Page 36 of In Case You Didn't Know

Her eyes flash. “That’s not what you used to call me.”

I shrug. “You were just a way to scratch an itch, Annalise. Nothing more.” I lean down like I’m about to kiss her and feel her shiver. “Tell your brother I said hi. And that he’s never getting another penny from me. I won. It’s over.”

I walk away before she can reply, glad she can’t see the fury in my expression.

The deal’s done – he finally signed last week – but now he’s out there partying on money he didn’t earn. Still smug. Still circling like a vulture, only with a bigger bar tab and better drugs, courtesy of me.

I should’ve known better. About both of them.

He tried to take my company. She handed him the keys. Stole files, read private emails, fed him everything he needed to launch the takeover.

They were a package deal. All charm and betrayal.

And yeah, I won the war. But some victories leave scars.

By the time I reach the Amber Room on the third floor, I’ve buried the anger. On the outside, I’m calm as I step into the gilded, hush-toned dining room with its gold-leafed walls and ruby carpet.

The maître d’ leads me to a round table in the far corner, murmuring that Mr. Salinger and his guest have already arrived.

I nod. Smile. Put on the mask. I’m ready to do business. Ready to be professional.

Until I see her.

She’s sitting next to Myles, her inky-black silk dress skimming her thighs and clinging to every goddamned curve. Her hair’s swept up, showing off the line of her throat and the slope of her shoulder.

And just like that, I’m pathetically breathless.

“Asher,” Myles says, standing up to shake my hand. “I invited my sister Francine to join us. I hope you don’t mind.”

I can’t even pretend to look at Myles. My eyes are locked on her.

She meets my gaze with something that’s definitely not surprise. More like... simmering disdain, which is probably fair.

She might have ran far away from Liberty and from me, but I did nothing about it. It’s my fault we’re sitting down to dinner like we’re strangers.

And I have no goddamned idea how I’m supposed to get through the next ninety minutes without doing something very, very stupid.

FRANCIE

I swear to God I’m going to kill my brother. And Autumn’s brother. That’s all he is to me now. Just some guy in a perfectly tailored suit who once made me forget my own name.

He might look like a walking wet dream in designer threads, but I know better. I’ve got the hot flush to prove it.

“Francine,” he says, a smile playing at his lips because he knows I hate it when people use my full name. He holds out hishand as though we haven’t seen each other in years. And because my brother is here, I have to take it, dammit.

His fingers curl around mine, warm, confident, like they own me. The same fingers that brought me to my knees.

I yank my hand back before the memory finishes replaying.

We sit, and the waiter comes over to fill our glasses with water. Myles orders a whiskey, Asher does the same, and I ask for a cocktail, because if I’m going to get through this meal I’ll need sugar and alcohol to do it.

“So how are you?” Asher asks me, his voice conversational. I look at him, but his face betrays no expression.

“I’m fine. How are you?” I ask, equally as politely.

“Never been better,” he says smoothly. “Remarkably calm, actually. Peaceful. Quiet.” He glances at me. “Almost made me wonder if my phone had stopped working.”

Myles frowns. “Have you thought about changing providers?” he asks. “Surely that can’t be good for your line of work.”