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morning. She didn’t know if the guard was still in the garden and didn’t check. Her one brief thought about trying to run away was stymied by exhaustion.

She crawled back into bed and didn’t wake until midmorning when her phone came alive with alerts and notifications. Her internet access had been restored.

Tempted as she was to post I’m being held against my will, she was quickly caught up in reading all the news updates, emails and texts along with listening to her voice mail.

She brought her knees up to her chest, cringing as her mother’s message began with an appalled “For God’s sake, Amy.”

Beyond the bedroom door, she heard the maid enter the suite, but kept listening to her mother harangue her for making international headlines “behaving like a trollop.”

It wasn’t the maid. Her heart lurched as Luca walked into the bedroom with a tray. He was creaseless and stern, emanating the scent of a fresh shower and shave.

Amy was nestled in the pillows she’d piled against the headboard, blankets gathered around her. She clicked off her phone mid maternal diatribe and dropped the device.

“You really have been demoted, haven’t you?”

He stilled as he absorbed the remark, then gave her a nod of appreciation. “Nice to have you back. I was worried. Especially when I was told you didn’t eat a single bite yesterday. That changes now.” He touched something on the tray and legs came down with a snick.

“Your spies don’t know what I do when no one is around.” She was dying for coffee, though, so she straightened her legs, allowing him to set the tray across her lap.

“They’re spies, Amy. Of course, they do.” He sat down next to her knees and poured coffee from the carafe into the two cups on the tray.

“Are you really having me watched?” She scowled toward the ceiling corners in search of hidden cameras.

“No.” His mouth twitched. “But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to concern over how you might be handling the restoration of your internet connection. You were very angry last night.” He sipped his coffee. “Anything we should know about?”

She followed his gaze to her phone, facedown and turned to silent, but vibrating with incoming messages.

“I’ve been reading, not responding. My social feeds are on fire. In times like this, you find out very quickly who your real friends are.” A handful of clients were ready to die on a hill defending her. Others were asking about terminating their contracts. “Bea and Clare have asked me to call when I can. They won’t judge, but I don’t know what to tell them. The rest of the office is used to being left in the dark with certain clients or actions we take on their behalf. They’re reaching out with thoughts and prayers, but I can tell they’re dying of curiosity, wondering if this is a stunt or if I’m really this stupid.” Her hand shook as she dolloped cream into her coffee. “Our competitors are reveling in my hypocrisy, of course, crossing professional lines when I’m usually defending victims of such things. They’ll dine on this forever, using it to tarnish London Connection’s integrity and my competence.”

“London Connection won’t be impacted.” Luca’s expression darkened. “I’ve set up the transfer. That will keep things afloat until you’re able to right the ship.”

“I told you not to pay me.” She clattered her cup back into the saucer, spilling more coffee than she’d tasted. “I won’t accept it. Taking money for this makes me feel cheap and dirty and stupid. Don’t make me refuse it again, Luca.”

He set his own cup down with a firm clink while he spat out a string of curses and rose to pace restlessly. “You did what I hired you to do,” he reminded Amy as he rounded on her. “I want to compensate you.”

“I ruined myself. I ruined my friends’ livelihood.”

“Quit being so hard on yourself.”

“Quit being so obtuse! Just because I don’t run a country doesn’t mean my actions don’t have consequences.” She snatched up her phone and tapped to play her mother’s message from the beginning, increasing the volume so Luca got the full benefit of her mother’s appalled disgust.

“For God’s sake, Amy. You’ve really done it this time, behaving like the worst sort of trollop. Neville is putting me on a plane back to London. He doesn’t want to be associated with me. I’ve had your father on the phone, too. How can I tell him you’re reliable enough to take control of your trust when you do things like this? You really never learn, do you?”

Amy clicked it off so they didn’t have to hear the rest.

“I thought you were already disinherited.”

“My father has control of a trust fund that was set up for me when I was born. I was supposed to start receiving income from it ten years ago, but I was expelled from school.” She didn’t tell him why. “They decided I wasn’t responsible enough. I was supposed to assume full control at twenty-five, but my career promoting high-society parties online wasn’t deemed serious enough. Daddy moved the date to my thirtieth birthday, eighteen months from now. Apparently, that’s now off, as well.” She threw her phone back into the blankets.

Luca swore again, this time with less heat, more remorse.

“I don’t care.” It was mostly true. “I’ve learned to live without their financial support. But when I took your contract, I had a fantasy of finally telling them to shove it. I wanted to prove I’d made my fortune my own way, which was pure pride on my part. Looks like I’ve got more time to make that dream come true. Problem solved,” she said with facetious cheer while bitterness and failure swirled through her chest.

Why was life such a game of chutes and ladders? Why did she always hit the long slide back to zero?

“I had no idea.” He came back to sit on the bed.

“Why would you?” She wrapped her cold hands around the hot

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