The Note (Manhattan Nights #5) - Natalie Wrye Page 0,66

dress swaying high as she hightails it to the second floor.

I climb the stairs two at a time, moving fast.

SOPHIA

Packing a bag isn’t hard…when you don’t have much to pack.

As many items decorate the inside of Noah’s and my assigned bedroom, very few of them are mine and I pile my remaining clothes, my threadbare dresses, shirts and winter wear into my weekend bag.

The room is more grandiose than any item in my wardrobe, the carpet softer and I stomp over the damn thing as I head for the bathroom.

Swiping my toothbrush from inside, I head back into the adjoining bedroom, head down only to find a surprised Noah in the doorway, his blue eyes wide as he shuts the door behind him, his movements steady.

I drop the brush into my bag. “What are you doing here, Noah? Why are you following me? Is this another test? Another round of revenge I somehow haven’t recognized? Humiliate me by making me come here to eat brunch amongst people who could buy me twice over? Embarrass me at the gallery in front of my boss, in front of my friends? Made me do your bidding? What else?”

I plant my hands on my hips, staring at the surreal-looking man in front of me.

I look silly. I know I look silly.

In my floral-patterned dress and sweater, attempting to look nice amongst the Chanel and Dior couture, I look like someone’s poor adopted sister.

A charity case.

The other guests might laugh at us, if they could just see us now.

The lowly inner city girl trying to clean up, yelling at the blue blood man born in couture.

And through my rage, Noah stands there, staring at me. Despite being rain-drenched from bringing in wedding presents from outside, he looks perfect, ever the dark prince—a deep contrast from me, a woman who once believed the Gap™ was couture.

We were worlds apart.

Noah Quinn was just a reminder of all that I wasn’t. As if I needed another.

Drew was wrong; not that my dear friend had the habit of ever being perpetually right—or even on time.

I was better off at The Alchemist. Waiting on bankers who would make my life a living hell.

I couldn’t outrun who’d I’d been. And I couldn’t forget it.

At least I wouldn’t have to pretend anymore.

Pretend that I wasn’t what I had been in the past. Pretend that I could be more. Pretend that I’d find my fairytale life of safety and security.

The life that my parents could never provide.

I hold my ground—and my hands up in the air, as I demand an answer. “What else do you want from me?

I shake my head, my eyes filling with tears I refuse to let fall. “You’ve got what you wanted: Proof that I’m a poor liar. Nothing more than a criminal. A thief. You’ve shown that I’m shit, and you’re not. That I don’t have a pot to piss in and that yours is platinum. That you’re rich and wealthy and sophisticated and perfect, and that I will never be any of those things. You no longer need my help to find a watch. You can go to that Benny’s Pizza place by yourself and find it.” I blink fast, breathing deep. “Or am I not humbled enough for you?”

The words are barely out of my mouth before he destroys the distance between us, traversing the living room space in just a few steps. He grabs my chin in one hand, his dark blue eyes ablaze—almost alit in the dimmed glow from my nearby lamps.

The amber illumination highlights the many facets in his oceanic eyes, and my heart seizes, completely stopped as he stares down at me.

“What else do you I want from you?” His eyes flitter from one eye to the next as his stare burns into mine. His dark brows lower. “I’m not going to lie: A piece of me wanted to see you at my feet. To bring you there. To debase you.” He blinks. Just once. “That part of me left about two hours ago.”

He sighs, inhaling a breath so heavy that I feel it, too. His blue eyes glimmer. “I told you this already, Little Bear. But you don’t seem to get it yet. So let me refresh your memory… I want what I wanted from you the first night we met, the first time I tasted that awful tequila with you and listened to your absurdly loud laugh.”

He lowers his chin. “I want to be with you. To feel your body