Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 73462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
River flinches before I can finish the statement.
Good. I don’t want to say it in front of everyone here anyway.
Jake clears his throat. “I’m Jake.” His voice is deep with a hint of sadness in it, an exhaustion that makes me pause.
He’s thinner than Brett and River, and there’s something hollow behind his piercing blue eyes.
His resemblance to Misty is undeniable.
I glance at Brett. His entire body is shaking despite Sienna holding onto him. His jaw is locked so tight I swear I can hear the grinding of his teeth.
This isn’t just shock.
This is devastation.
The kind of devastation that comes from losing something you never thought you’d get back.
No one moves.
No one breathes.
A pause. A beat.
Then Brett lets out a ragged breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s Jake,” he says again. “And he’s supposed to be dead.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and final.
Sienna gasps.
River closes his eyes, exhaling slowly.
Jake shifts on his feet, his expression unreadable.
And I stand there in complete ignorance of what is unfolding around me.
Brett lets out a bitter laugh, but there’s no humor in it. It’s hollow, sharp, edged with something dangerous.
I feel sick.
“Tell me this is some kind of joke,” Brett whispers. “Tell me this isn’t real.”
Jake exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m real, buddy. I’m here.”
My head spins. My body sways.
River takes a step toward me, but I recoil.
“Don’t,” I snap, voice raw. “Don’t come near me right now.”
His face hardens. “Emily, let me explain.”
I shake my head again, wrapping my arms around myself.
I don’t want explanations.
I want River back. I want him to return my love.
Something cold grips my chest.
Brett’s pain is written all over him. He’s barely holding himself together, his entire body trembling with the force of it.
Sienna places her other hand on his arm. He doesn’t shake her off, but he doesn’t relax either.
Silence stretches among us, thick and heavy.
I look back at Jake, at his wary expression, at the ghosts haunting his blue eyes.
There’s more to this. I know there is.
I lick my lips, trying to steady my voice.
“Tell me,” I say. “Tell me everything.”
River looks at Jake.
Jake looks at Brett.
And Brett looks like he might break apart right in front of us.
But no one says a word.
Not yet.
Until June comes barreling toward us, clad only in a towel. “Why do you all look so glum?” Then she turns to Jake, a smile lighting up her pretty face. “And who might you be?”
EPISODE 193
HEATHER’S STORY
Heather
Darby Sullivan, the new doctor on the island, is quite the looker with gorgeous hair—I could do magic with a little layering—and sparkling green eyes.
She’s telling June and me—Evangeline and Misty excused themselves a few minutes earlier—about her family practice in Miami when June walks away while Darby is in the middle of a sentence.
Darby pauses, blinking after her. “Was it something I said?”
“Honestly, I have no idea.”
June’s an odd bird. Sure, we’ve had our fun. Shocking how good she is at licking pussy. But something about her doesn’t quite add up, and I can’t put my finger on it.
It’s like she’s not real.
Then again, who am I to talk?
I’ve spent years perfecting the art of reinvention. A charming smile, a perfectly tousled head of my black-and-blue hair, a laugh that sounds just the right amount of carefree. I play the part of the ambitious hairstylist, the woman who wants a taste of the high life, who’s ready to secure a billionaire husband and upgrade her existence. And most people believe it.
Because the truth? No one would understand.
When Sebastian asked me about my viper tattoo, I told him I was an open book…except for the tattoo.
I don’t talk about it. So don’t ever ask me about it again. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter. I don’t need to hear an apology, or an “I didn’t know,” or a “You can tell me anything, baby, and I’ll understand.” Because trust me. You won’t understand.
And he won’t.
As for an open book…
The truth is far more complex.
Sure, Heather Hill is an open book.
But Heather Hill is a damned illusion.
The hairstylist from Pasadena, the woman who followed Sebastian Tate all over Europe…
Sure, she exists, but—
“I’m not sure why I’m even here,” Darby is saying, interrupting my thoughts. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a healthier group of people. Is everyone here good-looking?”
I laugh. “It’s a matchmaking event with billionaires who are all freaking gorgeous. And you’re beautiful yourself.”
She takes a sip of her drink. “I’m just here to do a job. I mean, when I got a call from Evangeline saying I could have an all-expenses-paid trip to a private tropical island in exchange for putting Band-Aids on boo-boos, it was a no-brainer.”
She has no idea.
This island isn’t just about billionaire pairings and luxury. It’s a game, a battlefield where people like me fight to carve out a place in a world that isn’t ours.