“You didn’t do anything wrong.” I swallow the fear before unleashing the truth. “Malcolm is blackmailing me.”
He pauses his pacing, the dark frustration in his eyes turning into liquid rage.
“The photos?” he asks in a low, morbid tone.
I take a breath, not moving from the door. “No, it’s... something else.”
His anger briefly subsides as he takes a step forward, his expression softening ever so slightly. “What else can he do to you? What else is there? If he did something to you again, I swear I—” He runs a hand over his mouth. “Please just put me out of my misery.Pleasetell me I’m not a complete chump for falling for someone I know is keeping secrets from me.”
I blink at his confession. He doesn’t flinch. He either doesn’t realize what he just said or is so confident in his feelings that this is going to hurt so much more.
My voice comes out low and weak. “It’s somethingIdid, not him.”
Oliver’s eyes creased, scanning my face for some sort of answer.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I’ve wanted to tell you. It’s why I had to leave that night before things went any further; it’s why I—” My voice cracks and I stop, trying to regain my composure.
He steps forward, takes my hand, and holds my gaze. “I told you, you can trust me.” He says it in a way that makes my heart shatter. Knowing in my bones that I can trust him, but after I say this,hewill never trustmeagain.
My voice cracks as I attempt to explain. “Malcolm is blackmailing me because he knows the truth. The truth about me.”
Oliver’s face tenses, the pulse in his wrist jumping under my fingers.
I close my eyes, taking my final breath as a person in denial. “Spencer isn’t my boss; he’s my brother. He’s an actor who stepped in to pretend to be the CEO and founder of Wyst.”
He blinks, trying to absorb the information. “So where is the real CEO?”
“Right here.” I realize I’m shaking, not just my hands but my entire body. Like the lies are poison leaking out of my pores. “Spencer is pretending to be me. Wyst ismycompany.”
His face softens; whether it’s shock, sympathy, or pity... I don’t know which one is worse.
He steps forward, shaking his head, his brows forming a tight line. “Vi, I—”
I step back, holding my hand up. “I’m not finished. My name isn’t Violet; it’s Jess. Jess Cole.”
He leans against the ornate desk, rubbing his face with his hands. I stand in silence with nothing more to say, everything I’ve been keeping a secret laid out in the chasm between us, hoping that maybe the truth will fill the space.
“Everything you told me about you, about—” He stops himself, swallowing the question. He gestures between us. “Was any ofthistrue?” I know what he’s trying to ask from the hurt in his eyes.
Everything you told me, everything we shared, every time I touched you.
I blink away the heat building behind my eyes. “It’s the only thing Ihaven’tbeen lying about.”
He stares at his hands clasped in front of him. “Why?”
I wring my fingers, moving tentatively to lean next to him instead of awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. “Wyst was getting zero traction and I was running out of money.” I shake my head, correcting myself. “I’mhemorrhagingmoney. It’s simple A/B testing, really. The only variable I could see was that I’m a woman. So when I made a mistake on the application and they thought I was ‘Mr. Cole,’ I went along with it. My bills were piling up. I was desperate.”
“So you got Spencer to take the call with me,” he adds, his face shadowed by the lamplight.
I suck in my flaming cheeks. “Not exactly...”
He slowly turns to me, confused for a second before his eyes go wide. “That wasyou?” His mouth hangs agape, his head shaking. “How?”
“I got our tech guy to set up a voice changer app.” I shrug, a tight, awkward half-smile plastered across my mouth.
Oliver stares into the abyss, his eyes’ focus jumping between the portraits on the wall in front of us as he tries to recall the conversation.
Finally, he cuts a look back to me. “On the call... I heard a woman’s voice halfway through.” He tilts his head, dark eyes laser focused.
