Page 40 of No Longer Mine (Rags & Riches #2)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Scarlett

Dimitri ordered a prime filet tenderloin while I ordered pasta, of course.

I didn’t know how a man could crave Italian and then order a steak, but who was I to judge?

This girl loved pasta and was glad he’d chosen this place because it wasn’t one I’d ever been to before.

Oliver and I usually tried a new place out every few weeks, but never this one.

I was glad for it but a little suspicious.

“Have you been here before?” I asked as I finished my delightfully incredible pasta.

He shook his head as he took a sip from his wine glass. I’d stayed far away from the alcohol. I didn’t trust myself buzzed around him. Hell, I didn’t trust myself sober around him. “No, I thought it might be a nice place to try out.”

I hummed as I watched him.

“Tell me about yourself, Scarlett.”

“Is this a real date?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

He licked his lips and I hated how I zeroed in on the movement. “It could be.”

“Oh?”

“Tell me about you.”

“I’m pretty boring,” I tried.

I failed. “I don’t believe that at all. You’re a little thief and you don’t have anything interesting about you? What do you do for fun?”

I cleared my throat. “I like to go to the gym. I take a few MMA classes.”

His eyebrows jumped. “My kind of girl.”

I would have been lying if I said his words didn’t give me butterflies. I hated it so much. “What about you?”

“I like kickboxing, but MMA sounds more my speed. I would love to know where you train.”

I shook my head. “No chance in hell.”

His lips kicked up in a smirk. “Fair enough. Though I will find out.”

“Just like you got my number?”

His grin widened. “Yes.”

“What else?”

His brows jumped, but he continued to grin at me. It was unsettling, gorgeous. “I enjoy painting and art. I frequent the galleries around here.”

I thought back to his apartment and all of the art lining his walls. It made sense. “Interesting.”

“Have you always lived in the city?” He asked before he took a sip from his wine glass.

I shook my head. Unsure of what to say. I hadn’t thought of this as a real date.

I had never even been on a real date. All of the dates I’d been on were for heists and marks.

When I did that, I always had a story. But this was different.

He would know if it were a story. “No, I moved here when I was a kid.”

His eyes softened, and my nerves jumped. I didn’t like where this was headed, but I didn’t know how to stop it. “You still talk to your parents?”

I swallowed thickly, no longer hungry for any food or dessert. It would all taste like ash in my mouth. “They died when I was young.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” and he did sound apologetic, which I hated. “But then again, if your father was anything like mine… maybe you are better off.”

I blinked. “You don’t get along with your father?”

He leaned back in his chair and his gaze skipped over the art above our heads. “I hate him.”

I didn’t know how I knew, but he was telling the truth. “Why?” The question slipped out as barely a whisper.

His sigh was a devastating sound. “Because he hated all of us? No, it’s deeper than that. I just would never know where to start.”

My thoughts jumped back to the file I’d found in Gavin’s office. Did Dimitri know his father was capable of trafficking?

“Wow, I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. At least we weren’t focused on my past anymore. I didn’t know how much I could lie to him. I knew no matter what I said, he would never find out the truth.

He shrugged. “I’ve come to terms with it.”

I nodded as I stared at the remaining noodles on my plate.

“Did you move in with family after they passed?" Right back to me.

“No, not really.” What the fuck.

I looked up from my plate. He was staring at me with his unsettling eyes like he could see into my soul. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said quickly.

“I had a friend who attended Vanewood—” I didn’t hear anything after that as blood rushed into my ears.

I blinked as my head swam. How did he know what Vanewood was?

Oliver had done his best to bury as much as he could.

It wasn’t talked about. It was just a silly prep school that was shut down when the headmaster died… “Scarlett?”

My eyes snapped right to his face but I couldn’t say anything.

I was scrambling. I needed to get out of here.

His friend? Who was his friend? Most people at Vanewood left to live successful lives, either with their inheritances that the headmaster had tried to steal from them or with their wickedly good talents.

He slid something across the table, and my heart bottomed out.

It was a Polaroid picture of me, Vivi, Cleo, and Oliver all smiling hugely. There was still a little bit of dust on it. “Where did you get that?”

“I lied,” He left the picture in the middle of the table. “I paid a visit to Vanewood and to my surprise… there you were in this picture, even though there is nothing from before you were eighteen. Everything about you erased.”

“How did you find me?” My back was ramrod straight now. My eyes scanned for the exits. I could get out of here quick enough. I picked up my phone.

Uber. I needed an Uber now.

“It wasn’t exactly hard. I found Oliver Christenson.”

I closed my eyes. Oliver. Of course. He hadn’t wanted everything about himself erased. He wanted to live the life he was supposed to, with his inheritance and on his own terms.

“I saw he attended Vanewood, so I decided to pay it a visit to see if I could find out more about you.”

“Why would you want to do that? What do you want from me?”

“I don’t know, but I can’t stop thinking about you, so I figured if I solved the mystery of you, it would be enough.”

“Well?”

“It isn’t.”

I shook my head as I stood up from the table.

My Uber was a few minutes away. I could get away.

I could go to the safe house. I could convince Oliver to recreate an identity for me.

As much as I loved being Scarlett, I didn’t have to be her anymore.

As much as I loved my name, I could give it up.

I could give all of this up if it meant my past stayed buried deep.

“Thank you for dinner,” and I practically ran from the room. I didn’t know if he was following me or calling for me. All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears. My heart pounded in my chest as I raced through the restaurant and to the street.

What all had he found there? This picture wasn’t the only thing left behind. I knew there was plenty more… starting with the bed frame.

Instantly, I was taken back, right to that very place.

I yanked myself out of Jameson’s arms and pulled my skirt down back around my legs. Bile rose in the back of my throat, but somehow… Somehow I managed to not throw up on his shoes. I hated him. I hated his touch. I hated this place.

“You’ve been such a good girl lately. I’m proud of you.” Jameson smirked as he tucked himself back into his pants. “So obedient.”

I could no longer hold it back, and the vomit came up. I bent over at the waist and spilled all the contents of my stomach right on his shiny leather shoes.

“You bitch!” He shoved me away and then thought better of it and grabbed me. He pushed me down into it. “You’ll learn from this.”

My body was sore from where he abused me and everything ached as I landed on my butt right below the stairs.

It was hidden enough for Jameson to do what he wanted to me.

I’d fought so many times, but there was no fight left in me.

I just wanted it to be over with. If it wasn’t for Oliver, Cleo, and Vivi, I would have ended it a long time ago.

“Scarlett!” Dimitri called from behind me, and I blinked out of the memory. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was a sore subject. We could talk about it.”

The Uber pulled up in front of me.

A manic laugh bubbled out of me as I fought not to cry my eyes out in front of this man.

I yanked the door open on the little car and shook my head.

“Do I want to talk about the past that I had buried for a reason with a stranger that doesn’t know if he wants to kill me more than he wants to fuck me?

No. I do not want to talk about being raped for years by the headmaster and his son.

No. I do not want to talk about everything that I endured in that hellhole.

And no, I do not want to share my past any longer. Let me know how much I owe you.”

My eyes filled with tears as I turned to leave.

“Scarlett, I didn't know.”

I couldn’t even look at him. I was so mortified. I was humiliated. I couldn’t believe this night had ended like it had. I got into the Uber and closed my eyes.

Oliver called. He texted.

I ignored every single one.

Dimitri hadn’t tried to call or text, which was surprising enough. I thought maybe he would have tried.

For a week, I barely moved. I didn’t cook. I lived off takeout and silence, burying myself under blankets and hoping the world would forget I existed.

Then, Cleo let herself in.

“I’m going to take it that you didn’t fuck him to death like we both hoped.”

I peeked out from under the blanket and shot her a scowl. “I had the codes and locks changed.”

“Oliver was worried about you too, ya know?”

I pulled the blanket back over my face. “I’m alive. Bye.”

The couch dipped under her weight. “Eventually, you’ll tell me what happened.”

“That day isn’t today.”

She rubbed my back through the blanket. “It couldn’t have been that bad. I mean, he let you live.”

“He knows about Vanewood.”

Before I could stop her or realize her intentions, the blanket was ripped off of me in one swift motion. “What does that mean?”

“He went there and found a picture of us.”

She gnawed on her bottom lip. “Uh, what else did he find?”