Page 45 of The Malibu Destiny

My fingers tap a staccato rhythm against the leather armrest as I check my Rolex for the third time in five minutes.

"Just a few more minutes," Jack says, nodding toward the vintage wall clock. "Though fair warning—you might want to brace yourself when you see who's in there with her."

"Let me guess. Walsh?" The name tastes bitter on my tongue.

I get my answer with the unmistakable lilt of an Irish accent as Blake emerges from behind the beaded curtain. He wraps Lilith in a lingering embrace, his lips brushing her cheek. My knuckles go white. The muscles in my jaw twitch. After that ambush from my brothers this morning, my self-control hangs by a thread.

Blake spots me first while Lilith turns away to straighten her reading room. His eyes widen in recognition before he quickly adopts an innocent expression, gliding past as if we're strangers. The look I return could freeze hell itself.

I push through the beaded curtain into Lilith's reading room. The scent of sage hits me first, then I see her—back turned, arranging crystals and shuffling cards on the velvet-draped table. When she spins around, her face brightens. "Roman! What a nice surprise!"

My jaw tightens. The image of Blake's arms around her, his lips pressed to her cheek, flashes through my mind. Add that to the ambush my brother just pulled, and I'm a powder keg with a lit fuse.

I came here thinking she'd calm me down. Big mistake. Now jealousy's crawling under my skin like fire ants.

She moves in for a hug. I stand there, arms dead at my sides. Something flickers in her eyes—hurt, confusion—before she retreats to her side of the table. "So," she says, matching my frost with her own. "How are you?"

I drop into the red velvet chair across from hers, forearms on the table. "I wanted your take on something, but now..." I exhale. "Hell if I know why I'm even here."

She nods. “Take?”

I sigh, rubbing the tension at the back of my neck. "Yeah. My father wants to use my name to launch his own resort chain. It'll be one of those eco-friendly resorts—you know the type. Gleaming solar panels catching the California sun, reclaimed water trickling through designer fountains, recycled wood polished to a high shine. They'll serve overpriced locally sourced cocktails with those soggy paper straws that dissolve before you finish your drink. The bathrooms will have those frustrating low-flow toilets you have to flush three times. Oh, and get this—" I lean forward, voice dripping with sarcasm, "—mattresses stuffed with cashmere that cost more than most people's monthly rent. Rainwater harvesting systems visible through glass floors, cleaning staff armed with biodegradable products, and entire structures built from imported bamboo. Every ingredient on the menu will be sustainable and local, with the farm's entire life story printed on recycled paper menus that feel like sandpaper."

Lilith's face brightens. "Oh wow, that's wonderful news! Your father's really turning things around. I mean, the Whole Foods job was a good start, but this—this shows real commitment to rebuilding. Men often need these tangible projects to process their emotions, you know? This could be exactly what he needs."

My jaw tightens. "Wait—how exactly do you know where my father works?"

“Oh. Right.” Then she pauses for a few seconds, seconds that seem to drag on forever. “Uh, Max stopped by yesterday," she says with a shrug that’s supposed to look casual, but is masking her fear. "I think he was doing the protective brother thing, scoping me out." Her smile widens. "He filled me in about your dad. The parts you've been... skipping over."

Something hot and dangerous unfurls in my chest. Not jealousy—I don't think there's anything between them—but betrayal. My own brother and Lilith, comparing notes on me.

I rise to my feet, hands clenching involuntarily. "What else did Max tell you about me?"

"We weren't discussing you," Lilith says quickly, then hesitates. "Well, not directly. He just thought I should understand the full situation with your father. He mentioned that you might be..." She trails off, shaking her head. "Look, he was just concerned I wasn't getting the complete picture."

I turn away, my jaw clenched. "So you're siding with Max? Is that it, Lilith? My own brothers won't back me up, and now you're joining their little mutiny? Shipping me off to Elba like some fallen emperor?"

"Roman, I don't even know what Elba is," Lilith says, her voice steady as still water. "Listen to me. Everyone processes loss in their own way. Your father—he got lost in his grief. The drinking made it worse, kept him away longer. I'm not saying what he did was right." She leans forward, her eyes searching mine. "But holding onto this anger—what's it giving you? What purpose does it serve?"

My teeth grind together. "So when exactly did my brother stop by?"

Her gaze meets mine for a flash, then drops to the floor like a stone. "Roman, I tried to bring it up, but the timing never felt right."

Son of a bitch. Max was here before I showed up at her townhouse last night, and she kept it from me. I study her face, searching for other secrets. If she hid this, what else lurks beneath that innocent expression? What other truths will she decide I don't need to know?

I feel my upper lip curl into a sneer, my jaw clenching so hard that a dull ache spreads through my temples. The bitter taste of betrayal coats my tongue. "Crystal clear whose team you're on." My voice drops to a dangerous whisper, each word sharp as broken glass. "Guess I misread everything about you. Was it all just a gold-digger's long game? Did our night on the beach and the night in your bedroom mean anything at all?"

The words leave my mouth like poison darts, and I instantly want to snatch them back. My brain screams at me to stop, that Lilith has never once shown interest in my wealth, that I'm only lashing out because her honesty feels like betrayal. But the damage is already done.

She bows her head, hair falling like a curtain between us. "Lil," I choke out, the apology burning my throat like acid.

"Just go," she whispers, but the tremor in her voice screams louder than any shout. When she turns away, I clench my fists so hard my knuckles crack. Every cell in my body screams to grab her, to crush her against me until neither of us can breathe. I don't. I'm a fucking lightning strike searching for ground. One touch and I'll incinerate everything. The image of her with Blake branded into my retinas. Max's betrayal pulsing in my veins. Her defending my father—my FATHER—hammering in my skull like a death sentence.

I slam the door hard enough to splinter the frame on my way out.

Chapter Twenty-Four

ROMAN