Chapter 121: Chapter 122 Diabolical Plan

Yvaine nodded. ‘Yeah. I wouldn’t have believed it if it weren’t you telling me. I mean, come on, who’d have thought Catherine isn’t really the Vances’ kid? The way they coddle her, you’d think she’s their only child. And this Jace character, her half-brother...’

‘Rhys bailed him out,’ I said. ‘I guess he called Rhys after Catherine fainted.’

Yvaine cackled. ‘Rhys is in for the shock of a lifetime. Thought he married a socialite, turns out she’s a swapped baby with a broke mother, and now she’s saddled with a gambling addict of a half-brother.’

Her fingers twitched. ‘Are you sure I can’t post this? Come on, this is the scoop of the year!’

I shook my head. ‘Catherine is going to hate your guts if she finds out you exposed the truth about her.’

Yvaine snorted. ‘She already hates my guts, not that I care.’ Reluctantly, she set down her phone.

Mine buzzed. I checked the message. ‘Violet Lin just got out on bail.’ I tapped a finger on the bar. ‘Barkeep, another one of these, please.’

Yvaine raised an eyebrow. ‘You might want to pace yourself. That drink goes down smooth at first, but you’ll feel it later.’

‘Sage advice from a woman who’s consumed a week’s worth of sugar, cream, and fat... plus god knows how many glasses of alcohol.’

She tapped her glass. ‘This is basically sparkling water.’

‘Yeah? How many fingers am I holding up?’

‘None, and I’m raising my metaphorical middle one at you. Proof of my totally sober mind—you just said Violet got out on bail. I deduce her family bailed her out.’

‘You’re a veritable Sherlock Holmes.’ I raised my glass to her. ‘Her family’s loaded. This’ll barely touch her. The only thing that’ll really hurt is getting fired from Nyx Collective. After that, she might get blacklisted across the entire industry.’

‘Good,’ Yvaine said, slapping her leg with satisfaction. ‘She deserves it. Same goes for Rotten Rhys. Now that the marriage is official, he’s stuck with Catherine Not-a-real-Vance, and with her comes that man, Jack. I—’

‘Jace,’ I corrected.

‘Whatever. From what you’ve told me, that guy’s trouble. That’s a diabolical plan he’s got. Rhys can’t get out of the marriage now without coughing up half of his money, and we’ll know how much he loves parting with it. Not to mention the hit to his reputation. He’s going to be the butt of jokes in Skyline for years to come if people know he married a woman who’s a fake and broke.’

I nodded. ‘That’s why I don’t want you to post about it. Rhys’s father will do everything in his power to crush this story. Once it gets out, the Granger name becomes a joke.’

Yvaine’s smile grew wider. ‘I just want to see Rhys’s face when he realises he’s trapped with that mess. I can’t stop laughing just thinking about it.’

She glanced around as several more customers trickled in. ‘What do you think of this place, huh?’

‘Your friend picked a good location,’ I said.

It was only mid-afternoon on a weekday, but the place already had a solid crowd.

‘Yeah, he called it Crossroads. Told me he noticed how, back when this was still a bakery, everyone in the area—doing groceries, going to work, out for a jog—would pass by this corner. So he bought it and turned it into a bar. Now it draws all kinds of people. Joggers, office workers, retirees, even moms on the school run.’

‘And people you don’t want to see,’ I muttered.

‘Hmm?’

I tilted my head towards the door.

A man just walked in.

Rhys Granger didn’t notice us at first.

He looked like he’d already had a few too many before stepping inside.

Lurching forward, he staggered to the counter and slammed a fist down. ‘Vodka. Double—no, never mind, just bring the bottle.’

Both our cocktail glasses jumped.

‘Sheesh,’ Yvaine muttered. ‘Of all the bars in town...’

‘Yvaine?’ Rhys turned his head slowly in a half circle, like a slow-mo sloth.

The flush on his cheeks told me just how much he’d had.

He was still in his wedding tux, though it now looked like it had been through multiple spin cycles in a tumble dryer.

‘Mirabelle.’ His gaze was bleary and struggling to focus. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I could ask you the same thing,’ I said, moving my drink further away.

‘Yeah, shouldn’t you be on your way to your honeymoon?’ Yvaine added sweetly.

‘Honeymoon?’ He laughed bitterly. ‘Catherine’s in the hospital.’

‘Yeah, I heard, sorry about your wife.’ Yvaine emphasised the last word.

Rhys didn’t register the jibe. He wobbled over and dropped himself onto the barstool on my other side.

‘I want to talk to you.’

‘But I don’t want to talk to you.’ I tried to shift away, but the barstool was bolted down. Maybe Yvaine’s bar-owner friend should fix that.

‘Did you know?’

‘Know what?’ I leaned back, wincing as his alcohol breath hit me.

‘Did you know that Cathy’s not... not Cathy?’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ l lied.

‘She never told me she had a...’ He made a face like he smelled something rotten. ‘A half-brother.’

Yvaine smirked behind him and winked at me.

‘I’ve been played, Mira. I married the wrong Vance. No, she’s not... she’s not even a Vance! She’s...’ Rhys reached for my hand. ‘I married the wrong woman, Mira.’

I yanked my hand back and gave his shoulder a sharp smack. ‘Keep your hands to yourself. And tell your story to someone else. I’m not your therapist.’

‘But you’ve got to listen!’ He whined. ‘You need to know—Cathy, she’s not your sister. She’s... I don’t even know who the hell her real parents are. That Jace guy? He’s a loser. A deadbeat. A gambler. And now he’s my brother-in-law. He got arrested. I had to bail him out. And now he’s moved himself into my house. Sitting on my couch. Eating my food. Watching my TV. I can’t...I just... How could Cathy do this to me?!’

‘So, what, if Catherine’s not a Vance, suddenly you don’t love her anymore?’ I sneered.

As much as I hated Catherine, I felt a tiny stab of pity for her if this was the kind of man she married.

Rhys just stared at me, slack-jawed.

He didn’t seem to know what to feel.

And to be honest, neither did I.

But I wasn’t about to sit here and coddle him.

‘Let’s go.’ I stood.

‘You can’t leave!’

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