The red Lamborghini. There to remind him, to punish him for what he’d done.
Anger bubbled inside. It was always there, seething in his belly.
He fucking hated everything. He hated life. He wished…
He wished he’d had the guts to kill himself way back when.
Some idiot eastern philosopher said life was suffering. He probably hadn’t had a family like Dane’s. If so, he would’ve known that some misery was too much to be endured.
Speed was the only thing that gave Dane any sense of freedom. He’d gotten one too many tickets, but he didn’t give a damn. What good was money if he couldn’t blow it on things that made him feel good?
Traffic in Paris sucked. He should’ve just stayed in Germany, driving the Autobahn, but Shirley had wanted to meet him here. She was the only one worth making a trip for.
He saw the light change. If he gunned it, he could probably make it. Sitting in traffic sucked, and he didn’t want to do it any more than he had to. He stomped on the accelerator and felt the Lamborghini leap forward.
Just before he could cross the intersection, the light turned red. Shit.
He couldn’t stop. Fuck it. Just go.
A taxi was suddenly in the intersection, the cabbie hunched forward, his eyes focused on the light that had just turned green.
“Fuck!”
His foot smashing the brake, Dane twisted the steering wheel so he wouldn’t hit the driver, but it was too—
Metal crunched. The impact threw him forward; stars exploded in his vision. Something warm and sticky trickled down his face and dripped off his chin. Blood.
He tried to move. He didn’t think he was that hurt, but his body wouldn’t obey his commands. Loud French buzzed around him. He blinked as his vision dimmed for a moment…
Dane drove away, as fast as he could. His petulant lashing out hadn’t just affected him. It affected everything.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sophia shook. She couldn’t believe how everything was suddenly, horrifically falling apart. Dane had barely glanced at her, and he didn’t want her at the office. What was going on?
The ugly argument between Dane and Salazar still rang in her ears.
The moment you were conceived. It destroyed everything!
Not even her parents in their least paternal moments had said something that cruel.
“Miss,” Al said quietly. “It’s late.”
She looked at him sharply. How could he speak in such a dulcet voice? He’d been standing outside the door longer and had heard more of the harsh words.
Or was this sort of thing so commonplace that it didn’t bother him anymore?
“I need to borrow a car,” she said.
“If you need to run an errand—”
“I’m going to see Dane.”
“That would be unwise.”
“Al, don’t take this the wrong way. But I’m not asking for your approval.”
The butler merely looked down at her.
She waited. “Do I have to call a taxi?”
A small sigh escaped his lips. “Very well. There’s a Mercedes available for your use. I’ll program the GPS with the address.”
He led her to an enormous garage in the back. Dozens of valuable cars shone under the overhead lights.
“This one.” He opened the door to a black sedan. When she got in, he gave her the fob and key and pressed a few keys on the GPS. “Are you quite sure you want to go?”
“Yes.”
“Very well. Good luck, Miss. Do try to drive safely.”
She pulled away from the Pryce family mansion and followed the GPS directions to Dane’s place. With the hour being so late, traffic was light. She didn’t spot the red Lamborghini on the way even though she sped down the highway. On the other hand, there was a shiny silvery Aston Martin with a Washington state license tag…
George, she thought.
Sweat beaded along her hairline as she pulled alongside the car…but the driver was an Asian man. She shook herself mentally. She was upset, and now she was getting paranoid. She had to calm down if she wanted to confront Dane.
She pulled up in front of the building and gave her key to the uniformed doorman, who recognized her.
“Is Dane Pryce in?” she asked.
“Yes, I think so. I saw him go up not too long ago.”
She nodded. “I don’t think I’ll be here for long, but feel free to move the car if you need to.”
“Will do.” He tipped his hat.
She took the elevator to Dane’s floor. As the digital display showed ever-rising numbers, her heart picked up its tempo. Sweat slickened her palms, and she wiped them on her skirt. She wasn’t backing down. He couldn’t shut her out over an argument he’d had with his father.
She knocked. When there was no answer, she said, “Dane, I know you’re in there.”