not talking to me, but at least she’s no longer angry. “How do you get them so crispy?”

“Goose fat.” Mary Jane winks. “I’m glad you’re enjoying them.”

“Is she coming?” I interrupt their exchange, shooting a quick glance at the place setting to my right.

“Um.” Mary Jane looks down at her apron, then retrieves a letter. “She’s indisposed.”

“Let me see it.” I put down my fork and reach out to get the envelope from her.

Since she locked her door earlier today after our kiss, I decided to leave her a note to invite her, very politely, to join us for dinner.

I open the letter and read her message all in caps: I WOULD RATHER STARVE

“At least she’s consistent.” I stuff the letter in the inside pocket of my suit jacket. “Could you bring her a tray?” I say to Mary Jane.

“Of course, Mr. Archer. Right away.” She nods.

“And make sure she eats. Stay with her until she does.” I pick up my fork and knife and cut into the roasted goose.

“I will.” She smiles and disappears behind the service door.

“Okay, since she’s not coming.” Gardenia drinks from her wine. “Can we talk about our next mission.” She beams at Fisher. “You’re letting me come with you, right?”

Fisher looks at me. “If Archer doesn’t need you here, sure.”

She rolls her eyes. With a begrudging look, she turns to me. “Can I go?”

“I didn’t think you were ready to go back to London.” I sit back and sip from my wine glass. “Are you sure?”

“Wait. What?” She squints at her dad. “I thought we were moving on to the next thing. The Senator’s real estate business. That guy Hunter is running it. Poorly I might add.”

I swallow hard at the mention of that asshole’s name, shooting a glance toward the upstairs where I know Paloma keeps his fucking gift.

“For now, we need to take a break. If we deliver another blow, he’ll grow suspicious and will tread lightly with any new investments.” I place a bite of the goose in my mouth and chew slowly.

“Are you sure that’s it?” Gardenia cuts angrily into her potatoes. “Or are you growing soft because of her? Since she got here, you haven’t asked me about any of my research. Or progress on the mansion.”

“Gardenia,” Fisher says in a patient tone. “Archer knows what he’s doing.”

“Or he used to. When we first got here, everyday was spent on doing something to stick it to the Senator.” She points at me. “But now, he’s not doing anything. It’s like he doesn’t want revenge anymore. Jeez, I wonder why.”

At least she’s talking to me now. “How is the progress on the mansion?” I ask.

“It’s all yours, furniture and all.” She cocks an eyebrow. “Not that the Senator cares that much. He hasn’t been back since the auction.”

“It’s only been a few days,” Fisher says.

“Yes, but before, if he was in town, he would spend every night in that house.” Gardenia shrugs.

“It must be hard coming to an empty house like that.” Jacob finally speaks. He’s been oddly quiet and not teasing Gardenia as he likes to do.

“When will you tell her?” Fisher asks.

I know he means Paloma. When will I tell her that her childhood home is lost to her. “I haven’t decided yet. Does the Senator know?”

Gardenia smirks. “He knows. He took all the paintings though. Even the one of your grandparents.”