Prologue – Poppy

Enjoy what you have while you have it because one day, something might come and fuck it all up for you.

Well, that’s not exactly how the quote goes, but it’s exactly how it feels now as I stop my brand-new red Audi convertible—a seventeenth-birthday present—in the driveway. I grip the steering wheel, my heart racing as I take in the scene. The distant chatter of police radios fills the air, punctuated by the occasional door slam. The flashing police lights momentarily blind me, casting eerie blue and red shadows on the mansion’s facade.
An FBI agent, all sharp suit and stern face, strides over. “Miss Lockwood?” he asks. Before I can respond, he’s opening my car door. The implied command is clear: Get out.
“What’s going on?” Panic edges my voice. My mind races, trying to find a reason. Could this be about the silly prank I pulled on Ethan Hawthorne? Only some Jell-O in his locker, petty revenge for what he did to my Louboutins. But as I take in the swarm of officers and the gravity on their faces, I realize this is way beyond any high school drama.
“Poppy!” my mother screams, coming out of the house with tears running down her face, ruining her usually perfect makeup. I can hardly recognize her as she stops in front of me. I’d never seen my mother other than perfectly presentable.
“Poppy!” Mom’s voice breaks through my thoughts. She’s a mess, mascara streaking her face. “They’re taking him. They’re taking everything!”
“Taking w—” The rest of the sentence dies on my lips as I see two police officers exit the house with my father walking between them in handcuffs.
“Poppy, calm your mother down! We can’t have the neighbors talking. Remember, appearances are everything…” He doesn’t finish his sentence as the police officer shoves him not so nicely in the back of the patrol car.
I huff; that’s my father in a nutshell—far more worried about what our posh neighbors from Ridge Hill will think of my mother’s outburst than the reasons for him being taken away and our house being invaded by the authorities.
“I’ll take care of her. I’ll go to school and pick up the boys,” I shout at him, suspecting he can’t hear me from the car that is already going down our paved driveway.
I turn to my mother. “Get in the car, we’re go—”
The agent’s grip tightens on my car door. “Sorry, but you’re not going anywhere in this. Everything in Alan Lockwood’s name is now government property.”
I square off with him, scowling at his hand on my car as anger bubbles up. “This is my car. You can’t just take it!” I add, tapping my foot for good measure.
Very mature, Poppy. I can hear my mother’s voice in my head, and she would be telling me off if she was not a crying mess.
“The car, as well as all the assets, are registered to Alan Lockwood and, therefore, are now seized by the US government.” I can’t believe this is happening. Merely hours ago, I was worried about school assignments, and now, our entire world is collapsing. How did we get here?
I keep on scowling, unmoving from my spot in front of the open car door.
“Please step away from the vehicle,” he adds, his previous calm, almost gentle demeanor taking an exasperated edge.
I look at my mother, her distress now making so much more sense.
“Everything, Poppy, they are taking everything.”
My entire life, as I knew it, is unraveling before my eyes. The world I grew up in. The luxuries I took for granted are all crumbling. I’m left standing in the wreckage, wondering what comes next.

Chapter 1 – Nazalie

It was all a mistake. I realized that now, standing in front of Carter King’s desk. His emotionless, cobalt-blue eyes locked on to me. His lips pursed. His big hands lay flat on the desk. He was obviously more than annoyed by my presence in his office and who could blame him.

Physically, Carter King, aka ‘Sin,’ had always been imposing. At six four,’ he had the body of a linebacker. With olive skin, wavy hair so black it looked blue at times, a powerful jaw that seemed chiseled from marble, and full lips, he was so gorgeous it was ridiculous. He looked like one of the cover models on the dark romance novels I shamefully enjoyed so much, except without the photoshop. He was just that beautiful. He had been a force to reckon with even in high school, walking the corridors as if he’d owned the place. In so many ways he had.

I’d thought Carter was a force of nature back then, but now, almost ten years later, I realized that he hadn’t even been close to his full potential. Now he was downright terrifying. And he hadn’t even uttered a word yet.

God, Nazalie. You’ve made the wrong move, girl. I sighed. Desperation was a funny thing; it made you do things against your better instincts.

“Having an internal debate?” he asked flatly as he leaned back in his leather chair. “Since you barged into my office uninvited, I would really like to know what’s going on in that demented head of yours.”

Demented? I frowned. “I’m not demented.”

He cocked an eyebrow, a mocking half-grin settling on his face. “You’ve been harassing my team and secretary for the past few days, then you pull a Houdini past security to stand in the middle of my office, fidgeting like a fish out of water. Your sanity, girl, needs to be questioned.”

“I tried to contact you about my father, but you ignored me.”

He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk. Linking his fingers together, his head hovered over them. “You’ve got five minutes. Use them wisely.”

I realized then that he had no idea who I was. We’d gone to the same high school for three years. He’d spent a lot of that time belittling me and the other kids that had been there on scholarships. Though, I guess, it wasn’t really surprising that he didn’t recognize me. Why would he remember the chubby girl with thick-rimmed glasses and a retainer that had stayed around way too long? The girl who had pretty much been a volunteer for every cause around school and had always earned an eye roll whenever she’d tried to raise awareness.

“My father is a patient at Willows Care Home. I can’t— My place is not safe for him.” I grimaced at the thought of my top-floor box studio apartment, which strangely smelled like cat pee even though I didn’t own a cat. Although there was some black mold growing around that lone single-glass window… Shaking my head, I added, “They’re about to kick him out because I’m a bit late on payments. Please, I—”

“And this is my problem because…?” He trailed off, his face just as impassive as it’d been in school. 

“Because he is a sick old man who needs care,” I growled. “Because he’s worked his entire life at the tire factory and lost everything, including his retirement when King Holdings did a hostile takeover when they replaced the factory with condos. King Holdings is the majority shareholder in the Willows Care Home; this is the right thing to do and—”

“The right thing to do?” he asked, his tone mocking. “I believe you’re mistaking me for a charity, little girl—”

“Nazalie,” I interrupted him. ‘Little girl’ aggravated me. I knew I looked young, but I was his age.

“What?” he asked, frowning with obvious displeasure. He was not a man that took kindly to being interrupted.

“I’m Nazalie Mitchell, not ‘little girl.’ I’m not that young; I’m twenty-eight.”

“Nazalie…” He cocked his head to the side, detailing me with his eerie eyes. He was really looking at me now and I didn’t like that. “You went to Fordham High, didn’t you?”

I nodded once.

His aggressive pose relaxed slightly as he leaned back in his chair. “You’re the goody two-shoes charity case.”

“Scholarship student.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Same difference. Why should I help you?”

“Kindness?”

“Kindness.” He laughed like I’d just said the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “As I said before, I’m not a charity. I’m a businessman. I don’t grant favors unless I’ve got something to gain. What are you offering?”

“I have three jobs right now. My time is…” I chuckled. “I have no time. But I could quit one of my jobs and”—I shrugged—“I don’t know, work for you?”

“In exchange for what? Letting your father stay at Willows?”

I nodded.

He sighed, tapping his forefinger against the desk in an almost hypnotic beat. “Come back tomorrow.”

I shook my head, certain he was just discarding me. “No, I—”

He slammed his hand on his desk, stopping me in my tracks. “I said tomorrow!”

When he stood up, I realized my memory hadn’t rendered him justice. He was not only imposing, he was downright terrifying.

“I could pick up the phone and have you thrown out within five seconds. Hell, you’re so tiny, I could pick you up with one hand and throw you out myself.”

I took a step back instinctively, but my fear didn’t stop my surprise. I was short, sure. I barely grazed five two, but I’d never been called tiny before. No, my clothes had been in the double digits since I’d hit puberty. I was strongly on the ‘curvy’ side of the scale. My figure was not something that bothered me. I had wonderful times. I had gentle boyfriends who loved me exactly how I was, but ‘tiny’ was simply not an adjective people usually used to describe me. Although, I guessed that everything was tiny for this mountain of a man.

I met his eyes, trying to hold them despite the terrifying scowl.

“I don’t appreciate having my words questioned. I said come back tomorrow, so that’s exactly what you’ll do. I have no qualms about throwing you out. When I said come back tomorrow, I meant it. Don’t make me reconsider.”

I nodded, too eager to escape the confines of his office and his overwhelming presence.

“Good.” He took a step back, getting out of my space and allowing me to relax ever so slightly. I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“Tomorrow, ten o’clock. Don’t be late.” The finality in his voice showed he was done with me for today.

I nodded again. It truly seemed that his outburst of exasperation had taken away my ability to speak. I wasn’t used to bullies anymore.

I turned around to leave but then stopped. Tomorrow morning was my waitressing job at the coffee shop. The tips there were always decent on busy mornings. I turned back around.

“What now?”

“I— It’s just— In the morning I have a job and—”

“A job worth more than a stay at Willows?”

That was a stupid question. I could barely pay the Willows’ monthly fees with three jobs, so no, clearly not.

He must have seen that on my face because he nodded sharply. “Ten tomorrow.”

What have I done?

Chapter 1 – Cassie 

They say everybody wants to be famous, be on the covers of the newspapers. That any press is good press, but that is a load of crap! 

The press had been nothing but a curse for me and my little brother, Jude. We were Cassandra and Jude West, the children of the Rivertown Murderers. 

These people… My parents used their small investment firm to embezzle the retirement funds of more than fifteen thousand people in ten years and they had also murdered thirty-two elderly people in an attempt to cover their tracks. 

My face, half hidden behind my messy red hair as I walked out of the court during the trial, even made the first page of our regional paper and I had wanted to disappear on that day. I was not going to court to support them. I was going there—I was not sure why I was going there. 

Maybe part of me hoped they would have the decency to apologize to me and Jude for destroying our lives and making us pariahs because the stigma we were carrying was a heavy cross to bear.

I let out a sigh of relief when my father was sentenced to life without parole and my mother to forty yearsI was there to make sure this whole nightmare would finally end and they would end their lives behind bars. 

I didn’t miss the glares directed my way by the families of the victims every time I took my seat in the back of the room. People didn’t believe that the twenty-year-old daughter of these two sociopaths didn’t know something was wrong, and even if I genuinely had no idea, I couldn’t help but feel guilty. Had I missed anything? Were there signs? 

When I exited the court after the verdict, I looked at my watch and groaned. I only had one afternoon with Jude per week and this final day of trial stole two precious hours from it. 

It has been four months since my life—our lives—spiraled into hell. We had no other family and social services declared I was not fit to take care of my brother and I couldn’t deny it. I was broke; I had to drop out of nursing school, and I was now sleeping on the uncomfortable futon of our old maid who was one of the only people showing me a little compassion. 

I rushed to catch the bus. I had to get to the Home soon as visitation ended at five p.m. 

Seeing my baby brother only an afternoon a week was breaking me. I missed him so much and I was worried sick; he was only ten, way too young to have to deal with all of this. 

No one should be dealing with all of this. 

When I arrived, Amy, the social worker dealing with Jude’s case, was pacing in front of the door. 

“I thought you would not make it,” she said, pulling me into the visitation room. 

“I know!” I gasped breathlessly. “Thank you for waiting.” 

She gave me a small smile. “You deserve someone cutting you some slack,” she said gently, bringing tears to my eyes. 

I was so unused to kindness recently. I had been lucky when she had been assigned my brother’s case. We’d been in the same high school even if she had been a senior when I joined and it created a sort of kinship that I was beyond grateful for. 

She opened the side door and spoke to someone; the door opened wider and my brother rushed in. 

“Cassie!” he shouted, running into my arms. 

I hugged him tightly. He was so short and frail. He might have been ten, but he didn’t look older than seven. He was my little man though; our parents had always been emotionally distant. It has always been Jude and me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be late,” I told him, caressing his dark-blond hair softly. 

He kept his arms around me and lifted his eyes, looking at me with his big, sad green eyes—much too weary for a little boy his age. 

“Are we okay now?” he asked with a small voice. 

I nodded. “Yes, we are. They’re not coming back.” I frowned, noticing the small bruise on his jawline. “What’s that?” I asked, brushing my fingers on it. 

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “I fell.”

I looked up to Amy who looked at us with so much sorrow it cracked my heart open even more. I had to get him out of here. 

“I’ll take you home as soon as I can, li’l man. I swear I will.” 

“I know, Cassie. It’s okay. I’m okay here.” 

No, you’re not. You’re miserable, but you’re trying to be strong for me when you shouldn’t have to, I thought. “I know but I miss having you with me so I want to get you back as soon as possible.” I forced a smile I hoped looked genuine. “Who’s supposed to help me sample brownies now, huh?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m sort of an expert.” 

I chuckled. “Yes, you are.” 

Amy sighed. “I’m sorry, guys, but Jude has to go back now.” 

I looked up and she looked really crestfallen. I was sure she had a soft spot for Jude, but then again, who didn’t? 

I nodded. “I’ll see you next week and we can video chat this week sometimes,” I said before throwing a quick look at Amy who nodded. She did that every week for us, using her own phone to allow Jude and I to talk for a few minutes. That woman really was a godsend and at least she helped us make this horrible situation just a little better. 

“Love you to the moon and back,” he said, hugging me tightly again. 

“Love you to the sun and back,” I replied, kissing the top of his head, already feeling the burn of my unshed tears at the back of my eyes. 

After he left, Amy turned toward me. 

“What really happened?” I asked, knowing full well that Jude’s bruise was not an accident. 

She sighed, shaking her head. “Kids have been tough on him,” she admitted reluctantly. “Being related to…” She winced. “It’s a heavy cross to bear.”

“I know. I’m planning to change our name as soon as I can get him back.” I sat on one of the uncomfortable orange chairs lining the visitation room. 

I knew I had to leave. There was no reason for me to still be here; the center was now closed to the public, but I just needed a few minutes. 

A few minutes with someone who looked at me, not as an accomplice to the monsters my parents were, but as one of their victims. 

“I’m just not convinced that day will ever come,” I admitted, and saying it out loud hurt more than I anticipated. 

“So they refused to take you back, huh?” she asked, coming to sit beside me, gripping my hand in hers. 

I nodded. “Yes, I can’t blame them though. The hospital had a hard time justifying my presence there and since nursing school kicked me out.” I shrugged. “What was the point of me working there anyway?” 

“We can fight their decision, you know. I looked into it and they had no grounds for dismissing you.”

I shook my head. “What’s the point? No one wants me there. The students look at me like I am a monster, the teachers too. And even if I force it, I need hospital training and no hospital will offer that to me.”

“Yeah.” She nodded with resignation. “What about your living situation?” 

“Still squatting on Mrs. Broussard’s futon.” I’d never been more grateful in my life. Mrs. Broussard had been working for my parents since I was five years old and when everything turned to shit, she’d been the only one offering me the helping hand I desperately needed despite her own children’s advice. “I need to give her back her space and stop eating her food.” I looked heavenward. “Nobody is willing to hire me in this town but—” I looked at the door connected to the living quarters my little brother occupied. “I just can’t leave; he needs me.” 

“You remember Ms. Lebowitz, don’t you?” 

I looked at her with confusion at the change of subject. “The high school career counselor?” 

She nodded. “She retired but I know she’s working part-time for the temp agency by the pharmacy.” Amy shrugged. “She always had a soft spot for her old students. Why don’t you go see her?” 

Ms. Lebowitz had been an older lady, an eccentric hippy, but she’d always seen more than she let on. She had known even then that I’d been the one caring for Jude. She was the one who suggested nursing school after seeing my caring nature. 

“I like her. It’s worth the shot.” I looked at my watch; it was much past the time and I didn’t need Amy to get into trouble and have Jude removed from her care due to her involvement with me. “What about Jude and his bruises?” 

“Don’t worry, I’ve moved him into a room with younger kids. He’s okay now.” She answered my unspoken thoughts. 

I threw her a grateful look. “I need to go now. I have to grab my bus.” 

“Let me drive you home, please.” 

I nodded. The bus ride to Mrs. Broussard’s was going to take more than forty-five minutes, and I had to admit that, after the draining day I had, I was more than grateful to accept. 

“Why are you so nice to me”? I asked Amy as we took to the road. “Not that I’m not eternally grateful but—p”

She shrugged. “Call it empathy. I’ve seen you before at the hospital; you genuinely cared about the patients, and the way your brother talks about you? You’re his whole world. I’ve seen a lot of mean, heartless people in my line of work and you’re not one of them. You’re caring and loving and so obviously unaware of your parents’ monstrosities” She threw me a quick look full of concern. “You don’t deserve to be treated the way you are so if I can help ease this injustice just a little…I will.”

I looked away, blinking back my tears. Her words somehow gave me hope. Maybe others would see it too. Maybe others would cut me some slack and help me get Jude back. 

Yes, tomorrow was another day and I would turn the tide, no matter the sacrifices. 

For Jude. 

Chapter 1 – Violet 

“I’m not sure I’m following.” I breathed slowly as I fidgeted in front of Mr. Reynolds’ desk.

He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, his round face much redder than usual. “Well, I’m not sure what there’s to follow here,” he snapped defensively. “This was a six-month training program. The six months are over, so you are not needed anymore.” He pointed at the door behind him. “Turn around and leave.”

Of course, he expected me to bow my head and leave. I was non-confrontational; I always followed every rule and every command to stay under the radar, to make sure I wasn’t too much of a burden on my mother. I just remained like that, even after her passing.

He expected for me to just walk away because he was the marketing director and I was the assistant of his assistant, but it was time for me to put my foot down. It was time for me to ask why, once again, I was losing the little something I had worked so hard to get.

I had nothing left to lose.

Please, God, cut me some slack. I really need a win.

“Sir, I’m sorry to insist, but when we were brought into this apprenticeship program, we were told that the best performer would be offered a permanent position. I’ve been assured through the monthly assessments that I would be offered this position. Mrs. Taylor even asked me to come back this morning to sign my contract and start the permanent position.”

His face grew redder as he adjusted his position on his seat, his imposing belly squeezing against his desk as he leaned forward. “Things change every day in the corporate world, Ms. Murphy. You would know that if you’d tried to educate yourself and didn’t drop out of school at sixteen.”

I inhaled sharply as I took the verbal blow. That one stung more than I expected, especially based on the reason I left school as young as I did.

It had never been my choice—no, it had been just another good thing life had stolen from me.

I blinked and looked down, having lost the small fire of injustice that had been burning—what had driven me to fight for myself.

He sighed. “Listen, companies are going through restructuring all the time—the position that once was to be filled doesn’t exist anymore.”

A flash of red in the corner of my eye attracted my attention, and I looked out the glass office wall to see Mr. Reynolds’ niece sitting at what was my desk for the past few months.

“I see…” I trailed off, too defeated to even try. It was nothing I had done, nothing the company had really done; it was just a simple case of nepotism.

He followed my eyes and glared at his niece, who gave him a sheepish smile before she twisted toward the screen.

Should I feel better that he wanted to hide this from me? Was it to preserve my tender feelings or to make sure I wouldn’t make a scene?

He sighed. “Listen, Violet.”

Ah, it was Violet now, was it? He obviously knew I was bright enough to catch up on the situation.

“You were good, very good even, and you’re not leaving empty-handed. We—” He looked around his desk and stopped on the leather-bound corporate checkbook. “If you’d let me finish before, you’d know that we decided to grant you a gracious, two-week bonus to thank you for all your hard work. Also know that should any entry position become available, your name will be at the top of the list.”

I looked at him as he grabbed the book and wrote me a check. Gracious? This apprenticeship barely paid minimum wage, and I had to work a few nights a week at the dry cleaner down the street just to make ends meet.

I was supposed to start a job today where my salary would have been forty-five thousand dollars a year. Nothing to write home about for most people, but for me… it would have changed my whole life.

Instead, I would leave with broken dreams, wasted time, and a check for… I extended my hand to grab the white piece of paper he extended and read the amount. $932.15?! Was he serious? I looked up at him. That asshole even took out taxes!

“This experience is invaluable, Violet. You’ve spent six months working for one of the biggest real estate companies in California. It’s not negligible, you know, and I’m willing to provide you with a stellar reference should you ever need one.”

I knew what he was not saying. Leave without making a scene, and I’ll help you.

I looked down at the check again. Lord, how I wish I didn’t need the money. That I could just crumple it up and shove it so deep down his throat he wouldn’t be able to breathe anymore.

I recoiled. Where did that even come from? I was not violent, never had been, but this compulsion…

It’s in your genes.

I shook my head and blinked as tears burned the back of my eyes.

“I… Yes, thank you, sir.” I was thanking the man who probably stole my only chance to make it out of my situation, just to give the job to his spoiled niece, who only wanted it as a whim or as a punishment.

“Don’t mention it. I wish you all the luck in the world.”

I nodded silently, completely exhausted and out of words, and turned around to leave.

“Violet?” he called just as I reached the door.

I turned my head toward him, hope blossoming in my heart against my own advice. Maybe he realized it was unfair, maybe he found a solution. Maybe he just—

“Don’t forget to leave your badge with security downstairs.”

My heart plummeted once again as shame at my own stupidity joined my other raging emotions.

I should have known better… When did life really cut people like me some slack?

I pulled the strap of my thrift store handbag higher on my shoulder and walked down the corridor with as much dignity as I could muster, trying to respond to the small, sad smiles people were giving me along the way.

Sandra, an assistant for the finance department, snuck into the elevator just as the door closed on me.

“It’s bullshit!” she spat, her cheeks red and eyes shining with a self-righteousness that somehow made me feel both better and worse.

“What is?”

“Everything!” She made a wide gesture with her hands, forcing me to take a sidestep to avoid getting poked in the eye by one of her sharp, pointy nails. “That fucking old pervert once again fucked this company by hiring one of his backward relatives, and no one bats an eye,” she huffed. “I swear, that man knows something to get away with that much shit.”

I agreed with her, of course. I had seen a lot of shit in the past six months, including the leering looks he had no place giving young women barely in adulthood, but I was not in the mood to fuel the fire. I was angry, yes, but mostly sad and tired, which all wrapped up in an overwhelming sense of defeat and doom.

“It is what it is.” I shrugged, willing the elevator to make its way down just a little faster.

It is what it is… The story of my life.

“I’m going to be fine; I’m not worried.” Maybe if I said that enough, I’ll believe it. I sighed with relief as the elevator beeped, announcing my destination had been reached. “You better go back up now before you get into trouble. See you around,” I added, quickly exiting the enclosed space, tightening my hold around the plastic pass in my hand, feeling it bite painfully in my palm.

I stopped by the white reception desk and met Reginald, who gave me the same sorry eyes as they did upstairs. He was from the same part of town as me, so he knew the extent of the opportunity that had been stolen from me.

“I’m sorry, little one,” he said soothingly, resting his big hand on top of mine.

I looked down at his gentle gesture and my shaky composure cracked, letting a few burning tears escape.

Reginald was a gentle father figure who had been showing me nothing but kindness since my first day here and had managed to make me feel comfortable when I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“You’re twenty-one, baby girl; you’ll get back on your feet. I know you will.”

I sniffled, still keeping my eyes down, looking at my few tears shining on the white counter.

He squeezed my hand. “Let me call you an Uber; you deserve it. The company owes you this ride.”

“Thank you.” Normally I would have said no, fearing he would get into trouble.

But I didn’t feel like making the thirty-five-minute, two-bus trip back home wearing an itchy dress and the uncomfortable heels I bought at the charity shop down the street to help me look professional.

I had felt like a fraud all the way here, and now, on top of a fraud, I felt like a failure.

“The car will be out in a couple of minutes.”

“Thanks, Reginald… for everything.”

“You’re welcome, little one. Don’t be a stranger.”

I walked out, deciding to wait for the car outside, hoping the warm sun would help me feel a little better.

I got my phone out and called Jake. I needed my boyfriend right now. I needed him to make me feel better, even if he had warned me from the start not to get my hopes up.

The phone went straight to voicemail. He was probably in ‘the zone,’ working on some of his freelance projects.

I sighed, putting the phone back in my bag as a green sedan slowed and stopped in front of me.

“Car for Violet?”

“Yes, thank you.”

I sat in the back and instead of giving him my address, I gave him Jake’s. He lived much farther from the downtown area and somehow, the small pettiness of knowing this ride would cost them double to take me there, instead of my small studio apartment, made me feel a little better. I was sticking it to the man—even if it was for a meager thirty dollars.

Jake didn’t live in my run-down neighborhood. He’d managed to escape and take a few steps up the ladder of life and live in an area with fewer guns than people. He ‘made it,’ as he loved to repeat every chance he had.

I was sure he could take a break from his current project and make me feel better. I closed my eyes and leaned against the headrest, letting the car vibrations lull me and relieve some of the stress.

I couldn’t help but wince at the thought of going back to work at Sunset Strip, the supposedly ‘high-end’ gentlemen’s club that was harboring the same type of perverts as cheap strip clubs had, except clients had thicker wallets… and blacker hearts.

I sighed, opening my eyes and meeting the driver’s curious gaze just before he looked at the road again.

I could already picture Liam’s smirk when I go back and ask for my barmaid job back. How he would give me part two of the speech he gave me when I told him I was leaving. He would tell me, yet again, that Sunset Strip was a family and you don’t just walk away from your family. Then, in his magnanimous kindness, and in memory of his father and my mother, he would give me my job back.

I couldn’t help the little grunt of annoyance that escaped my mouth at the thought.

“You belong here, Violet, like your mother. Why are you trying so hard to make it out?” Because I didn’t want the same life she had; because she wanted nothing more than for me to make it out. Because I owed it to her to try my hardest.

“Hello? Miss?”

My eyes shot open and I looked out of the window, startled to have been nudged out of my thoughts.

I stared at Jake’s small bungalow across the street, trying to regroup my thoughts and composure, at least long enough to tell him everything.

”Is it the wrong address?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the irritation in his voice.

“No, I’m sorry.” I shook my head and opened the door. “It’s right, sorry.”

He mumbled something under his breath, and I’d barely closed the door behind me before the car had shot off.

I crossed the street and stopped on the sidewalk, frowning at the small red car parked just behind Jake’s Volvo.

It was quite a popular little car, yet something made me take a few tentative steps toward it as a bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

My frown deepened as I noticed the pair of mini red stilettos dangling from the rearview mirror. It might have been a very common car, but that keepsake? It wasn’t.

This was Serena’s car. Serena, my supposed friend and one of the most popular strippers at Sunset. Serena, who lived on the other side of town and who had only met Jake twice before.

I turned toward the house and walked slowly as the bad feeling turned into ice in my stomach.

The closer I got to the front door, the more I was hyperventilating, imagining the worst.

There must be an explanation. It could just be a coincidence.

Jake wouldn’t do that to me, not after all the things I’ve been through. I told him I wanted to wait, that my virginity had value to me, and he said he was okay with that. He said he would wait as long as necessary, and despite being together for over a year, he’d never pressured me. I was scared to find out now why it might have been the case.

Bile rose in my throat as I reached the front door, unsure I wanted to face what could be happening or, if nothing sordid was happening, face my own unwarranted mistrust. I thought I was past my trust issues. I thought I was ready for the next steps in this relationship, but if a simple coincidence could shake the whole foundation of our relationship, then maybe I was not quite there yet.

I raised my hand to knock but thought better of it, and looked around, trying to figure out where he hid the emergency key.

I looked under the potted plants on his patio and under the door mat without any luck before I remembered he bought this stupid fake stone during one of our Target trips.

I looked around and, despite the worry brewing inside me, I smiled when I noticed it at the foot of the bushes brushing the wooden stairs.

I grabbed it and let out a little huff of relief when I found the key nestled inside it.

If nothing seedy was happening, he’ll probably question my uninvited pop-in, but I was too concerned to think more of it right now.

I opened the door slowly and didn’t have to question my decision as I heard a guttural moan of pleasure.

I tightened my hold on the key, feeling its ridges on my palm as I took one slow step after the other, trying to make sure he would not hear my stupid square heels thunk against his wooden flooring.

The closer I got to his room, the louder he became. I could also hear Serena call his name, asking him to fuck her harder with his big, fat cock.

I stopped, resting my hand against the wall as my stomach heaved violently.

I almost wished I could vomit right now and have him clean it after he sealed my horrible day with the worst betrayal.

I shook my head. I had enough! I couldn’t continue to torture myself, listening to the sound of their pleasure. They needed to know that I knew.

The door of the bedroom was ajar, and I shoved it open, making it slam against the wall—the lovely yellow wall I’d painted for him last month.

How fucking stupid had I been! I wanted to help him have a nice home—where I thought I would move into one day, but clearly, not in the optic to have him fuck another woman.

Despite knowing what I was going to find, it was almost too much to see.

Her, on all fours, on top of the sunflower bedspread I had picked to match the room, and him, fisting her long ponytail as he hammered into her from behind, his head thrown back in pure abandon.

She shrieked when she saw me and fell face-first onto the bed.

He looked back and his face shifted from unadulterated pleasure to shock in an instant, and despite the ripping pain, I felt a little better knowing I’d ruined his pleasure—just as he’d just ruined a year of my life.

I would not become my mother!

I turned around and started to run when he shouted my name. I ran out and down the street, my vision blurry with tears and my legs wobbling, both from the painful turmoil inside me and the heels I was not used to wearing.

I heard him call my name again and realized he was following me into the street!

Fuck! I ran faster, despite my burning eyes compromising my vision. I took random side streets just to ditch him.

I crossed a street without looking—a mistake, one of many, really—but the one I realized was going to cost me my life as I saw the shape of a black car come racing toward me.

My ankle twisted as my heel met an unevenness in the middle of the road, and I fell heavily.

I heard the horn, the squealing of the tires, and closed my eyes tightly, bracing for impact.

Yep, I was going to die today, in disgrace and in shame… It was ironic how things had come full circle.

I was going to die the same way I was born.