Unveiled (Torn #6)

Written By: Pamela Ann

Unveiled (Torn #6) by Pamela Ann

“Fate brings two people together and it is love’s job to keep them together.”

- Author Unknown


Love …

It’s such a grand emotion. It makes a rational person into a hapless, mumbling mess.

I was struck with love. Not in the love at first sight, Romeo and Juliet kind of passion, though. I was more in tune with lusting after the man who had the knack of igniting my passions, the good and the bad.

I wasn’t na?ve. I knew what love was, and what I felt for him wasn’t love. Instead, it was lust in the purest form—raw and unhinged to the point of obliteration. Yet, even if it was potent, I managed to untangle myself from it all and walked away, never wanting to look back.

However, fate intervened, punishing me for my reckless actions, seeking vengeance, unleashing its wrath as it fixed its wretched claws into me. The pressure and immediate change did me in. The veil that filtered everything for me was swept away, and I had no other choice except to accept it and face my demons, whether it challenged me to the point of lunacy or not. I stood my ground, though, proudly standing tall as I braved it out, unshielded and bared.

Only then did I realize that, no matter what lies we told ourselves to keep our blissful ignorance, someday, somehow, the truth would never cease to find its way out. One way or the other, come hell or high water, every secret we kept hidden would become unveiled.

Chapter 1


“What time is he arriving?” Trista directed the question, hovering around the entrance to my bedroom, while I triple checked my make-up, making sure I looked extra hot and amazing.

I had never meticulously primed myself this way for a man, but then again, the man in question wasn’t just any man. He was the ultimate package: dangerously handsome, downright romantic to the point that he would put Casanova out of commission, highly intelligent in and out of the business arena, crucially passionate, adored children, and the list just went on and on. While I, on the other hand, could be described with less impressive elements. Apart, of course, from my exceptional genetic attributes, most people would likely pin me as a rebel without cause or a cynical feminist who also happened to be a closet romance junkie. I’d say the majority would agree I was a major * to the highest order. Not that I wasn’t. In an odd way, I was proud to be labeled as such because no one dared mess with me. It had great perks, if one looked at it perceptively.

Breaking from my reverie, I sent Trista a quick grin before tending back to myself. “I’m leaving in an hour to get him at Van Nuys airport; then we’re immediately heading to the hotel to check-in. Then, later tonight, we’re going to see you at Bass Cole’s birthday shindig.” Looking over my dress in the mirror, I frowned at Trista when I found her giving me weird glances. “Do you think this dress is fine? I’m not sure if I should go for sexy or sophisticated …”

“How about both? You don’t want to be too boring, either, or you won’t be banging against the headboard at the fancy hotel you’re staying at tonight.” She smirked before winking at me.

Yes. Headboard banging surely was a must. I was desperate for him, and I couldn’t wait to get my greedy hands on him. Living on separate continents was extreme work, what with the time difference and the essential details that his work demanded out of him. Add his family and extra social commitments, and it could get very tricky to schedule even a phone call that would last more than five minutes.

He was always doing something, and as much as I loved him to bits, I felt the whiplash of our long distance relationship. Though, he had warned me about this when I had declined his offer for the umpteenth time to move to Athens and live with him. My life was here in Santa Barbara, however. My family and friends were within driving distance. Since Emma got married and moved in with Bass in their gorgeous home in Malibu, it was even more imperative that I cherish everyone I was close to … all except for Amber. That deceitful woman wasn’t a friend of mine.

“Thanks, Tris!” I blew her a kiss before I strolled towards my walk-in closet, hoping to find the perfect dress to meet my boyfriend/ex-husband.

Diverting my thoughts back to the much-anticipated festivities that evening with The Greek McHottie, my heart fluttered at the thought of him. The nickname brought innumerable memories of our summer in Greece when Trista and I had christened him the fond label. Dimitris was a dream come to life, and even though it took me quite a long time to realize he was the man I truly wanted, I intended to make-up for lost time by becoming the woman who truly deserved him. He was too good to me, and I was such a horrid bitch. Thank goodness I had enough sense to snap out of my idiocy and fought for him the only way I knew how. Hence, we’re about to celebrate our six-month anniversary.

I was just about to reach for the engine colored red dress when I heard Trista say, “Well, I don’t want to be a stinker, but I think I should give you a heads up.”

There was something in her voice that made me tense before spinning around with a curious look on my face. “Yeah? What’s it about?”

“About your Greek God, what else. Well, I love Dimitris— I adore him to bits—but I don’t agree with this … or whatever this is about … unless of course, you’re fine with it. Then my opinion is null and void.” She almost looked pained before she strode towards me.