The Billionaire’s Heart (His Submissive #4)(3)
Author: Ava Claire

“Don’t be silly,” I said with a wave of my hand. “I was the one that made you take it, remember?” I hoped for a grin when he remembered our exchange. Before he finally answered the phone he’d given me an achingly mischievous smile and joked about tossing it in the water. But he didn’t take the walk down memory lane. He was still watching me skeptically. Waiting for me to tell him what was really wrong.

“You’re being ridiculous!” I let out a laugh that came out as a strangled sob. I immediately covered my mouth, but it was too late. The worry was dialed up to fifty as he gripped my hands.

"Jesus Christ, Leila–tell me what’s going on!"

"I–" Tell him, Lay! "It’s just–" My cell vibrated in my pocket, cutting through any sort of confession.

It was Rachel.

I swallowed the truth and racked my mind for some excuse I could put in its place. The whole not feeling well thing was kind of weak. I needed something more meaty—something that could explain it all and pack a big punch.

My family. God help me…I was going to use my family.

"It’s—” I gulped. “It’s my dad.”

Jacob’s brow furrowed. “Your dad?”

The knot in my throat became a boulder as I kept up the ruse. “Y-Yes. He’s kind of sick so I’m just worried."

Jacob slackened his hold, something unreadable flashing in his gaze before he said anything. "I’m sorry, Leila. I hope it’s not serious.”

I was hoping the ‘kind of’ would keep me from having to lie any further or make up some horrible affliction that would just dig me deeper. “I don’t think it’s serious, but my mother has been a wreck.” I dug my nails into my thigh beneath the table. I had to stop talking. I was becoming a real life parable of how a little lie becomes a living, breathing monster.

Jacob’s eyes darkened with worry. “If you need to go home, I’ll arrange it."

"No," I said quickly. When he gave me a weird look, I forced a smile. "I mean, I appreciate it, but that’s not necessary.” I swallowed. “I just need a minute. In the bathroom." I jerked back from the table and stumbled away before I lost my nerve.

Once I stepped into the bathroom, I booked it into a stall, nausea forcing me to take a handful of deep breaths to keep from retching all over the floor.

I snapped upright when I felt my phone shudder again. I ripped it from my pocket.

-well??? Rachel’s text barked.

-in broom. I plucked out. My thumb froze over the ‘send’ button. Damn her for putting me in this position. If she’d never… If I never…

I pressed the ‘send’ button and slumped against the stall door. The bitter taste of dread choked me as I thought of how worried Jacob had been all day. How he’d tried to cheer me up. We’d been on our way to having a great day, the best day, until Rachel showed her face.

And then the lie about my father. Jesus freaking Christ. I needed a time machine, some way to go back and use the sick excuse, no matter how weak. Using family was playing dirty.

Jacob will understand, I thought frantically. He had to. I’d tell him that Rachel threatened him. That she threatened me. He’d understand. And then he’d sweep me into his arms and…He’d take my hand and…the sunset…

Now I really was being delusional. This wasn’t a movie. And even if it was, I’d seen this scenario play out on the screen a million times. It was always the lie was that drove the couple apart. My lie would destroy everything I’d been desperately trying to build.

I threw open the door of the stall, hyperventilating as I looked into the mirror. What the hell had I done? Since when did I bend for someone who didn’t have my best interests at heart? When did I become Rachel Laraby’s bitch?

I splashed some water on my face and rolled my shoulders back. This was a mistake. One I had to fix NOW.

I pushed back into the lobby of the restaurant, the conversations around me reduced to mere whispers. There was nothing except the stiletto tap of my shoes and the orchestra of nerves inside me. Heart thumping out of my chest. Throat as dry as the Sahara. Hands so shaky they could barely hold onto my clutch. And when I saw Rachel reach across the table and grip Jacob’s hand, anger that turned every color red.

When Jacob spied me his face ran amuck with emotion. Like he was trying to apologize to me.

My heart seized in my chest. She hadn’t told him anything?

She turned her head and it was almost as terrifying as that scene from The Exorcist. Her jade eyes filled with delight and two words fell from her scarlet lips: ‘Good job’.

Jacob was the first to speak, his eyes screaming ‘this isn’t what it looks like’. "Leila was just in the neighborhood." He winced, realizing how ridiculous that sounded.

Well hold on tight, you ain’t heard nothin’ yet. "Jacob, there’s something I need to-"

"How much did we decide on, Leila?" Rachel interrupted. “One thousand? Two?”

Jacob looked at her, then looked at me, then back to Rachel. "Decide on?"

Rachel let out a weary sigh as she reached for her purse and pulled out her check book. "I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Jacob, but clearly Leila stormed out here to ensure payment."

"Payment?! We never discussed–" My mouth hung agape as all the pieces fell into place. “You bitch!”

“Calling names.” She tsked like I was some disobedient child. “That will certainly prove that you have nothing to hide.”

I didn’t know what to be angry about first. That I was dumb enough to let her bully me at all, or that I played right into her hand. She wasn’t going to tell anyone anything about the contracts–at least not anytime soon. She just wanted to set me up.

"What the hell is going on here?" Jacob thundered, anger quickly replacing his confusion as he threw his napkin on the table.

Rachel was as cool as a cucumber as she reached for my glass of wine. "I’m sure she’ll have some conspiracy story because she’s trying to cover her tracks." She winked at me. "But we both know the truth, don’t we, Leila?"

"She’s full of it,” I hissed. I just had to focus on Jacob. Only Jacob. “The truth is–" I stalled when I saw his face harden to stone. "The truth is…I…"

Now was my chance to set the record straight. The thing was, part of it would exonerate me, but the other part would incriminate me. There was no way I could put Rachel on blast without burning myself. And I just couldn’t get out the words that could destroy everything.