Francis Benedetti?I thought he was a serious investor, not the kind to scrape the barrel for fuck-ups to invest in.
‘I wish you and Francis every success, Nick, but the reality is, you already ran one company to its knees and it was Gregory who had to come and bail you out then. Let’s just say I won’t be holding my breath.’
I try to move away from him but he slams his free arm to the other side of my head, pinning me to the wall.
‘Not so tough when you’re on your own, sweetheart, are you?’
‘This is what you do now? Try to intimidate women? Perhaps your time would be better spent improving your business acumen.’
My heart is pounding in my chest. I hold his gaze even though there’s no denying I’m afraid.
‘You think you’re so fucking perfect, don’t you?’ He removes one hand from the wall and swirls a finger in my face, a sadistic grin drawn on his plump lips. ‘I know your dirty secrets. Oh, yes, Katrina Martin has told me about your corruption. How you’re covering up for your fiancé, how he bought his way out of prison. Bought his way out of prison so he could steal my company out from under me. Yes, I know all about it.’
Katrina told Nick Henshaw? What does she have to do with Nick Henshaw?My head is spinning. In part from the new information but mostly because I need to get out of this situation.
‘Let me go,’ I snarl, taking advantage of his dropped hand to step away from him.
I get two steps before he pulls my waist and rams me back against the wall, my head crashing against the plaster, fuzzing my vision for a second.
‘Don’t rush, I haven’t said congratulations yet. I’m pleased you two are getting married. Really, I am. You know how I like fucking other people’s wives.’
His face is ripped away from mine and slammed back against the opposite side of the corridor as a large vase shatters across the tiled floor. Gregory pins Nick Henshaw by the throat, the sinews of his neck rigid and bulging, his body tall and strong. He’s raging and this time, there’s no one to stop him. He slams his fist into Nick’s face, drawing blood from his nose and eye, then lets his limp body fall to the floor as staff, then guests, teem into the corridor.
I can do nothing but stare in shock.
‘Let’s go,’ Gregory says, tugging my shoulder and moving us quickly down a staircase. He takes his phone from his inside pocket and dials. ‘Now. At the back entrance.’
I follow in a daze as he leads us along corridors and eventually out of a back door where Jackson is waiting with the Bentley.
Jackson opens the back door and Gregory holds me by the shoulders, gently shaking me until I look at him. ‘Are you okay?’
I nod, first slowly, then quicker, until my brain starts to function in real time. ‘Yes. Yes. I’m fine. Your hand.’
‘It’s fine,’ he snaps, taking it to the rim of the door and encouraging me to climb into the back seat.
I wait for him to open the door and slide in beside me, but he doesn’t; he gets into the front passenger seat and before I’m over that subtle gesture, he rolls up the partition between the front and back of the car, blocking me out of his conversation with Jackson.
He just knocked a man’s nose across the other side of his face. He got us out of there before the press could show interest. Despite his red and swelling hand, he askedmeifI’mokay. This is what I keep telling myself in an attempt to rationalise my building anger at being isolated in the back of the car like a child as he has a private conversation with Jackson.
It’s not the solitary confinement that irritates me most, though; it’s the fact he didn’t overhear the majority of Nick’s venom before landing his fist in Nick’s face. Sitting here now, I realise that’s because he didn’t need to. He already knew.
Jackson parks the Bentley and I’m out of the car first, slamming the door, heading straight for the basement’s lift vestibule.
‘Scarlett.’ My name is bundled amongst frustration, tiredness and yes, ironically, anger.
Heis angry withme?You’ve got to be kidding.
I turn quickly, my breaths jagged with rage. My reaction stills him and we stand facing one another, staring, both of us indignant.
‘You knew,’ I fire. ‘You knew he was there tonight and you knew he was in bed with Francis.’
‘Yes.’
Jackson moves slowly in the background, feigning interest in nothing on the side of the car.
‘Why have you sat chatting with Francis as if it means nothing?’
‘Because it doesn’t. It’s business. He’s made an investment. And just in case, I like to keep potential enemies where I can see them.’
