Chapter 2

Early the next morning, I started packing.

Three years of my life fit into two suitcases.

I'd just zipped the second one shut when the apartment door opened. Vivian walked in with Tristan behind her. Everyone who'd laughed at me the night before came in after them.

Not one of them looked embarrassed about letting themselves in. They circled my luggage and started offering opinions.

"He actually packed."

"If you're going to put on a show, commit to it. Those cases are probably empty."

"I say he folds before tonight."

"Tonight? That's generous. Three hours."

Tristan held up one finger, completely sure of himself.

"One hour.

"All Vivian has to do is offer him this apartment and he won't go anywhere."

Someone gave him a thumbs-up.

"Leave it to Tristan. Right in his wheelhouse."

"He lived off rich women for years. Of course he can spot one of his own."

They all cracked up.

I ignored them, crouched down by the suitcase, and slid my ID and passport into the inner pocket.

Vivian stood in the doorway looking grim. She clearly hadn't slept. There were faint shadows under her eyes, and even her hair, which she never let out of place, was a little tangled.

"You're really going? Where?"

"That's not your business anymore."

She bit her lip and took a step toward me.

Tristan cut in immediately.

"Hear that? He won't tell you because he wants you worried.

"Ask him one more time and he's won."

Vivian stopped where she was.

I took a box out of the dresser. The building pass, the keys, and the handful of things Vivian had ever given me were all inside.

The most expensive was an eight-hundred-dollar watch. It had been left over from a raffle at one of her parties, and she'd tossed it to me without thinking twice.

I pushed the box across to her.

"These are yours."

The moment Vivian saw the keys, her face went dark.

Tristan snatched them up first and dangled them off one finger.

"Vivian, you still don't get it? He's lived here three years and his name never went on the deed. He's insulted that his rich girlfriend didn't take the hint."

Her friends nodded like something had finally clicked.

"Three years and no property? Yeah, I'd be getting impatient too."

"Vivian, your charity giving has been a little thin."

"You could sell ten houses in his hometown and not cover one of your closets. Of course he's desperate."

My nails dug into my palms.

Vivian knew better than anyone how much I hated hearing my background turned into a punchline. She still didn't stop them.

She just looked at me.

"I'll have my assistant start the transfer this afternoon.

"The apartment's yours. Happy now?

"If you want something, just say it. You don't have to work this hard at pretending."

It felt like somebody had put a fist through my chest.

"I don't want it."

They glanced at each other and laughed again.

"A whole apartment isn't enough? That's some appetite."

"Maybe he's holding out for shares in Ford Group."

Tristan folded his arms.

"He's not saying no. He's saying not enough.

"Give him the apartment today and tomorrow he'll be asking for the company."

I looked at Vivian.

"Is that what you think too? That I'm turning it down because it isn't enough?"

She didn't answer.

That was the moment the last of my desire to explain myself went out.

I lifted my head and made myself smile.

"I'll be out shortly. After this, there's nothing between us."

Her eyes went red instantly.

"All you had to do was talk me down. Why did you have to blow it up like this?"

She reached for my sleeve again, and her voice went soft.

"All right. I'm not angry anymore.

"So don't you be angry either, okay?

"I'll cook for you tonight. Anything you want."

I looked at her.

"Vivian, I'm the one who got humiliated. Why is it always me who has to talk you down?"

Her hand stopped in midair.

Tristan pulled her behind him.

"Adrian, don't push your luck. You know who she is?

"She's the only heir the Ford family has. Men line up for a shot at her.

"She's standing here apologizing to you and you're still acting superior?"

I picked up my suitcases and turned to face him.

"Her money is her business. I've never spent it and she's never supported me for a single day.

"You, though. You call yourself her best friend while you drive the car she bought you, wear the watch she paid for, and stay in the hotels she books. And then you point at me and call me a gold digger.

"What, it doesn't count as freeloading if you're not sleeping with the woman paying for it?"

Tristan's expression changed.

"What are you talking about? Vivian and I are just friends!"

"Then enjoy being just friends."

I rolled my luggage toward the door.

Vivian stepped in front of me. Her eyes landed on the passport sitting on top of the suitcase, and real panic crossed her face.

"Where are you going?"

"Work."

"What kind of work needs a passport?"

I didn't answer.

Tristan caught her arm.

"Don't ask, Vivian. He put it right where you'd see it because he wants you scared.

"The second you push him for an answer, he's won."

She looked at Tristan, then at me. The hand she'd reached out with slowly came back down.

"Fine."

She held back the tears and stepped aside.

"Go. And if you've got any pride at all, don't ever come back."

I rolled the suitcases past her.

At the door, she wrapped both arms around me from behind.

"Adrian."

Her cheek was against my back. There were tears in her voice.

"Can you really stand to leave me?"

For one heartbeat, I almost gave in.

Then Tristan walked over.

"Let go, Vivian.

"You're worth billions and you're clinging to a gold digger begging him to stay. Doesn't that embarrass you?

"He's not going anywhere. Trust me. He'll be back apologizing within the hour."

Vivian went stiff.

In the end, she let go. She believed him.

I didn't look back.

Once I was through that door, I had no intention of coming back through it.