Fraud (Antihero Inferno #2) - Lily White Page 0,25

entire football team this time, right? Oh, and I’m sure Shane had something to do with it. That asshole is always causing problems.”

Shane, for as jaw-droppingly gorgeous as he is, has always been trouble. Even more so than the rest of the guys. If chaos erupts, you can bet your ass he started it.

“Ezra wasn’t there,” she answers, her voice soft. “He’s angry about it, actually, but won’t tell me why. And yes, Shane was there. He was arrested, too.”

Now that does surprise me.

“I’m shocked Shane got caught for once.”

She laughs. “Me too.”

The doorbell rings on her end of the line, another groan escaping her lips.

“That must be Ezra, which means I need to go. Have fun tonight, and be sure to send me footage.”

We hang up, and I spend another hour getting ready to go out. I should be excited to be free for a while, to dance and drink and burn off the anxiety that is a constant companion these days.

Unfortunately, I already know the night will just be another disappointment.

Oh, sure, I’ll post videos and other proof of the amazing life I’m living, but if anybody were to peek beneath the surface of the two faces I show the world, they would find that the truth is I’m dying a slow, agonizing death, and that I’ve never been the girl everybody assumes I am.

Ivy

“Room service.”

A deep voice drags me kicking and screaming from the blessed oblivion of sleep, a knock at my bedroom door kickstarting my mind into a storm of confusion.

I know damn well I haven’t ordered room service at whatever ungodly early hour of the morning it is. And even if I did, they wouldn’t walk into my suite to deliver it.

Half in a fog as I force myself to consciousness, I roll my body beneath the warmth of my blankets and blink open my eyes.

For the love of everything holy, please fucking tell me I’m dreaming...

Panic sets in instantly, my heart rate climbing from a slow, safe beat to that of a jackhammer attempting to break free of my ribs.

I blink again and shake the hair from my face as I push up onto an elbow. The prayers I’m silently tossing up are left unanswered when the illusion of a nightmare doesn’t fade.

Nooooooooooo...

This is not fucking happening.

“Gabriel?”

He grins, that damn smile his biggest lie. You have to look in his eyes to see the truth, have to peer into the beauty of emerald green to witness the pain and anger that lives beneath.

Maybe I’m the only person who can see it. I highly doubt he’s made the mistake of revealing who he really is to anybody else.

“Good morning, love. Are you happy to see me?”

Yes and no, which is the screwed-up part. Does my body react every time he’s nearby? Hell yes it does. Does my stupid heart pound when I catch sight of him? Also a yes.

But am I also terrified because I know the hell this man is about to rain down?

You bet your ass I am.

I won’t show him that, though. He’s like a wild animal on the hunt, a rabid dog that’s broken his leash and is stalking forward.

Showing him the first sign of fear will only quicken his attack, which is why I need to remain calm to buy myself time.

This can be handled. Just like all the other times I’ve dodged him and run like hell. As soon as I can get in touch with Scott, he’ll arrive in his chariot and whisk me off to safety.

It takes effort to shrug my fear off like Gabriel’s presence is no big deal, and I have to swallow several times to dislodge the knot of terror in my throat to answer him. Somehow, I manage it.

“How did you find me?”

Another grin, the line of it edged with the promise of all the horrible things he wants to do to me. I deserve some of those things. There’s no question about that. But he started this entire mess and should just let it go.

“The cleaning staff at your house hate you as much as I do,” he croons with a silky soft voice that sends shivers down my spine.

Damn it. The only reason I let anybody at my house know where I am is so they can forward me any packages that arrive unexpectedly. Somebody is about to be fired for this. I’m just not sure which one blabbed.

Then again, maybe that’s a bit harsh. They can’t be blamed for believing