“You’re sure he’s guilty?”
“I’m sure he covered it up. I’m sure he’s crooked as fuck in his business dealings, and that’s enough. But this isn’t just about me. My motives aren’t purely selfish.”
“I never said they were.”
“It’s business.”
“Business. So, I assume that kiss was business too?”
“It was to make a point, and you questioning it is the sole reason for our conversation.”
“If this is a proposition, I’m not interested. You can take your business elsewhere. This conversation is pointless, as is your presence in this house. I’ve told you, it’s not my place to pay for his mistakes, and you have no say in my life whatsoever. I owe you nothing. And this concludes our business, so you can see yourself out.”
In a flash, he crosses the kitchen and painfully grips my jaw in his hand. “My curiosity stems from the fact I was lied to and gutted by the two people I trusted most in the whole fucking world. I think you know how fucked that feels. I’m pretty sure you’ve been there, recently.”
A long silence passes before he speaks. “I’ve spent over half my life making plans and setting them in motion until you showed up—” He tightens his hold as my lips squish together. “I’m trying really hard here to have an adult conversation with you. I was angry, I’m still angry, and it’s not going away anytime soon. But I’m going to do my best to try and talk this out with you because it’s what adults do. So, I’m going to release your mouth, and you’re going to do your best to work with me because, like it or not, we need to come to a business arrangement. At this point, we’re both holding cards the other needs. And maybe, if you play nice, I’ll give you some of the answers you seek. A conversation is what I’m asking for. Nothing more. If it was pussy I was after,” he pauses, his eyes dipping to my heaving chest, “I would’ve had it already. My patience is running thin, so I’m calling a temporary truce so we can sort this out before it gets any uglier. Blink once if you agree, twice for disagree.”
Furious, I fight his hold and his eyes flare in warning.
I blink once.
He releases me and I work my jaw to get the burn out. “Jesus, you’re a bastard.” He rips his eyes away from me and walks over to the stove. “So, is this what you do to women? You break into their houses, assault them, and then force-feed them?”
He pulls a strainer from the cabinet and drains the noodles.
“I can’t imagine how any woman puts up with this shit long-term. It’s ridiculous. What kind of life can you build with someone based on lies?”
“Trust,” he corrects sourly, “It’s based on trust, not lies. And right now, I’m running short.”
“You say trust. I say omissions and half-truths. At least that’s what I got from it.”
“Depends on who you’re with.”
“It’s a good thing I’m not with anyone.”
He doesn’t so much as spare me a glance as he tosses the pasta under cold water.
“Your feelings make you a reckless loose end, Cecelia, which is really fucking bad for business. I told you when we met; you were loyal to them for the wrong reasons.”
“You mean love. But that reason doesn’t matter anymore. I’m moving on. I’m dating again. And you know that.”
He looks over to me, skeptical brows raised.
I match his stance and lift my chin. “Wait…that’s what this is about? Because I’m dating, trying to move on, you think that I’m going to spill your secrets to the next guy I sleep with?”
His silence infuriates me.
“Newsflash, I’ve been in far worse shape before now, I’ve been angrier, far more resentful and haven’t uttered a word. Not even to the people closest to me. Your logic is ridiculous.”
He doesn’t flinch. “You were still waiting. Therefore, you were still loyal. Think about it objectively for a second. If you were me, would you put the fate of your entire fucking operation in the hands of an emotional lit—” he rolls his eyes as my expression hardens, “twenty-year-old woman.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you—”
He shakes his head ironically. “Took your boyfriends away? You keep proving my point. And if we’re going by track record—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence! I’ve been insulted by you enough to last a lifetime. You’re a sexist pig.”
“Say what you will, but twice I’ve seen you let your emotions overrule your judgment, and I’m not willing to gamble on that.”
And then it hits me.
“This isn’t a conversation. This is a negotiation.”
He’s here to strike a deal.
Not once in my time here have I ever taken advantage of my position. But I’ve learned well that everything comes with a price. And I seem to be the only one who’s been paying it. Until now.
“You truly don’t believe love and loyalty go hand in hand?”
“Two separate words with two distinct definitions. But if you look up the synonyms for love,” his eyes lock with mine, “I’m sure you’ll find weakness amongst them.”
“And what exactly is it that you think you have to barter with? You took away the only—”
He raises his brows.
My inheritance. “My mother—”
“If I move in now, it all goes. All of it. But I can’t take that chance, can I?” He shrugs. “So, what’s a few more months.”
That’s his card. He’ll wait to move in on my father until I’ve signed for my inheritance. Sean told me he would try to hold him off, and I admitted to him just nights ago my purpose for being here, but no matter how he got the info, it’s leverage.
Fuck.
It’s time to show my card, but we already know what it is—my silence. If I speak up, I may be able to stop him from taking my inheritance, from getting his revenge. He sees it the minute I figure it out.
He lifts his chin. “Name your price.”
“You really don’t believe I’m capable of keeping my mouth shut without being blackmailed?”
“This isn’t blackmail. And your real question is, do I trust you? Fuck, no. But don’t take it personally.”
I open my mouth to snap out a worthy retort, but he raises his hand.
“Let’s save the insults for dessert. You need to really think about what you want.”
I want him to pay, that’s what I want. I want to strip him of some of his confidence, to humiliate him the way he has me. I want to hurt his pride and his feelings if he’s capable of having them. And that’s when the idea strikes me.
His eyes flare when he reads the price in my expression. “Cecelia—”
“Promise me my father’s safety.”
“You can’t be serious.” He curses and shakes his head disbelieving.
“It’s the only thing I want. Maybe he does deserve whatever you do to him financially, but you yourself said you were never going to hurt him physically, so what’s the harm in making you swear to it?”
“Like I said, he has other enemies.”