Page 242 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8

‘You listened to me describe what that business means to me, all the while knowing that every moment we spent on this boat was a moment closer to your best friend triumphing over me, taking it all away.’

‘I would have done everything in my power to stop that, I promise.’

‘Your promises aren’t worth a damned thing,’ he snapped. ‘Time’s up.’ He straightened, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘I have a wedding to prepare for.’

She flinched, standing, moving to him, reaching out but he stepped away.

‘Don’t,’ he insisted, firmly.

She could hardly speak for how hard she was crying. Her soul was shattered. Every part of her life had been distilled to this moment; she was falling apart.

‘Please don’t marry her,’ she whispered.

He glared through her. ‘You’re trying to succeed in your plan, even now?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t care about anything but this.’ She pushed her hand into her chest then gestured to him. ‘You and I—’

‘Have been having sex,’ he muttered.

‘Don’t do that.’

‘Do what? Be honest? I’m sorry if that offends you.’

‘Don’t say we’re just sex. You know this is so much more.’

‘It’s all a lie,’ he spat. ‘All of it.’

She wanted to scream at him, to make him understand how wrong he was, but what would the point be? He was clearly determined to think the worst. She sobbed and nodded, unable to think of a single thing she could say that might get through to him.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, because she was. From the very depths of her heart, she regretted having agreed to go along with this. And yet, if she hadn’t, she never would have met Zeus, and she couldn’t countenance that. ‘And I do love you, Zeus. Whatever else you believe, I hope one day you’ll at least accept that.’

And she turned and ran back to the room they’d been sharing, to throw her clothes into a bag so she could get off his boat before she collapsed into a heap.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Forforty-eighthours, Zeus did very little but drink Scotch, drift on the ocean in his yacht and contemplate every single word they’d spoken. Every emotion. Every barb. He’d accused her of lying—and she had—but he’d lied, too, in the end about his engagement. He was ashamed of himself for doing the one thing he’d promised them both he never would: he’d hurt her. And he’d done it deliberately. He’d wanted to dig the knife in, so to speak, because of how she’d made him feel.

So what? Didn’t she deserve it?

Of course. She’d manipulated him for financial gain. She’d been sent by her best friend to destroy the one thing that mattered most to him. By every metric, she was an awful, awful person.

So why didn’t he feel more relieved? Why was he drinking himself into a stupor rather than flying home and proposing to Philomena then and there?

Because he needed time to deal with this. Unlike his mother’s death, he hadn’t been braced for Jane’s betrayal. He’dtrustedher, he thought, angrily. He’d let his guard down with her, something he’d never done with another soul, and she’d promised him he could. That it was safe. She’d made him trust her. Because it wasn’t enough just to screw with him? What kind of sick game had she wanted to play?

Disgust—at himself and her, at his father and Charlotte—flooded his body. He poured another measure of Scotch, held it close to his chest and tried to think clearly. To contemplate his next move. Marriage. To someone else. He knew it was vital, but just the thought of it turned his stomach.

He’d loved Jane, and despite her betrayal, there was a part of him that still did. At least, that loved the version of her she’d shown him.

This is real.

Liar.

He threw back the Scotch then slammed the glass down, wondering how the hell he could get her out of his head and heart.

Four days later, Zeus arrived at his office with no outward hint of what had happened on the boat. Dressed in a suit, he strode in, determined to take charge of his company, to work out a way to keep it in his name, telling himself that was still the most important thing in his life.

Only, within minutes of sitting behind his desk and drafting an email to his lawyer, one of his assistants buzzed his phone.