Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires #3) by Lauren Asher

I take a deep breath and fight the temptation to drink as I pull out my phone and text Iris again.

Alana is acting weird and I don’t know why.



I think something happened at dinner. Did Declan pull her aside when I was in the bathroom or something?



I sit with bated breath, waiting for a text that never comes.

She is probably still sleeping.

Instead of stewing in the quiet, obsessing over why Lana is upset, I eat breakfast and get ready for a day at the Dreamland waterpark.

By the time I am tying the string of my swim trunks, Cami bolts into my room.

“Let’s go!”

I grab my shirt off the bed and follow her out of the room.

Lana is dressed in a white dress that brings out the warm tones in her tan skin, and her wavy hair is pulled back in an intricate braid.

I pause midstep, with my shirt hanging in my hand as I check her out.

“You look beautiful,” I rasp.

Her gaze drops to my body for only a second before she turns away and busies herself with searching for something in her purse.

No response. No acknowledgment. No anything but cold, desolate silence eating away at the calmness I feel in her proximity.

The stomach-churning sensation from earlier returns, accompanied with a sick sense of dread.

Cami grabs my hand with a huge smile. “Ready?”

At least whatever Lana is feeling hasn’t affected Cami, which gives me a little hope. Because if I didn’t do anything to affect my relationship with the little kid, then whatever happened was specific to Lana.

If only I knew what.

Since my phone is kept away in a locker the whole day, I don’t have a chance to check Iris’s messages until we are done with the waterpark. While Lana is busy in the bathroom helping Cami change into a dry pair of clothes, I read the text Iris sent.

Hmm. Everything seemed fine. And no, Declan didn’t speak to her, although I’m sure Alana would have been fine with that.



You don’t remember her seeming off?



Her message comes a lot faster this time.

I’m just getting to know her, so I don’t think so. Why?



I wipe my face with frustration, muffling my groan.

She has barely spoken to me today and locked me out of her room last night.



Did you do something?



No.



At least I don’t believe so. All I’ve done is try to make this week special.

Are you sure?



Yes. She seemed happy before and even during dinner.



Let me think…



I take a seat on a bench and drop my head into my hands while I wait for her reply.

After Alana grabbed the wine bottle out of the fridge, she seemed a little more quiet, but she mentioned having a headache, so I didn’t think too much of it.



She mentioned the same thing to me about the headache, but that wouldn’t explain her attitude today.

Anything off about the kitchen?



Besides a lingering smell of whatever Declan burnt coming from the trash? Nope.



My groan of frustration draws the attention of a few people.

Why don’t you ask her?



I wanted to have all the facts before I tried again.



Keep me posted.



She adds a saluting emoji after her message.

If you don’t hear from me in 24 hours, call the cops.



You got it.



I attempt to speak to Lana privately twice after my text conversation with Iris, but she does an incredible job keeping busy with Cami, the parks, and everything else Dreamland has to offer. If she and Cami aren’t in the room, they are out visiting the different resorts and tourist areas. Lana doesn’t ice me out completely, but it feels as if she erected an impenetrable wall between us.

I succumb to drinking again to ease the anxious feelings festering inside me like an infection. It makes me feel like shit to depend on alcohol, but I don’t know how else to cope with the stress. It’s either that or corner her. And knowing Lana, she won’t respond well to that kind of confrontation.

By the time we are boarding the private jet, I still haven’t had a single opportunity to speak with her. My texts are ignored and my knocks on her door go unanswered, which only fuels my growing anxiety, and with it, more drinking.

My shoulders slump as I drop into the large seat across from the couch Cami loves. Unlike the last time, Cami leaves room for Lana to sit. The two of them spend the entire flight back to Michigan watching Dreamland movies and laughing together, although Lana’s smiles never quite reach her eyes. It’s the same smile she had plastered on her face the entire week. The one that makes my chest ache, knowing it is a watered-down version of her real smiles.

I vow in that moment to speak to Lana tonight, even if it means having to tie her down to get some answers.





I tried my absolute hardest to make the rest of the week go by smoothly. It nearly killed me to put on a brave face and charge forward, knowing that everything coming out of Cal’s mouth was a lie, but I did so for Cami. She always wanted to go to Dreamland, and I was not going to ruin her experience by letting my personal feelings about a man get in the way.

If anyone is to blame for believing Cal, it’s me, so it’s only right I suffer through the rest of the week. And suffer I did. Every interaction with Cal felt like someone was piercing my chest with a thousand needles.