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training in my marketing work, I'd also taken another job that had brought me back to London. And to be honest, my passport had been stamped in France, and then I'd taken the train, but no one needed to know that. Immigration would mark that they'd seen me come through, but Bridge wouldn't have access to that. Nyla might, but I didn't think she'd rat me out like that.

The point was, they didn’t own me. I was the one who'd gotten them started on this vengeance thing to begin with, and now they wanted to kick me out of it?

Toby was my brother. I deserved vengeance just as much as they did.

I’d been watching Bridge for the last two weeks, and it was true… He and Mina had broken up, so he'd been rambling around that house by himself. Sometimes, when he'd work late, he'd stay at his suite at the hotel. I'd been watching the house all day, and he still hadn't returned, so it meant he was very likely going to stay at his suite.

I parked my car and walked the block up to the house in Belgravia. I smiled to the security guard, who I recognized from the last couple of times I'd been there, and he said, "Oh, Miss Varma."

"Yes, I'm here to see Mr. Edgerton. Is he here?"

He shook his head. "No. Actually, he's not. He won't be returning this evening."

Even better. I would grab his laptop, have a quick look, and I'd be in and out before he even knew anything. Sure, he'd see me on the security cameras eventually, and the guard would tell him I’d been there, but I'd be long gone by then.

"Would I be able to go in? The last time I was here I left something behind, and I sort of need it now. I have the code."

The furrows of his brow eased before they even started to form. "Oh, you know the code. Please type it in here, and you may enter."

That was the thing about being forgotten. While we'd been meeting, we all had our own personal codes so as not to deal with security every single time we came. Even though Mina's had been changed, there was no reason to change any of ours. Bridge had simply forgotten that I had access to his house. Amateur.

I typed in my code and then said a little prayer to every God I could think of. I’d once been a devoted Catholic, but I hadn't darkened the door of the church in at least fifteen years. But now, it seemed like as good a time as any to find my faith. When the screen lit green, he nodded and pressed his own code to open the gate. "Just use the same code for the front door and you're good to go."

"Oh, excellent. I won't be but a minute."

I went in swiftly, as if I owned the joint. Bridge thought he was so slick in keeping me away from all of this, but what he didn't understand was that I would not sit back like a little woman. Toby would have expected me to be a hundred percent myself. And this was me being myself. Bridge Edgerton could kiss my ass. He'd been telling me what to do for years, but I was done with being controlled.

When I let myself in the house, a giddy sense of excitement tripped over my skin as his scent hit me. No longer was there a hint of femininity in the house. No bowls of potpourri, but more of the scent of sandalwood. And it made a part of me deep inside clench. I loved that smell. Why did he have to smell so good? Honestly, he was a pure asshole, but he smelled like a fucking delight.

I thought back to that one kiss that we'd shared when we were kids. Possibly the hottest kiss I'd ever had in my life. But he'd walked away, vowing to never touch me again, which was fine, because I had zero interest in being controlled for the rest of my life.

A quick search of the house told me his laptop wasn't there. And that's what I fucking needed. There was a prick at the back of my eyes as I resisted the urge to cry. No. All this meant was that I was going to have to go to his suite in the hotel. And that would take a little more ingenuity, but I wasn't giving up. Bridge Edgerton had another think coming if he thought I was just going to sit back and do as I was told.

* * *

Bridge

I hadn't been staying at the house lately. Suddenly, it seemed I had turned into Ben before Livy came along. I had a big fancy house and refused to stay in it.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

What's wrong is that the woman you thought you loved was sent by your fucking father.

It was like the old man would never cease to be a thorn in my side.

He wanted nothing to do with me publicly, but he still wanted to control me.

I grabbed the pillow and rolled over in the bed again. I was hot. Tight. Itchy. I just wanted out of my own fucking skin.

It was then that I heard something in the other room.

What the fuck was that?

I sat still, calmed my breathing, and waited. That was definitely a muttered curse coming from the living room of the suite.

Fucking Christ, that was the last thing I needed. There had been a time when I'd been a different person, rough around the edges, the one that was likely to end up in jail. Angry all of the time, and I was angry for reasons I couldn't control. I’d smoothed those rough edges and made something of my life, but now, it seemed like the old me needed to come to the forefront or something very bad was going to happen.

Under my bedside table, I

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