Page 57 of Scorned Beauty

Ambushing him in this manner was the last thing I wanted to do, but all my attempts to contact him failed. He might have blocked my number. I didn’t want to involve Bianca, because I still didn’t trust the feds. The ripple effect of this new alliance was unknown, and until I had more insight into it, I blocked the girls’ numbers, too. It hurt to let go of my girl gang. Come to think of it, our closeness hadn’t been the same since the New Year when the situationship between Dom and I heated up. In my attempts to hide the affair from them, I effectively alienated the girls into thinking I was too busy with nursing school to hang out with them.

Anyway, I was getting rid of my number after this. Getting rid of it and disappearing.

I braced myself when the limo door swung open. The last time I saw Dom, he had his hands on another woman. A woman who was most likely dead.

Seeing him emerge from the limo, dressed in an expensive tuxedo and looking every inch a man who bled power and money, I was reminded that my time with him was nothing but a pipe dream.

He fixed the cuff of his sleek jacket, but it was as if I’d willed him to look in my direction.

His body stilled. His eyes darkened, which sent a chill of unease racing down my spine. This was not the man who I’dindulged a fun clandestine affair with. Well, it was fun in the beginning until I caught feelings.

“Dom,” I whispered and did a lame wave. There were security personnel scattered around. It wasn’t a crowded celebrity gala, but there was no question it was a rich-people event.

For a second, I thought he was going to ignore me. A man suited up like the Secret Service was already asking me to move aside. Me. Who was dressed in an oversized touristy sweatshirt with the words “I love New York” emblazoned across it. Ill-fitting sweatpants and canvas sneakers finished my pathetic look. I hadn’t been back to my apartment yet, but that was on my to-do. I wasn’t leaving town without Ginger.

“That’s okay,” Dom told the guy. “I need a word with her.”

Dom clasped my elbow and led me to a quiet corner. “What are you doing here? Do you have a death wish?”

“Grigori—”

“You fucked up,” he gritted. “I figured you for everything else, but not a rat.”

I flinched at the last word. In the mafia, to be called a rat was a death sentence.

“I’m not.”

“Oh, no?” He raised a brow and slid out his phone. “I saved these photos so I could shove them down your deceitful throat.”

He held the screen to my face. I didn’t have to look too closely at the first one, but I recognized it. My heart plummeted to my cheap white sneakers. It was the picture I took of him and the woman in front of the Venezia Tower.

“How—” I was still processing how he was in possession of those pictures.

He cut me off. “Look at this.” He swiped to another one. A picture of me and Phil. What the hell? “You and your neighbor together. You’ve planned this all along.”

“This was the night of Grigori’s job,” I whispered, mind reeling from the damning evidence that proved my duplicity without a way to defend myself.That would only mean…a queasiness roiled in my gut. The feds got to Dom.

“At the Venezia Tower,” he stressed. “I expected you to warn me since I’d sent you that address, but you couldn’t, could you?”

He returned the phone to his pocket. His gaze shifted to an arriving limo before falling back on me. “The feds were waiting for me when I returned from Chicago.”

“When was this?” I whispered.

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re over, remember? You ended it. I should have known better than to go slumming and sleep with someone beneath my league.”

Talons of anguish incapacitated my throat, worse than the time Anton had strangled me. I feared if I opened my mouth, I was going to cry and wouldn’t be able to stop.

Dom gave me one last scathing look before he made a disgusted sound and walked away.

“Dom,” I cried, stumbling to follow him. I forgot about my pride. I forgot about my dignity. I forgot about the walls I’d erected so I wouldn’t end up in a position of being ridiculed for daring to want more. But who was I kidding? I was on the streets begging a man who was way above my station to listen to me. Because this was more than about me. I needed Dom to help me find Billy. If he had formed an alliance with the Russians… “Dom, Billy is missing!”

He paused and turned to me, but the condemnation in his eyes slayed me. “Not my problem.” His mouth twisted cruelly. “He’s trash. And I don’t deal with trash.”

“Are you saying I’m trash?”You’re nothing but trash.

I needed him to say it. I needed him to hurt me enough that I could delete the feelings I have for him. I needed him to validate why people like me could never be with people like him.

He raised a brow. “You said it, not me.”