Bound By Lies - Rafe Cameron

Chapter 8

Rafe's POV

I leaned back in the leather seat of my car, the faint hum of the engine the only sound in the otherwise silent parking lot. My fingers tapped absently against the steering wheel as I watched the entrance of the golf club from a distance, eyes narrowed in thought.

I needed a new move. Something to push her just a little further. She was starting to let her guard down, starting to believe I wasn't just the asshole she'd pegged me as from the beginning. But that wasn't enough. I needed more.

She had to see me as something else—someone she could rely on, someone she could turn to when things went south.

Which meant I had to make things go south.

I pulled out my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I found the number I needed. It rang twice before the familiar grating voice answered on the other end.

"Rafe Cameron. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Cut the crap," I muttered, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. "I need you to do something for me."

"What's that?"

"I need you to make life a little harder for someone," I said softly, the plan already forming in my mind. "She's working at the club. Goes by the name Teresa."

There was a pause, then a low chuckle. "You want me to mess with some girl? What, she turn you down or something?"

"Shut up and listen," I snapped, my patience already thin. "She's Peterkin's niece. I just need you to cause some trouble—enough to get her fired, but nothing too serious. Think you can handle that?"

"Peterkin's niece, huh?" He sounded more intrigued now, like I'd piqued his interest. "Alright, I can do that. What's in it for me?"

"Money," I said shortly. "And the satisfaction of doing me a favor."

"Deal," he murmured. "Consider it done."

I hung up, slipping my phone back into my pocket. Now came the waiting game. He'd do what I asked, stir up some trouble, and before long, Teresa would be out of a job, pissed off and desperate.

And then I'd swoop in and fix it. Play the hero. Make her think I was on her side.

It was almost too easy.

Teresa's POV

The day had started off just like any other—busy, chaotic, and more than a little exhausting. But by mid-afternoon, everything had gone downhill. Fast.

It started with a tray of drinks that somehow ended up spilled all over a group of club members. Then there was the missing order for the club's chairman that I could have sworn I'd placed. And finally, the last straw—a broken wine bottle that shattered in the middle of the bar, spraying red wine everywhere.

I stood there, frozen and horrified as Mr. Garrison, the club manager, stormed over, his face turning an alarming shade of purple.

"Teresa, what is going on here?" he bellowed, his voice cutting through the murmur of shocked patrons.

"I—I don't know," I stammered, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "It wasn't—"

"Enough," he snapped, cutting me off. "You've been causing nothing but trouble today. This is unacceptable. We can't have this kind of incompetence here."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words died in my throat. He wasn't going to listen. He'd already made up his mind.

"You're fired," he said coldly, his gaze hard. "Gather your things and leave. Now."