Beneath The Lies Page 17

  Hearing his condescending tone makes my insides quake and I’m almost certain the direction in which this conversation is headed. But my pitiful heart yet refuses to acknowledge it.

  “I deserve some honesty, Damien,’ I press forth because I need to be absolutely sure.

  Damien exhales. “Okay, you want honesty then let me be clear. You and I shared an incredible night together. It was…something else, no doubt. But now that we’re back here in London, I’m afraid I can’t continue seeing you. Not in that way.”

  “Why? Why are you ending this between us when it has barely begun?”

  “Fine,” he snaps. “I can’t be with you because I am a Duke and I can’t date a woman of color like you. My family, my friends, my peers, everyone I know will be affronted if you’re seen with me. I have responsibilities to my title now; I can’t afford to be frivolous.”

  The words rattling off his mouth shoot at me like a bunch of bullets, each one inflicting a wound worse than the previous.

  “Since when did you become such a racist?”

  He straightens. “You don’t know me at all to make that comment. Perhaps I’ve always been like this. Maybe all I wanted was to seduce you. You are gorgeous, indeed. But now that I’ve had you, I’m afraid I don’t want something serious with you.”

  He rounds the table and stands in front of me, and raises my chin with a knuckle. “But if it’s an affair you want, then we can be together on the side, but never in public. I can accommodate you like that. After all, you are good in bed.”

  His words pierce me like a spear to my chest and I slap his hand away from me, horrified by his cruelty. I’ve been naïve to think I could’ve made it work between us, that I only needed to spend time with him to make him remember me. This man standing in front of me is truly a stranger with ice in eyes and venom in his words. I don’t know him and, in another life, I never would’ve wanted to be with this vicious man. My heart splinters in pieces, but I force myself not to cry in front of him.

  Without another word, I rush out the door grabbing my coat and purse from the small office assigned to me. I jab the button on the elevator console, praying it arrives before I completely break down. But I’m unable to stop the tears spilling down my cheeks. The elevator dings in front of me. I charge inside as soon as the doors open and bump into Gabe who was stepping out.

  “Aaliya,” he says as I rush past him. “What is wrong? Are you okay?”

  I don’t reply to him and just press the close button on the elevator shutting him out.

  Aaliya

  My eyes burn when I step into the shower. I spent most of last night and this morning in a cry-induced blur. I have cried and raged and thrown things about the house thanks to Damien’s cruel behavior. The hollow pit in my stomach has only deepened since his rejection, so much so that I’m unable to eat or drink. My world is collapsing around me and I don’t know how to save it. How dare he proposition me to be his mistress, kept under wraps?

  I. Am. His. Wife!

  And now, after his vile suggestion, I don’t even want to tell him our truth. I rest my head against the cool tiles, the water running down me. I don’t even know what I should do next. Every angle I think from draws a big blank. How can he change so much and be so different from the man I know and love?

  The mind may forget but his heart remembers.

  Words spoken by Gabe to me, words told to me by my mom. Lies! All Lies! His heart and mind have both forgotten me. Turning off the shower, I wrap myself in a towel. The mirror in front of me is fogged and I wipe it with my hand. I don’t recognize the broken woman staring back at me. Tired, heavy eyes, circled with purple smudges, pale skin, chapped lips. I am a total mess.

  How am I going to survive this pain?

  Gabe’s called me five times already since last evening and I’ve disconnected each of his calls and refused to reply to his various text messages. His last message mentioned he’d drop by in the evening to check on me. Well, I won’t be there for him to check anything because if I see him, I will punch him, hard. It’s because of him I am in this position. He didn’t allow me to tell Damien first off that I was his wife and now I’m way worse than ever. Now he’ll never believe or accept what I am to him.

  Jonathan’s the only other person I know in this city and so when he called asking me out tonight, I agreed to meet him, just for some human company. I leave the bathroom and enter the adjoining bedroom to get my war paint on. I may be broken on the inside, but I will go out tonight. I’m tired of being miserable. I only want a regular night out with a friend and not think of all the burdens in my life.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I reach the nightclub and look around for Jonathan. He waves at me from a tall corner table in a cordoned off section and pulls me in a hug as soon as I reach him.

  “Hey there,” he says with his usual cheer. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  Even though I’m resolved to take tonight by storm, thoughts about my future remain frozen on my mind. I heave a harsh breath, refusing to once again fall into the gutter of misery. Tomorrow, I’ll go back to my reality. Tonight, I’m going to forget all that is going on with me and drown all my unhappy thoughts in a nice drink or maybe two or three.

  Jonathan narrows his eyes. “Is everything alright? Are you okay?”

  “Brilliant,” I reply with a forced smile.

  We order our drinks and soon I’m laughing at Jonathan’s tales. We’ve been in touch over the last week ever since I started work on his project so we’re already quite familiar with one another and Jonathan has a knack of making anyone comfortable. But at some point tonight I’ll have to tell him I won’t be able to work on his project anymore because I absolutely refuse to work with Damien after his hateful behavior.

  Jonathan tells me stories of his dangerous escapades and I listen enraptured as many of them involve Damien.

  “Why do you do it? Is it the thrill or what?” I ask.

  “Of course, it’s the thrill of it. Imagine what it feels like to fly. Imagine floating on a cushion of air. That is what you experience when you base jump or skydive. It is truly remarkable and downright unbelievable.”

  “I just don’t get why you guys would defy death at every opportunity you got!”

  “Some of the activities we did were dangerous, but we’re not stupid. We took our safety seriously, especially Damien. To the world, it looked as if we had a death wish but in reality, it was all just the thrill of achievement. No one can understand it, unless you don’t do it for yourself. Gabe for sure never understood. He was just a happy spectator to us.”

  “You’re right because I definitively don’t understand it.” I scoff.

  We drift into silence and my gaze roams around the dark interiors of the club. Black velvet sofas and seats line the corners, silver mirrors are placed at strategic points making the place look bigger than it seems. The dance floor is packed with several people dancing. The whole place is crowded with patrons, but this private section where we are seated is comfortably away from the melee and gives me room to breathe.

  I turn to Jonathan and he’s observing me over the rim of his glass.

  “So, how was it in Scotland with Damien and you?” he ventures out.

  My heart does a deep dive thinking about my time in Scotland with Damien. But I paste a smile on my face as I reply, “Oh! It was fine. We discussed work among other things.”

  “And now that you’re working together?”

  “Like I said, it’s all fine,” I reply in a flat tone.

  He rubs the side of his glass, his eyes on me. “Is that it?”

  “I’m not here to talk about Damien. I’ve heard you really know how to party and have a good time, so get on to that, will you?”

  He chuckles. “Alright woman, if that’s what you want then I won’t disappoint.”

  He signals the waiter who places tequila shots in front of us.

  My brows shoot up. “Shots?”

&
nbsp; “You’re the one who wants to be blown off her feet. I’m just obliging.”

  “Somehow, my definition and yours of having a good time seem entirely different. But with the shitty two days I’ve had…what the hell, let’s do it.” I clink my glass to his and we down our first shot. It burns right down and then leaves a delicious and heady sensation behind.

  “One more?” I ask him.

  His eyes widen.

  “You sure? Would you rather talk about why you’ve had shitty days?” he asks in a concerned voice.

  “Are you too chicken for another shot?” I dare him instead.

  “Alcohol doesn’t help, Aaliya.”

  “True that! But it does numb things for a little while. So, are you in or not?”

  He dips his head and orders another round of shots, which I knock back. My mood soars and my confidence returns ten-fold. Fuck everything that has happened to me! Tonight, for just one night, I’m going to be a regular girl out with a friend and having a good time. I bob my head to the music and we hit the dance floor soon after. I raise my hands up in the air and move my hips to the pulsating music, feeling free.

  We dance together for several minutes until Jonathan twirls me once, then twice and my head spins. The song changes and we return to our table.

  “I need to use the ladies’ room. I’ll be back soon,” I tell him before heading in the direction of the washrooms.

  A few minutes later, when I leave the ladies’ room, I spot a couple making out in the corner, their hands and mouths all over each other. Looking at them makes my heart burn. I shove my hair out of my face, breathing hard. I want to hit Damien right now for forgetting me, for not loving me enough to remember me. Without thinking, I take my phone out of my purse and call him. The phone rings and rings.

  Damien

  “You’re a jerk and I…I hate you,” Aaliya speaks even before I can say hello.

  “Aaliya…” I start to say, but she interrupts.

  “Not a word from you, Damien. I’m the one talking now and you’re listening,” she yells against the loud music blaring in the background. “I think I’m drunk enough to give you a piece of my mind.”

  “Wait what? You’re drunk?”

  Ignoring my question, she continues, “You hurt me yesterday with your racist comments and your indecent proposition. What we shared was special, but you pretended I didn’t mean anything to you, that I wasn’t good enough to be with you because you’re a Duke. What does that even mean? What’s so special about being a Duke? Seems to me you only have a fucking title and truckloads of more money to spend than I do. What gives you the right to think you’re better than me in any way? Because you’re not, you hear me. You are nasty and cruel and despicable.”

  I shut my eyes and lean against the wall of my bedroom.

  I hurt her!

  I had to do it because that was the only way to push her away from me. Something inside me broke when I broke her heart yesterday because I know we had begun something special. My infatuation with her has only grown ever since I set eyes on her outside the coffee shop in Mayfair. But I had to stop it because I couldn’t put her in harm’s way.

  “Men are all assholes,” she continues with a sigh. “Why did I ever think that you were different?”

  A smile breaks out on my face. She is truly adorable and I curse myself for putting her in this position.

  Unaware of the conflict in my mind, Aaliya rages on. “I was told you had changed, that you were colder now, more hard. I thought you would be different with me. I thought you’d remember…” She sighs. “Guess I was wrong.”

  Now she’s not making any sense. “Aaliya, where are you? I’m coming to get you. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, no, no! I’m out having a great time. I think I need another tequila, maybe two more and then perhaps I’ll forget all about you and the mean and horrible human you’ve become.”

  My body tenses with every word she utters. I’m so fucking pissed with the whole situation, with her for getting drunk and with myself for driving her to get drunk.

  “Aaliya,” I say in as calm a voice I can muster. “Tell. Me. Where. Are. You.”

  “Okay, I’m done talking to you. Jonathan must be wondering where I am. I have to go…”

  “Wait Aaliya…”

  But she hangs up.

  My heart rebels at the thought of her and Jonathan together. The thought of Jonathan’s hands on her, of him touching her, makes me want to cause violence because I’m certain Jonathan has a thing for her. He couldn’t stay away from her during my mother’s gala and this became further obvious when we were at his estate in Scotland.

  I blow out a deeply agitated breath. There’s no way I’m letting her remain alone with him in the state she’s in. I call Jonathan’s cell, but he disconnects my call. I call Aaliya and she disconnects too.

  Fucking hell! I rush towards the elevator calling Mike, telling him to hurry it with the car while I dial Gabriel.

  “Gabe, I need to know where Jonathan is right this fucking moment,” I yell as soon as Gabe picks up.

  “What? Why?”

  “Aaliya’s with him and she’s drunk. I need to know where they are. I’ll kill him Gabe. If he fucking touches her, friend or not, I swear to God, I’ll kill him.” My mind is running riot and any scenario it paints with her and him together makes me madder than hell.

  Gabe stays silent for a second. “I’ll get back to you,” he responds before he disconnects.

  I’m in the car when Gabe messages a few minutes later with the name of a popular nightclub. He’s close by, so he’s reaching there as well. I give directions to Mike.

  Aaliya

  My mood has completely soured after my conversation with Damien. I reach Jonathan and ask for another shot, waiting for the happy buzz to return, but it doesn’t.

  There’s a tap on my shoulder. My hands curl into fists on seeing Gabe behind me.

  “You have five seconds to go away before I punch your face,” I snap at him.

  He raises his hands up. “Hey, what’ve I done?”

  Gabe looks beyond me at Jonathan and the two shake hands. I raise my fist up and take a menacing step towards Gabe, but Jonathan pulls me behind him. “Hey, hey, relax wild cat. What’s going on?”

  I turn to Jonathan and point a finger at his chest. “Why did you tell him where I was?”

  His frown deepens as he takes a flustered step back.

  I turn to Gabe. “Go away! I don’t want to talk to you and I don’t want to see you.”

  Gabe holds my arm but I shrug his hold off me.

  “I’m mad at you and you don’t want to be around me when I am this mad at you. So, leave me alone.”

  “Aaliya, I don’t know why you’re upset with me.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, you need to go home. Damien...”

  I cut him off before he can finish.

  “Damien can buzz off and so should you. I’m not listening to you anymore,” I yell. The people around us turn to look at me, but I’m beyond caring.

  Jonathan takes a step forward, putting me behind him. “What the fuck is going on, Gabe? Is that why you called me? To spy on her?”

  Gabe looks heavenward before saying, “Look, Jonathan, I can’t explain right now, but you need to stay away from her. Let me take her home.”

  Jonathan stands taller with his arms folded in front of him. “I’m not letting her go anywhere until you tell me what exactly is going on.”

  I move Jonathan aside and come and stand next to him. “Yes, Gabe. Let me hear you explain this to him. Go on.”

  Gabe gives me a nasty glare. “Aaliya, you’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “He doesn’t want to be with me, Gabe.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asks.

  “Yesterday, at the office. He told me it was over, that I’m not good enough to be with him. What hope is left if he doesn’t want me? How will he ever accept any truth if I c
onfront him now? And even if he does accept it then what future do we have after this rejection? I should have told him about me the first time I met him, but you didn’t let me. Now look where I am!”

  Jonathan touches my shoulder, whirling me to face him. “I think I need to know what is going on.” His voice is stone cold serious.

  I turn to Gabe. “Either you explain the truth to Jonathan or I will. He deserves to hear it because he’s equally caught up in this web of lies.”

  “Bloody fucking hell,” Gabe huffs out, annoyed. He heaves out a breath before saying, “Aaliya is Damien’s wife.”

  Jonathan’s mouth drops open as he stares at me.

  Gabe continues, “Damien came to me one day five years ago devastated by something his brother had told him. I don’t know what that was except that Damien wanted to disappear. He changed his identity and moved to India. We started a new design firm in Mumbai where he met Aaliya, fell in love with her and married her. And they have a one-year old son.”

  “What the fuck?” Jonathan yells. He turns to me. “Is that true, what he said?”

  “Yes!”

  “Bloody fucking hell,” Jonathan repeats with a stunned expression. He shakes his head and his gaze narrows on me. “Damien doesn’t remember you. does he?”

  I drop my head, shaking it. “He doesn’t.”

  He pivots and points a finger at Gabe. “And you told her to not tell him? That’s fucked up and doesn’t make sense. He deserves to know.”

  Gabe purses his lips. “She knows the reasons and they’re valid. She’s just too upset with whatever has gone down between her and Damien yesterday in the office to make sense of anything else.”

  Jonathan looks beyond Gabe for a moment. “Look Gabe, you and I are going to catch up tomorrow and you’re going to tell me everything. And I mean everything!”

  “Okay!” Gabe agrees.

  Jonathan once again stares at something beyond Gabe before he puts his arm around my waist, drawing me closer to him. Puzzled by his action, I take a step back, but his hold on my waist tightens. I open my mouth to chastise him but he speaks before I can.