Shock then alarm flickered across Sam’s face. She’d gone too far, but this was so much worse than walking in on Jonas. She hadn’t loved Jonas. She hadn’t opened herself up for the first time since Dev’s death, only to be destroyed all over again. And Jonas hadn’t hurt anyone but her.

One of the men in blue suits frowned. “Sam, is that true?”

“Don’t listen to her, Peter.” Royce handed him a glass of champagne. “She’s crazy. She moved into our office and tried to start a company called ‘Excellent Recruitment Solutions.’ That was the name. Excellent. Can you imagine? And her logo looked like a raccoon on drugs. It was a joke.”

“I don’t know . . .” Peter scratched his head.

“Have you seen Tiffany dance?” Royce dragged him across the room. “Have a seat on that desk and she’ll give you a personal show.” He waved frantically at a woman in a silver dress as Peter stumbled forward. Unsteady on his feet, Peter tripped over a bottle and fell heavily against Layla’s desk. The fishbowl wobbled, then fell to the ground, shattering into tiny pieces.

Layla’s hand flew to her mouth. “My fish!”

“Don’t worry,” Royce shouted. “They were already dead. They had too much champagne.”

“I hope you’re happy now,” Layla said bitterly, her gaze locked on Sam’s impassive face. “I hope it was worth it. You got everything you wanted—the contract, the office, the building . . .”

“I want you.”

“You never wanted me.” She drew in a ragged breath. “You’re just like every other guy I’ve ever been with. I thought I’d managed to turn my life around, but it’s just more of the same. I’ve lost everything again, but this time I didn’t hit rock bottom alone. I brought my family down with me.”

“It’s for the best,” Sam said, his voice plaintive. “This isn’t a good location for a restaurant. They need to move somewhere smaller, closer to their core customer base . . .”

“Don’t throw your stupid motivational speech at me,” she shouted. “The restaurant was Dev’s dream. He bought this building for them. He planned the whole renovation. They put all their money into fixing it up. And then he died and this is all they had left. They can’t just move on. It’s not that easy.”

“Nisha needs this,” he pleaded.

“I don’t think Nisha needs it at all.” Her voice wavered. “What I saw was a woman who has been so overprotected she’s afraid to be independent. She was a different person when you weren’t around. She was funny and outgoing and fully capable of looking after herself. She wanted to go shopping and do all the things women her age do, but what she needed was an emotional push, not a physical one. She needed support and encouragement, not protection. Your guilt is stifling her.”

She drew in a deep breath, her hands shaking so violently under the tray that two of the little pots of dip had overturned. “This isn’t about Nisha. It’s about you. You want justice so you don’t feel guilty anymore, but it doesn’t work that way, Sam. Even if the police lock Ranjeet away for life, nothing will change. Nisha will still need to use a wheelchair, and you will still be the brother who thinks he failed her.”

“You don’t know anything about my family.”

“And you clearly don’t understand anything about my family,” she retorted. “This is all we have left of Dev. We aren’t going to let it go.”

“I’m sorry, Layla.” He swallowed hard. “It’s already gone.”

“Let’s get out of here.” John squeezed her shoulder. “This isn’t my kind of party, either.”

Layla’s hands curled around the tray. The dosas had withered slightly now that they were cold, and only the green chutney had survived intact. “I made masala dosas for you,” she said to Sam. “It was my first time. I used almost all my mother’s batter to get them right. I made the chutneys, too, and the sambar. It took hours. My dad sat beside me the whole time like he used to do when I was little, because he knew how important it was to me that they be perfect.”

“Layla . . .” A pained expression crossed his face, and she trembled. The urge to fling the tray at him was so strong she had to fight it away.

“You weren’t worth the effort,” she said finally. “You aren’t worth the waste if I throw them at you now, and you aren’t worth the loss of my self-respect.” She fixed him with a glare as John pulled open the office door. “And you certainly aren’t worthy of me.”

• 22 •

“I thought you’d be too ashamed to show your face at the gym.” John drumrolled the speed bag, his mouth pressed into a tight line. “Are you here to evict my law firm, too, because I’ll tell you right now my partners and I have been through that lease and there is no way you’re getting us out.”

“I came to spar with Evan. I didn’t know if you’d be here or not.” With a sigh, Sam sat on a nearby weight bench. He had been avoiding the gym for the simple fact that John would be here, but after a weekend with no way to relieve his stress, he’d finally given in.

“I almost wish I hadn’t come,” John spat out.

Sam ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know that Royce had bought the building or that he planned to evict the Patels.”

John slowed the bag. “But you didn’t withdraw the eviction proceedings, did you? Or even put a stop to the whole sorry situation, which, legally, you can do.”

“Royce put us in a difficult situation.” He twisted his hands between his spread legs. “We got the contract because of our location and because he told them we had the space to hire staff to meet their needs.”

“No.” John fixed him with a firm stare. “Don’t blame Royce. This is all on you.”

“Jesus Christ. Chill, dude,” Evan said, coming up beside them. “Give Sam a break. This was a business decision. If the Patels had paid their rent, they wouldn’t have been in this position. Sam did what he had to do. We should be congratulating him on landing a big contract and finding a way to take down the bastard who hurt his sister.”

“Still no.” John turned back to the bag and started the drumroll again. “I don’t condone hurting innocent people in the pursuit of a personal goal, and I don’t buy that business BS. You could have worked around the location. You just didn’t want to.”

“It’s not personal.” Sam said grimly. “It’s for Nisha.”

“Are you sure about that? Did you ever ask her what she thought?” John lost the beat of his bag and jerked back when it hit his chin. “Did you ask Layla?”