Wicked Liar by Faith Summers
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Dominic
I rushed back home as quickly as I could.
It’s almost night when I get in, so not quick enough by my standards when I’m being told Candace is acting weird.
It was the best I could do, given the circumstances. Two of our enforcers picked up Kazimir again on the radar. This time we wanted to get him while we could, but it turned out to be another fruitless mission.
When I get inside my apartment and see Candace by the balcony, I know we've hit the ceiling of shit just from the sight of her.
Cory told me she’d been drinking heavily all afternoon. He just left but had been keeping a close eye on her. Now that I see her, I wish I’d gotten back sooner.
Her hair’s a mess and the straps of her camisole top barely on her shoulders. Thankfully, she’s wearing a bra but her skirt has ridden so far up her legs it’s practically around her hips and I can see her panties.
“Hi baby,” she bubbles with a giggle.
Just from those two words, I know she’s wasted.
I walk right over to her, and she giggles again.
“Candace. Come on. You should lie down.”
“What? You don't want to fuck tonight? Bored with me already, Dominic D’Agostino?” She shakes her head and grabs a bottle of wine. She drinks straight from the bottle and clears her throat. There are six empty wine bottles on the table before her.
This isn’t her at all. She doesn’t do shit like this. I don't even remember Candace ever getting drunk.
“No, doll, come on. Let me take care of you.”
She stares at me and shakes her head. “Oh please. Don’t tell me that you’ll take care of me because you won’t.”
“You know I will.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t know Dominic. That’s why I shouldn’t trust you. Every time I get my hopes up, you do something. Every time. I don’t know why I bother.” She goes to grab the bottle again, but I take it from her and she smacks my hands away.
“No more Candace.”
“You selfish bastard.”
“Talk to me.” I hate that she’s drunk, but I know there's more to find out about her that I won't like. I haven't stopped thinking about that horrible realization from the other night.
The days that have followed since have only cemented my fears.
Hurt and pain run in the depths of those champagne eyes. Neither of which I wanted for her.
“Talk to you? Really?”
“Yes.”
“There’s too much, far too much.”
I hold her gaze. “Start with one thing.”
She laughs, off-key this time. “One thing… it’s hard to pick one thing when there are so many. But maybe I could start with the question of why it took you so long to notice me.”
I grit my teeth. This is the shit I knew would follow with the promise I made to her father. This. The perception that I never knew she existed.
"I’ve been in your life forever and it wasn’t until two years ago that you noticed me," she adds. "Why? Why did you treat me like a shadow before, or like the help?”
“Candace--”
“It’s true. Everybody was better than me. I was just the Riccis' daughter. Nothing. Nobody. Why would you treat me like that back then, then pay fifteen million dollars for me at a stupid auction when I tell you I can’t be with you?”
I stare back at her wondering how the hell I'm supposed to explain myself. “Candace the past is difficult to explain.”
She shakes her head. “No, it's not. It's simple," she blurts. "I loved you so much and you didn't even know I was alive. If you did you would have known what was happening to me. You would have known that fucking man Uncle Lucas had no love for me. When he couldn't have my mother, he came for me. Every night when Papa was away, he'd come for me, and sometimes it wasn't just him. He raped me over and over again."
As her hands fly up to cover her mouth, a bolt of shock punches my gut, then squeezes my heart. My head pounds at first from the impact of her words, then it feels like it might explode.
A shudder runs through me, and I rivet my gaze to hers as she shakes her head.
"Candace, what? What did you just say to me?" I grab her and squeeze her shoulders.
"No... I can't talk about it. I mustn't talk about it. He said he would kill me." Tears choke her voice, then stain her cheeks.
I reach for her and hold her to me as she yields to the deep sobs that take her. Her shoulders wrack with it and she crumbles in my arms, falling apart like I hoped she wouldn't.
And I fall too, hating that I was right. Hating it more that I wasn't there for her.
“I’m sorry, my angel,” I whisper into her ear. "I'm so sorry."
