PROLOGUE
TIERNEY
The restaurant was crowded. People were squeezed together like strands of multicolored dry
spaghetti shoved into a jar as they waited for a table to become free.
A guy at the next table was on his phone loudly berating a colleague for a screw-up at
work while his lunch date studied her menu, mortified. On my other side, two women spoke
over each other as they discussed their latest failures in the dating scene.
“I mean, if your penis is pierced, you’re basically advertising that you’re good at sex!”
the brunette yelled over the noise of the other diners to her friend. “Well, I have a severe case
of buyer’s remorse. I was scammed!”
Once upon a time I might have laughed at that with London, but I felt crowded by all the
people. And outside the restaurant windows, Manhattan was abuzz with foot and road traffic.
There was noise and lights and smells and feelings everywhere.
So many feelings I could barely feel my own.
My chest grew uncomfortably tight, and I breathed a little sharper, a little faster to
alleviate it.
“You’re not happy,” my best friend, London Wetherspoon, said.
I tried to focus on her pretty face and drown out the surrounding chaos. “Am I supposed
to be?” I asked.
She flinched. “That’s not what I mean. No one is saying you need to be over your grief. I
only mean ... you’re not happy here.”
She was right.
The itch to leave New York had started long before the death of my parents. But family
was what mattered most to me. My parents were here. London was here. And, I reminded
myself because I constantly needed to remind myself, Hugh was here. Hugh, my boyfriend of
eighteen months.
He’d seen me through losing my parents. A lot of new partners might have bailed at
having to support someone through something so big so soon.
I wasn’t very present with him these days.
But he didn’t seem to mind.
Maybe I should mind that he didn’t seem to mind.
“You’re the only family I have left,” I told London truthfully.
She reached across the table to cover my hand with hers. “And I will always be your
family. Even if you need to be somewhere else to be happy.”
“Somewhere else?”
“Scotland.” She gave me a melancholy smile. “I know you’ve missed it since your
grandmother died. You should go. Even if it’s just to visit for a while. Get out of the city.
Figure out what you want.”
The thought of Scotland scored a new ache across my chest, and it was the first positive
spark I’d had in a while. I’d been numb for months, going through the motions, not doing
anything. Sure, I could afford not to do anything, but that didn’t mean I should mindlessly
laze about.
For four years, I’d worked as the general manager of a five-star hotel on the Upper West
Side. It was a boutique hotel, not part of the Silver Group. However, my parents’ reputation
and standing in the hospitality industry snagged me the job. At the time, I was the youngest
general manager in New York. But I’d kept the job because I was damn good at it.
Until the two people who mattered most to me died in a helicopter crash.
I returned to work two months after my parents’ funeral, and I made a lot of mistakes.
Losing my shit at an entitled guest was the final straw for my boss and he “let me go.”
Now I was aimless.
Lost.
Yet the thought of Scotland cut through the noise.
“What about you? What about Hugh?”
London rolled her eyes. “Who gives a fuck about Hugh? As for me, I’m here, babe,
whether I’m sitting across a table from you or an entire salty ocean.”
Gratitude was the second positive emotion to pierce my numbness that day. “Scotland.” I
nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
My best friend smiled. “That’s all I ask.”
***
After lunch with London, I was supposed to go to a job interview with the Silver Group. The
CFO, Ashlyn Waters, had reached out to invite me to interview for general manager at their
hotel in Midtown. It was a favor to my parents, I knew that.
Despite the kindness behind the offer, I couldn’t make myself go.
Now that London had planted the idea of Scotland, the thought of burying myself in
another job here in Manhattan made me more numb than usual, which was saying something.
Instead, I returned to the apartment that belonged to Hugh. The truth was Hugh was different
from any guy I’d dated. Confident, more forthright. Arrogant. He was a nepo baby too. Son
and heir of one of the biggest automotive brands in the world. Now Hugh was CFO of the
electric vehicles division, and once his father stepped down, he hoped to become CEO.
His job meant he traveled a lot. He wasn’t around much.
And maybe that was why we’d lasted as long as we had.
After I lost my parents, I’d seen a caring side to him I hadn’t expected. He’d moved me
into his apartment to keep an eye on me and I’d dazedly gone with it despite London’s
reservations. My friend had grown quiet over her dislike of Hugh since he’d reintroduced her
to Nick whom we knew of in high school. Nick and Hugh were two peas in a pod as far as I
was concerned, but London had been dating him for a month and seemed to like him. Despite
not liking Hugh. Strange, but true. But I’d seen her sneer today at the mention of my
cohabitee.
I’d noted it.
I’d noticed.
Huh.
As I walked into the apartment building, the doorman/security guard, Harvey Collins, a
large gentleman in his early thirties, raised his eyebrows. “Ms. Silver. I ... Good afternoon.”
I frowned at his strange expression. “Good afternoon, Mr. Collins.”
“It’s Harvey, Ms. Silver,” he reminded me like he always reminded me, but his eyes
darted to the elevator with nervousness.
My parents, Maura Gordon and Carter Silver, had instilled in me that if someone showed
me the respect of calling me by my surname, I showed that respect back. Harvey Collins
didn’t work for me. He protected Hugh’s building from unwanted visitors.
His nervousness, however, was strange.
Even stranger that I was noticing.
It was as if my conversation with London today had woken me out of a thick fog.
I swiped the key card and then hit the button for the penultimate floor, noting Harvey
scowling at the wall. The doors closed before I could ask him if he was all right.
A minute later, I let myself into the apartment. As I stepped into the open-plan living
space, an unfamiliar woman came hurrying out of the main bedroom, barefooted and
buttoning up her silk blouse. Her hair was a mess, her expression frantic.
And Hugh came rushing out after her, barefooted, wearing his suit trousers and shrugging
on his shirt.
My boyfriend was a handsome, smooth type of attractive. Perfect hair, perfect teeth,
perfectly straight nose, lips just full enough, and a strong, sharp, masculine jawline. He
worked out obsessively, so his sculpted body was a thing of beauty.
As I took in the situation, I realized that I felt nothing.
He was cheating on me with this woman—oh, I did recognize her. She worked in his
office. Carolina or Catalina. Something like that.
Her cheeks flushed ruby red as she hurried into her high heels and grabbed her jacket.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured as she rushed past me and into the elevator.
I watched the doors close behind her and turned to Hugh.
He sighed in exasperation, running a hand through his hair. “You were supposed to be at
an interview.”
“Yes.” I nodded. “You’re correct. You fucking another woman is my fault because I was
supposed to be at an interview.”
Hugh flinched at my flat tone. “I ... I don’t know what to say.”
“Sorry is usually a good go-to.”
“I don’t think I am.” He shrugged. “I have needs, Tierney. Having sex with you is like
jerking off. You just lie there. You don’t do anything.”
Disgust soured my gut. “I’m sorry grief has gotten in the way of my libido.”
“Your parents died nearly a year ago!” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “And it
still feels like I’m living with a fucking ghost! Excuse me if I need a little attention from
someone who enjoys having sex with me.”
The last of my numbness melted away as I stared in horror at this man I was sharing a life
with. But I wasn’t, was I? Because he was right. He was the best lover I’d had—which wasn’t
saying a lot—but after my parents died, I completely lost interest in Hugh. In every way. We
were just two people sharing an apartment. I’d thought him patient. That I’d gotten him
wrong before their deaths. That he was kind and understanding.
Like fuck he was!
He was screwing around behind my back. “The right thing to do is break up with a
person. Not fuck around with other women. Jesus! I need to get a sexual health check, you
absolute selfish prick!”
Hugh’s jaw dropped. Then he took a step toward me. “Do you realize that is the most
impassioned thing you’ve said to me in a year?”
Seriously? “You’re an asshole.”
I shoved past him, striding into the large bedroom and into the walk-in closet. Finding my
suitcases, I rolled them out into the room.
“What are you doing?” Hugh grabbed my wrist as I reached up to begin pulling clothes
down to pack them.
I shrugged him off. “I’m leaving.”
“No.” He bent his face to mine and now it was my turn to gape at the aggression in his
features. “I haven’t put up with your shit for a year for you to walk away now.”
I curled my lip in revulsion. “If you need people to believe you ended it, tell them that. I
don’t give a damn.”
He grabbed my biceps, yanking me toward him, his grip bruising as I tried to squirm out
of his hold. “I put up with your shit because I love you,” Hugh hissed. “You don’t walk away
now that you’re finally here looking at me. If I’d known screwing around with Caro would
elicit this reaction, I’d have told you sooner!”
“You didn’t tell me—you got caught.” I shoved at him. “Let go of me!”
“I’ve been waiting for this.” His eyes heated as he jerked me against him, and I shuddered
at the feel of his arousal. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”
He’d barely finished the sentence when my knee connected with his hard-on.
Agony blazed across his face as his lips parted on a silent yell.
“I’ll get my stuff later.” I skirted past him, shaking. “But we’re over, Hugh. Over.” I
rushed into the living area and out to the elevator. I hit the button frantically.
It seemed to take forever for the doors to open and as I got on, Hugh burst out of the
apartment, still clutching himself between the legs. “Tierney, don’t you dare leave.”
I already had my cell out. “Come near me and I will call the police.”
He straightened, rage blazing in his eyes. “This isn’t over, sweetheart.”
“It’s over if I say it’s over.” I bristled with my fury. “Don’t mess with me, Hugh. I’m on
the edge and I might do something really crazy in self-defense. Don’t push me.”
He blanched at the innuendo in my threat before the doors closed and the elevator
descended.
Trembling with anger and fear, I slumped against the car wall and tried to pull myself
together before the doors opened again.
The concern on Harvey’s face told me he knew. He’d have seen Hugh go up to the
apartment with Caro. Seen Caro leave.
Yet whatever he read on my face as I stepped out, he asked quietly, “Ms. Silver, are you
all right?”
“I’m fine.” I waved a shaky hand. “Thank you, Mr. Collins. I won’t be back, so this is
goodbye.”
He opened the exit, holding the door for me. “It’s been a pleasure, Ms. Silver. Good luck
to you.”
I gave him a wan smile. “Thank you. You too.”
Walking out of the building, I felt a weight lift from my chest.
Turning to glance back up at the high-rise as life buzzed by me, I realized my
relationship, my existence here, was an anchor weighing me down in the wrong place.
Scotland.
The word whispered through my mind.
Yeah, maybe it was time to go back.
“Tierney Silver?”
I spun to find a strange woman peering at me. A man in a suit bumped into her and she
huffed and stepped to the side. She had pixie-cut brown hair and wide, curious brown eyes.
There was a small, sparkly blue stud in her nose, and she wore a blue knitted vest top over a
white T-shirt paired with slouchy brown trousers. Brown loafers completed her casual office
outfit. On anyone else, it would look frumpy, but she made it look effortlessly cool.
I’d definitely never met her before.
“Do I know you?” I asked wearily.
I was tired and needed to find a place to stay.
She held out her hand. “Perri Wilcox. I’m an investigative reporter.”
Oh great. “Look, I don’t—”
“My colleague Ben Rierson was killed two days after your parents died in a helicopter
crash.”
I froze.
“I’ve been investigating Ben’s death and recently discovered the two were connected.”
Shaking my head, I took a step back, like I could sense what was coming.
“I believe my colleague was murdered because he was helping your parents with an
investigation. I believe your parents’ death was not accidental, Ms. Silver. I think someone
shut them and Ben up.”
The sidewalk began to spin, and I stumbled against the side of the building.
Perri Wilcox reached out to steady me. “Whoa, you’re okay,” she murmured in her husky
voice.
I took a few calming breaths before I met her dark gaze. “Tell me.” My tone was hard.
“Tell me everything.” ...
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