Stealing Her
PRAISE FOR RACHEL VAN DYKEN
“The Consequence of Loving Colton is a must-read friends-to-lovers story that’s as passionate and sexy as it is hilarious!”
—Melissa Foster, New York Times bestselling author
“Just when you think Van Dyken can’t possibly get any better, she goes and delivers The Consequence of Loving Colton. Full of longing and breathless moments, this is what romance is about.”
—Lauren Layne, USA Today bestselling author
“The tension between Milo and Colton made this story impossible to put down. Quick, sexy, witty—easily one of my favorite books from Rachel Van Dyken.”
—R. S. Grey, USA Today bestselling author
“Hot, funny . . . will leave you wishing you could get marked by one of the immortals!”
—Molly McAdams, New York Times bestselling author, on The Dark Ones
“Laugh-out-loud fun! Rachel Van Dyken is on my auto-buy list.”
—Jill Shalvis, New York Times bestselling author, on The Wager
“The Dare is a laugh-out-loud read that I could not put down. Brilliant. Just brilliant.”
—Cathryn Fox, New York Times bestselling author
ALSO BY #1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR
RACHEL VAN DYKEN
Red Card Series
Risky Play
Kickin’ It
Liars, Inc. Series
Dirty Exes
Dangerous Exes
The Players Game Series
Fraternize
Infraction
The Consequence Series
The Consequence of Loving Colton
The Consequence of Revenge
The Consequence of Seduction
The Consequence of Rejection
The Wingmen Inc. Series
The Matchmaker’s Playbook
The Matchmaker’s Replacement
Curious Liaisons Series
Cheater
Cheater’s Regret
The Bet Series
The Bet
The Wager
The Dare
The Ruin Series
Ruin
Toxic
Fearless
Shame
The Eagle Elite Series
Elite
Elect
Enamor
Entice
Elicit
Bang Bang
Enforce
Ember
Elude
Empire
The Seaside Series
Tear
Pull
Shatter
Forever
Fall
Eternal
Strung
Capture
The Renwick House Series
The Ugly Duckling Debutante
The Seduction of Sebastian St. James
An Unlikely Alliance
The Redemption of Lord Rawlings
The Devil Duke Takes a Bride
The London Fairy Tales Series
Upon a Midnight Dream
Whispered Music
The Wolf’s Pursuit
When Ash Falls
The Seasons of Paleo Series
Savage Winter
Feral Spring
The Wallflower Series (with Leah Sanders)
Waltzing with the Wallflower
Beguiling Bridget
Taming Wilde
The Dark Ones Saga
The Dark Ones
Untouchable Darkness
Dark Surrender
Stand-Alones
Hurt: A Collection (with Kristin Vayden and Elyse Faber)
Rip
Compromising Kessen
Every Girl Does It
The Parting Gift (with Leah Sanders)
Divine Uprising
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2019 by Rachel Van Dyken
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Skyscape, New York
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Skyscape are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542091787
ISBN-10: 1542091780
Cover design by Letitia Hasser
Cover photography by Regina Wamba of MaeIDesign.com
Jill, thank you for being a shining light and inspiration, thank you for being brave, courageous, and perfectly you.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Epilogue
About the Author
Prologue
BRIDGE
Manhattan, July 2001
“Go to your room!” Dad yelled, disappointment evident as he stared down at my twin, Julian, and then at me. “That’s your second suspension this year!”
The blood left my face as I bit down on my lower lip to keep from screaming at him. To keep from screaming that the kids at school were picking on my twin and calling him names and that I wasn’t going to let it happen anymore. But I never yelled at my dad; it wouldn’t be tolerated. So I cleared my throat and said, “It wasn’t my fault. They were making fun of me.” I didn’t tell him that Julian was their real target. My younger twin only wanted our father to see the best in him.
Dad shook his head. “Then you tell the little jackasses who your dad is. You don’t fight every single one of them and put one in the hospital.”
Julian flinched and looked over at me with fear in his eyes. I could tell he was afraid I was going to say something about him getting picked on. This wasn’t the first time, and he hated it when Dad called him weak. Of course Dad didn’t notice the cut on Julian’s quivering lip. No, he was too focused on both of my black eyes to realize that I’d been doing what I was supposed to do, what I always did.
Protect my brother.
At all costs.
“Go to your room!” Dad pointed. “Do you realize this will make the news? That we have another deal coming down the pipeline, and because of your actions we could lose everything?”
He was exaggerating. And I hated that he brought it back to business. I was thirteen, not stupid.
We lived in a penthouse on the Upper East Side and went to private school. My dad had a driver, we had a cook and two nannies. And my dad had already told me he was going to buy my brother and me matching Audis for our sixteenth birthday.
We were fine.
So I shrugged and ran up the stairs just as I heard my mom’s soft voice. “Edward, you’re too hard on him.”
I could feel Julian rushing after me.
And I could hear the words my mom said to my dad, soft words, from an equally soft heart that was slowly being destroyed. But his voice got louder and louder.
Julian shut the door behind him, tears in his eyes.
I walked over to him, put my hands over his ears, and whispered, “Better?”
He didn’t say anything, just stared at me until I dropped my tired hands fifteen minutes later. “I’m sorry, Jules, I was just trying to help.”
“You’re always trying to help.” He shrugged. “Maybe if I knew how to fight or had half the muscle you did they wouldn’t pick on me.”
I rolled my eyes. “They pick on you because you’re a smart-ass, and they’re idiots. Plus, every girl in school’s obsessed with your hair.”
He smirked. “I do have nice hair.”
“Ass.” I punched him in the shoulder.
And just like that, things were back to normal. He was stealing my CDs and I was pretending I didn’t see him doing it. He was like that, though. He used my stuff, but if I used anything of his he threw a fit. He took after our dad that way, but I really didn’t give a shit.
The rest
of the day was uneventful.
We did our homework.
We went down to dinner while my father went back to the office to work, and my mom said grace and told us we were the only reason for living.
We had the best life.
Until it all came crashing down.
One year later
“Promise, Bridge!” Julian’s sweaty hands gripped mine. We were freshmen in high school, both believing we owned the world because that’s what our dad told us on a daily basis.
“Jules.” I pulled him in for a hug and then shoved him away with a soft punch to his shoulder. “We’re brothers. Of course we’re going to write to each other. There’s this thing called email, check it out, you—”
“Shut up.” It was his turn to punch me, and I stepped back, taking a long, hard look at my twin. We were alike but still so different. His dark brown hair fell in a mess over his forehead. His braces were gone, contacts were in, and he’d finally gained a bit of muscle since he started wrestling. He was finally coming into himself. I’d never needed braces and had always been the bigger twin, born with muscle. I was proud of his physical accomplishments, even if our dad wasn’t. “I’m serious,” he insisted.
“We’re moving to Jersey, dude, not Siberia. It’s not like I’m not gonna see you at school.” I tried to keep the tremble out of my voice. Something felt so wrong, I could feel the change in the air, feel it in the way my mom packed up her Lexus SUV.
My father had cheated one too many times.
And my mother couldn’t handle it anymore.
And since I was the troubled kid who liked to get into fights.
The one who took care of everything with my fists.
I went with Mom.
Because I fixed things.
Because I didn’t want her to be alone.
Because in a divorce, kids are too often the ones who get ripped in two directions without any say in the situation.
And because my father said that’s where I was going. Period.
“It’s going to be fine,” I said to my brother, not realizing I was lying to him.
“You promised.” He grabbed my elbow and pulled me back. “You said you’d always protect me.”
“And I always will.” I didn’t allow myself to cry. It would be fine. People got divorced all the time.
I grabbed my Ray-Bans and put them on so he wouldn’t see the pain in my eyes.
Mom drove us away from the city, away from the glitz and glamour of my dad’s high-powered deals, away from towering glass-and-steel skyscrapers, and the bright lights and nonstop bustle. As the landscape changed around us, Mom alternated between hitting the steering wheel and sobbing into the tissues I kept handing her.
Her striking Italian features, pitch-black hair, and blue eyes made me think she was the prettiest woman in the world. With his light skin and medium-brown hair, my dad was the light to her dark on the surface, but on the inside he was just . . . arrogant.
They had been a beautiful couple.
But outward beauty doesn’t keep a family together, doesn’t keep all the cracks and breaks at bay. Dad’s cruelty broke our family. And Julian and I were caught in the middle.
“Mom.” I handed her another tissue. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she croaked. “It’s going to be fine, Bridge, I promise. I’ll take care of us.”
“I know, Mom.” But I didn’t; she’d never worked a day in her life.
And it settled like a stone in my stomach. I knew Dad gave her a settlement after the divorce, but I also sadly knew there was a prenuptial agreement.
I was afraid to ask what that meant for us.
I decided not to think about it until an hour later when my mom pulled up to a small apartment complex that looked like it had been built in the fifties. The red brick wasn’t exactly crumbling, but to say it had seen better days was an understatement. White stains ran from the corners of the single-paned windows, and the brown railing on the staircase to the upper units sagged in the middle. Located below the steps were two apartment doors that were disturbingly close to one another, separated only by a pair of ragged lawn chairs. The window air conditioner in one of the upper apartments dripped steadily, just missing a thirsty patch of wilting grass but managing to erode the concrete at the base of the steps.
“Uhhh, Mom?” I frowned as people stared at us and our car. “What’s going on? Are we dropping something off for donations or—”
“Our apartment”—she jerked her head to the old brick building—“is the first floor on the right. It’s all they had.”
Relief and understanding hit me all at once. “Ohhh, until we can find a place?”
She turned off the car, bracing the steering wheel with both hands. “Do you know what a prenuptial agreement is?”
“I go to private school. I could probably write a legal document,” I said with heavy sarcasm. “Why?”
“I signed one that says I get no spousal support, only child support. We have enough to get by, Bridge. We’ll sell the car and use everything he gives us to invest, and I’ll get a job. We aren’t destitute. We just can’t afford things like—”
“Private school,” I finished for her, suddenly wondering why my dad didn’t care enough to make sure I had the life we were used to living if he was worth so much money. “Okay.” My mind worked fast, slow, then fast again as I thought about me going to Mom, and Julian going to Dad. “Mom . . .”
She didn’t look at me.
She kept her eyes on the steering wheel.
“Mom.” I injected a bit of urgency as I said it again. “When do we get to see Julian?”
Silence.
“MOM!” I didn’t mean to raise my voice, I didn’t mean for her to flinch.
And I didn’t mean to cause more tears.
“I didn’t realize what I was signing.” She shook her head. “I loved him. I thought we were forever, Bridge, you have to know that, and I had no money to fight him, nothing . . .” She sobbed into her tissue. “No partial custody, Bridge. I get you, he gets Julian.”
“But—” My body swayed as my heart leaped to my throat, making it hard to breathe. “But I promised him! I promised him, Mom!”
“You can email him, and hopefully in the future, when things settle, you can visit.”
“Mom, you don’t understand.” I reached for her arm and held on, needing the comfort of her skin. “Mom, they’ll eat Julian alive at school! If I’m not there, they’ll beat him up. Dad will—” I didn’t want to say it, but couldn’t stop myself. “Dad will ruin him. You know Julian would do anything for his approval, hell, the only reason he hasn’t been ruined already was because I kept Dad in check!”
She squeezed her eyes as two tears fell onto my arm, the one holding on to her for comfort, for help, for support. “There’s nothing we can do. Email him every day, video chat, we’ll try as hard as we can, okay? I promise.”
But I knew, on that sad day in July.
It wouldn’t be enough.
I forced a smile and said, “Why don’t I grab the bags?”
And for the first time in my young life, I understood the meaning of your heart breaking in two.
Chapter One
ISOBEL
June 2019
I didn’t recognize my college sweetheart any more than I think he recognized himself when he looked in the mirror. Julian Tennyson, easygoing, full of life and laughter, that Julian Tennyson, was gone. It was strange watching someone you love slowly lose pieces of himself until there’s nothing left.
The last six months had been absolute hell, and yet I kept telling myself it would get better, he was just under a lot of stress.
After my parents died when I was in college, the Tennysons took me in because I had no other family. They’d provided for me and made me feel like family. I needed to be a part of something, and they gave that to me.
But the gifts weren’t free.
It didn’t matter at first. I had Julian, wonder-boy graduate, voted one of the sexiest men alive under thirty, and corporate heartthrob.
Year one, we moved in together and were ridiculously happy. I did charity work, and he hit the ground running at Tennyson Financial.
Year two, he started coming home later and later, and sometimes not at all.
Year three, the cheating started.
Six months ago, he broke my heart.
He drank the Tennyson poison, and now I was going to end it.
Except nothing was calming my racing heart, not the Xanax I’d popped before I scheduled this meeting, not the bottle of wine I knew was waiting for me at home, not even the relief I knew I’d feel once I said the words and walked out of his life.
Out of the cult that was the Tennyson family, with all of their dark secrets, greed, and textbook narcissism. I shuddered. I couldn’t do it anymore.