Page 84 of Ruthless Lord

“Easy, easy, it wasn’t Stefano.” I pull her inside before the neighbors hear her cursing up a storm. I’m honestly impressed at her level of rage. I didn’t think she had it in her. “Aren’t you normally pretty quiet?”

“Not when someone hurts my friend, I’m fucking not. My god, whathappened? Stefano just said you were injured in a fight but it looks like someone tried to kill you.”

“Well, that’s because they did.” I fill her in on everything. She listens, horrified, and makes more coffee when I’m done.

“What’s he going to do? I mean, someone broke into your house. He could’ve walked right into your room while you two were asleep and?—”

I cut her off. “Please, I really don’t want to think about that right now.”

“Right, of course not.” She takes my hands in hers. “I’m so sorry this happened, Charlie. And I’m so grateful Stefano was there to save you.”

“Me too.” Tears spring into my eyes again. “But he’s gone.”

“Gone?” She looks around the house. “You mean he left for a little while? I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“No, I mean he hates me now.” I pull in a deep breath. “I’ve been lying to him, Emily.”

She tilts her head, her eyes softening. “Lying how?”

I finally break. I tell her about Grandfather’s deal, about the spying, about how I’ve struggled against the idea of actually going through with it, right up until I found Giorgio’s keycard alone on the desk unattended. “I never should’ve taken it. I felt like shit afterward. I was going to shred it in Stefano’s office and throw away the pieces, but that’s when I found him. And I guess Stefano saw the card on the floor and he figured it out, and now he knows I took it. He knows I’m a liar. He hates me, Emily.”

I break down into tears again. It hurts so much to cry but I can’t stop it. I was this close to finding something good, and I fucked it up badly. I made a terrible decision, and now I’m going to pay for it the rest of my life.

My husband hates me, and I can’t even blame him for it.

“Oh, honey, I would’ve done the same thing,” she says gently. “No, really, I mean it. Your grandfather’s terrifying. If he told me to snoop, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But you had an even better reason. You agreed back before you really knew your husband. Did you ever tell your family anything?”

“Nothing. Not a word. I hated myself for even agreeing. But the keycard?—”

“Was a mistake.” She tightens her grip on my hands. “A dumb mistake, but a mistake. You’re only human. You were going to shred it and move on. You were going to do the right thing. You can’t beat yourself up over the past. There’s only moving forward.”

“Where can I even go from here?”

“You can go tell all this to your husband.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “He’ll hate me.”

“Maybe, and if he does, then he was never the man you were supposed to be with. I have a feeling he’ll understand though.”

“You didn’t see his face,” I whisper, the memory of that bleak horror, the cold deadness in his eyes, assaulting me all over again. I shiver and can’t get it from my head.

“I don’t need to. Go talk to him.” Emily gives me a firm look. “I mean it. Right now.” But then she hesitates. “Actually, let’s shower first and freshen you up a bit.”

I frown and sniff at myself. “I’m okay? I mean, I don’t smell?”

“Sure, but you look like someone tried to murder you last night.” She gets to her feet, all five-foot-two of righteous fury and pure certainty. “Come on, upstairs. You’ll clean up and I’ll pick your clothes. Then you’ll confront the husband. You’ll get past this.”

“Why are you helping?” I lean back, drinking coffee, dreading the idea of standing. “I mean, you don’t have to do all this.”

“You’re my friend. It’s what we do. Now come on. You want to make things right with him, don’t you?”

“Yes, but?—”

“Then the longer you wait, the worse it’ll get. Stand up and be strong. Believe me, after the shower, you’ll feel better.”

I stare at her, and I don’t think she’s right. I think nothing’s going to help. But she seems so sure and I have nothing else to lose, so I might as well try.

Giorgio meetsme at the front gate. “I’m guessing the husband isn’t expecting you,” he says as he escorts me through security. My shoes clack over the blacktop. I’m in a sundress, not exactly appropriate, but Emily swears I lookbeyond fuckable, her words. “But I’m betting it’ll be a pleasant surprise.”