The Scotch Royals (Scotch #3)

“Apologize for what?” I asked incredulously.

“For keeping me as a prisoner to begin with.”

I’d never apologize for that. I drank from my glass, dismissing her comment.

“My point is, neither one of us is innocent. But we love each other. Whatever we have is special, real. I know it is. I can see it in your eyes right now.”

Why did I have to give myself away so easily? Why did she have to read me like a goddamn book? “It doesn’t matter how we feel about each other. It’s over. So go back to New York and leave me the hell alone.” I pushed her away harder, trying to get her off my mind forever.

She didn’t flinch. “Crewe, when I leave next week, I’m not coming back. When I land in New York, I’m going to push you from my thoughts and move on with my life. I’m gonna find someone else to spend my life with. I’m not going to mope around and miss you. If you want me, now is the time to say something.”

My fingers gripped the glass tighter.

“I’m not bluffing, Crewe. Drop your pride and work with me on this.”

Now that there was a timer set, I felt the weight of the situation. If I ever found out she got married and had kids, even if it were years down the road, I’d be devastated. Even when knew she tricked me, I couldn’t let Ariel hurt her. I didn’t know why I loved this woman after the way she deceived me.

But I did.

“This is the only offer I’m gonna make.”

She stilled at my words, anxious for me to finish.

“And these conditions are nonnegotiable.”

“I’m listening,” she whispered.

“You come back with me—as my prisoner. You forsake your previous life completely. I’ll fuck you when I feel like it, spend time with you if I’m in the mood, but I don’t owe you anything else. I’m free to do what I want, when I want.” I was offering her the life I offered her in the beginning—one without promises. If she wanted to be with me again, she’d be the one to make all the sacrifices.

Her eyes narrowed in disappointment. “You’re asking me to be your slave?”

I nodded.

“To have no voice? To have no rights?”

I nodded again. “Take it or leave it.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a loathing look, the same kind she used to give me when we first met—when she hated me. “You’re being serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“Then I’ll leave it. No man in the world is worth it—certainly not you.” She left the table and carried her dishes to the sink, dismissing the meal even though our plates were still full. Her back was turned to me, so I couldn’t see her face.

I waited for her to say something else, to tell me what she was thinking. But nothing else came.

She walked back to the table, looking indifferent as she grabbed my plate. “You can go, Crewe. We have nothing more to say to each other.”

I’d successfully pushed her away. I’d successfully made her give up. “You don’t have any of your own demands?”

“You said it was nonnegotiable.”

I could just walk out, but my ass didn’t leave the chair. “Everything is negotiable.”

She threw my plate in the sink, where it shattered loudly. She turned back around, all her love and affection gone. “I thought things were different, Crewe. I thought you actually loved me, and when someone loves someone, they treat them like a human being. The fact that you want to keep me under your thumb, to boss me around like you own me, tells me that nothing was ever real between us. I’m not a thing, a possession, a pawn in your world. Your constant need to own and control everything is despicable, especially when you think you can apply it to me. Now I know this never would have worked, that I should have left when I had the chance. I don’t feel bad for leaving—because there was never a reason to stay.”



I put on a good face for my weekend in London, talking to old friends, acquaintances, and people with astute business minds. When I was surrounded by like-minded people familiar with noble aristocracy, I was in my element.

But all I thought about was her.

I pushed her buttons—hard. Freedom was a hard limit for her, a topic she wouldn’t negotiate, and I disrespected it.

But she disrespected me when she lied to me.

I shouldn’t feel bad about what I did because I’d accomplished what I set out to do. I pushed her away so she wouldn’t come back. She would finally leave me alone and leave our relationship where it belonged—in the past.

At the end of the weekend, I retired to my hotel room alone. When I was away from Scotland, I usually entertained myself with a beautiful woman. Sometimes she was a regular, and sometimes she was someone I bumped into at the bar. I wasn’t picky when it came to choosing a partner. There were lots of degrees of attractiveness, and if she had a pretty smile and soft skin, she usually fit the bill.

But now I didn’t want anyone.

I drank alone then went to bed alone. The last time I slept well was when London was with me. Ever since that night, I tossed and turned in the enormous bed with cold sheets. I didn’t listen to her melodic breathing as she slept. Sometimes she talked in her sleep, and that always made me laugh.

But I didn’t want anyone to join me.

Sasha helped with the loneliness, but she also made it worse sometimes. I constantly compared her to London, the woman I truly wanted to have. No matter how much she hurt me, my cock missed her pussy.

He missed her more than I did.

I lay in my bed and looked out the window. A stormy sky had just spread over the city, and slowly, drops of rain began to pelt the glass. The rain came slowly, and then it pounded against the glass as the storm picked up. Soon, it became background noise, the only soothing thing in my life right now.

I missed Fair Isle. I hadn’t been there in a long time, too busy working in Scotland to return. I only slept with London once while we were there, and now I wished we could both hide away there and forget the rest of the world—with Finley, of course.

But that would never happen.

My phone rang on my nightstand, and I immediately snatched it because I knew it was important. Nobody would call me at this hour unless they had something valuable to impart to me. I didn’t even check the screen before I answered. “This is Crewe.”

“It’s Dunbar,” he responded. “I just wanted to let you know she left Scotland. Her plane took off a few hours ago.”

I’d asked him to notify me if her situation ever changed. She said she was leaving in a week, but she obviously cut the trip short—because she gave up on me. I listened to the rain as I stayed on the phone, unsure how to respond. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Good night, sir.” He hung up.

I kept the phone to my ear even though he was gone. I listened to the line go dead before I tossed the phone back onto the nightstand. My eyes immediately returned to the window, where the water stuck to the glass then dripped down.

She really left.

It was over.

I’d never have to hear from her again.

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