Chapter 58

After leaving Yvaine's party, Rhys and Catherine didn't say a word.

Neither of them had the energy to pretend.

The whole night had been one long marathon of humiliation, and they were both too pissed to bother hiding it.

At the curb, Rhys pulled his coat tighter and grunted,"Wait here. I'll get the car."

"Fine," Catherine muttered.

He'd barely turned the corner when some guy jumped out of the flowerbed, nearly scaring Catherine to death.

"Cathy!" the boy hissed.

He couldn't have been older than twenty, and he was wearing a rent-a-cop uniform two sizes too big.

She recognized him instantly and dragged him right back behind the bushes by the scruff of his sleeve.

Her nails dug into his arm.

"Are you insane?" she hissed, wild-eyed. "I told you not to contact me! How the hell did you even find me?If anyone sees us-Jesus, I'm screwed."

He shook her off and flicked a half-smoked cigarette onto the ground.

"Couldn't reach you on the phone," he said with a shrug. "Had to come find you myself."

Her mouth twitched like she wanted to slap him,or scream-or both. "What do you want?"

"Money.What else?"

She froze.

"Dad's getting worse. Docs say surgery's non-negotiable. It's gonna cost two hundred grand. You're going to give it to me."

Catherine's face changed quickly.

She'd just been bled by Yvaine for fifteen grand

Another two hundred K?

She didn't have that kind of cash lying around in her purse.

She eyed him, arms crossed, one brow lifted high enough to scrape the moon. "Is he really that sick? Or did you gamble yourself into another hole?"

The boy's jaw twitched.

He hesitated for just a second. "Of course it's Dad.You think I'd lie to you?"

She didn't even bother to hide the disbelief in her voice. "You've gambled it away again, haven't you?|told you, I can't keep bailing you out. If you're not going to quit, then I'm done. I'm not your bloody ATM."

The boy snatched out his phone and shoved it in her face. "Look! The doctor messaged me!"

She didn't even look at the screen.

Could have been porn or pizza coupons for all she cared. "I don't have the money."

"Bullshit!" he shouted. "You're Rhys Granger's side piece. One of his gifts to you probably costs more than my old man's surgery!"

That hit home.

Catherine's face drained to a pale, waxy white. "I'm not-"

"We blew so much cash on you back then," the boy spat. "And now when it's me and my dad needing help,you're suddenly broke?"

Her lips parted,shaky, like she'd just been slapped. "I'm not... not a side piece. Rhys and I, we're together.Properly."

"Even better," he scoffed. "Thought I heard he ditched Mirabelle Vance. So what's the holdup? Why hasn't he put a ring on it?"

Catherine took a sharp breath.

Then another.

Like she was trying to bottle her panic and save it for later.

"I'll send you the money. In a few days. Just go. If anyone sees you, it's over for me."

The boy didn't budge. "A few days? How many's a few?""Ten."

"That's too long!"

"Fine! Three. Now go!"

"Fine. But if that money's not in my account by day three... you know what I can do." He bolted before she could answer, disappearing down the street.

The second he vanished, Rhys's car rolled up to the curb.

Catherine clenched her fists so hard her nails dug little half-moons into her palm.

She slid into the passenger seat like nothing had happened.

Rhys glanced at her lazily as he pulled back into traffic."Saw you chatting with someone just now. Friend of yours?"

Catherine forced a breath, smiling like she hadn't just been blackmailed behind a hedge.

The music in the car helped drown out the thudding in her chest.

"No. Just someone asking for directions."

"Right," Rhys muttered, eyes on the road. "Figured. No way you'd hang out with someone wearing knock-off trainers."

Catherine bit down on her lip, nodded, and forced a laugh. "Yeah. Exactly."

To Rhys, Catherine was still the same spoiled little debutante, born to designer shoes and Sunday brunches.

Even after moving abroad, she'd been living the rich-girl dream, at least according to her Instagram updates.

The idea that she might know someone outside his curated little world was simply unthinkable.

They drove in silence for a while.

She stared out the window like it might show her a way out.

Finally,she spoke.

Sweet. Careful. Like someone testing the temperature of bathwater before diving in.

"Rhys... I saw this bag the other day. Really pretty. But I'm short on cash."

"How much?"

"Two hundred thousand."

That got his attention.

His head snapped to her, brows pulling into that tight little V he always wore when his mood soured.

Which, lately, was all the damn time.

"I already paid for your flights and hotels in France.What the hell do you need two hundred grand for?"

Catherine pouted. "But it's the last one, Rhys. Limited edition. They're not making it again. I've literally never wanted anything more in my life."

Rhys didn't budge. "You don't need a handbag that costs two hundred grand."

Catherine leaned in.

Close enough that her hair brushed his arm,her breath on his cheek.

She murmured something low against his ear.

His mouth twitched. "W/ith your mouth?"

"And anywhere else you like. I'll wear the red corset."

He exhaled hard through his nose. "Yeah, alright."