Page 58 of The French Honeymoon

Now was not the time to tell her that she was going to get all of Cassie’s money. It was better if she didn’t know, so she could act genuinely surprised when it happened. She had to be one hundred percent innocent; that was the key to all of this. She’d have an ironclad alibi—being an ocean away—and I’d have no motive. But what if she screws it up again? I haven’t come so far, gotten so close, to give up now.

“I think you could, this time. Thérèse, please look at me.” Back home, when it was just the two of us, I’d sometimes call her Thérèse, reveling in how her eyes lit up every time I did. It felt so intimate to call her by her name when no one else did. Now there’s a softness to her face, like she really wants this to be true. “Give me another day, okay? I’m going to get you everything you want, and so much more.”

Chapter 26

Cassie

Now

My throat feels like it’s on fire.

“Are you there?”

I wait for a sound, my heart pounding. That’s when the smell hits me: vomit, all over the sheets. It’s still wet to the touch. I’m guessing it’s mine, though I don’t remember it happening. On my nightstand, the lamp casts strange shadows around the room as I turn it on. It’s enough to see the proof I didn’t dream this: the empty bottle of wine and the puddles of water on the floor between the bathroom and the bed. My hair is still damp, and I’m naked under the sheets.

“Olivier?”

Please let him be gone forever. I need this nightmare to be over. I lift myself up in bed, trying to think. My mind is fuzzy, my limbs weak. I have to get out of here. But first, I check my phone and discover that I sent Darren a message. Judging by the time, I was in the bath then.

Don’t believe anything. He’s dangerous.

Darren has texted me back a few times.

What do u mean?

Cassie? Please, ur scaring me.

R u coming home?

Lifting myself up against the headboard, I flick through my recent calls and tap on his name.

Please pick up. Please please please.

He does. “Cassie! What’s going on?”

I try to take a deep breath, but the air tears through my lungs, and stars dance in front of my eyes. “I think I was drugged.”

“What? Where are you?”

My mouth is dry. “In the room. In bed.”

I flick off the sheets and slowly set my feet on the floor.

“And where is he?”

“Gone. I think. He dragged me out of the bath, and then I vomited everything and—”

“I don’t understand. I thought you’d left him. You told me he was okay with it.”

Did I say that? I can’t think. My head hurts so much.

“My wallet was stolen. I couldn’t book a new ticket.”

I pluck my underwear off the floor and slip it on. Then, I put Darren on speakerphone. I need to get moving.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I’m calling you now!” I clasp my hand on my mouth, regretting how loudly I just screamed.