Chapter 4

In the six months since Chloe started working for Adrian, I'd met her a few times.

Every time, she greeted me respectfully — "Bella" this, "Bella" that — playing the part of a well-mannered, sensible young woman.

I used to think she was just an ordinary girl.

Now I knew she was very good at pretending.

I had barely stepped out of the Black Group building when Chloe called out from behind me.

"Bella."

I stopped.

She hurried to catch up, that hollow sweetness plastered across her face.

"There are some things you might not have the full picture on. I'd like to explain."

"No need."

I turned to leave.

But she stepped in front of me, as if what she had to say couldn't wait.

"I'm only thinking of what's best for you. Maybe this will help you handle things with Boss."

She knew full well that I was the Boss. Yet she called me "Bella" and called Adrian "Boss."

I looked at her and said nothing.

She went on. "The truth is, Boss doesn't dislike pasta. When he's with me, he eats every kind."

"Handmade beef-shank pasta, seafood pasta, pasta from little hole-in-the-wall places, instant pasta, spicy pasta."

"So many kinds. He's had them all with me."

"Pasta is like people, you know? It has to feel fresh, or you lose your appetite."

Everything she said was designed to imply that I was no longer fresh enough.

A cold smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"What exactly are you trying to say? That you're the fresh plate of pasta he can't get enough of?"

Chloe waved her hand with exaggerated innocence.

"That's not what I mean. I'm just saying — he doesn't want to eat pasta with you, and the reason is something worth thinking about."

"Oh, and this afternoon, Boss and I are flying to Miami for a three-day business trip."

She paused, then added deliberately.

"Honestly, it's nothing he needs to handle in person. But Boss is such a good man."

"He found out I've never been to Miami, so he's taking me along. Said he wants to show me the fireworks over Biscayne Bay."

Her eyes held the brazen confidence that only comes from being someone's favorite.

She was waiting for me to rage, to lose control, to make a scene.

But I looked at her the way you look at a clown.

"This good man of yours — enjoy him."

I turned around again.

She chased after me and blocked my path, finally dropping the act.

"Since you've already figured it out, I'll stop pretending."

"Those shoes — I wore them on purpose."

"I'm already using your man, so of course I can use your things too."

"Oh, and that box of condoms in your bedside drawer? Not great. The ones Adrian uses with me are rose-scented."

"He can go for over two hours with me every time."

"Your bed isn't very comfortable either. Not as nice as the million-dollar mattress he bought for mine."

Blood rushed to the top of my skull.

I raised my hand and slapped her across the face. Hard.

"Disgusting."

"Bella!"

Adrian's shout rang out almost at the same instant.

He rushed over and shielded Chloe, whose face was still turned from the impact.

Chloe immediately grabbed onto him, putting on her gracious, understanding mask.

"Boss, don't be upset. Bella just heard that we're going to Miami for three days and got a little unhappy."

"She's probably worried it'll interfere with your wedding trip in five days."

Adrian looked at me with open displeasure, as though making me a promise.

"I'll be back before the wedding trip."

"It absolutely won't affect our plans."

"Stop being unreasonable. Apologize to Chloe."

I found it laughable.

So I raised my hand and slapped him too.

"What makes you think I still want you?"