“It’s justice.” I tossed my blazer over a chair. All I could think about was the quiet hotel room and Elara asleep in the center of a king-sized bed, wearing my shirt. “Cancel the rest of my day.”
I was out the door and into my Audi. My mind should have been on work, but as I pointed the car toward the hotel, I had only one ambitious, ordinary thought.
I was going to take her for pancakes.
Chapter 17
Elara
The day had been a beautiful, impossible bubble. Breakfast at a greasy diner, wandering through a bookstore, and just... being. For a few hours, the corporate and familial wars belonged to other people.
By Saturday evening, the real world seeped back in. Julian had to fly out early Sunday for a summit. As we idled in his SUV outside my building, the streetlights cast a soft glow on his profile.
“I’ll be back Tuesday,” he said, his thumb stroking my hand. “Try not to fall in love with anyone else while I’m gone.”
“No promises,” I laughed, leaning in for a final kiss. I watched him drive away, a hollow feeling blooming in my chest. I was getting attached, which was dangerous. Alastair was predictable in his dysfunction, but Julian was possessive in a way that felt like a different kind of fire.
As his taillights disappeared, my phone dinged.
Bitch ass:We need to talk. About what happened at Grandpa’s. I’m at home.
The afterglow of Julian’s affection made the text from my hubby dearest feel cold I needed to get this over with—the confrontation, the end. And I didn’t want Julian anywhere nearit. He was too volatile, and this was Ashworth business. My final piece of it.
I called an Uber—not Julian’s service. I needed to do this on my own terms.
When I arrived at the estate, my custom black-on-black wagon was parked haphazardly near the fountain, as if abandoned. I ignored it and walked inside. The house was too quiet. A maid scurried past, avoiding my eyes.
“Where’s Alastair?”
“The library, Miss.”
I found him in his father’s wingback chair, a bottle of Macallan Rare Cask on the desk. “You came,” he slurred. “Finally doing what you’re told.”
“Whatever you say, Ally. Where are your parents?”
“Out. Brielle’s upstairs. In your old room. She likes the view.” It was a deliberate prod. I didn't give a damn about that room.
“The divorce papers will be drawn up Monday,” I said. “Grandpa Lionel’s lawyers contacted me. You can make it easy, or you can make it a spectacle.”
He finally lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot. “Why do you hate me, Elara?”
The question caught me off guard. “I don’t hate you, Alastair.” To me, he was just an annoying younger brother I couldn't respect.
“Don’t lie!” he snarled, slamming his glass down. “You’ve always hated me. I was a defective product compared to you! My parents didn’t want me; they wantedyouin my skin. You were the goddamn gold standard!”
“I didn’t take anything you wanted!” I snapped. “You never wanted the business. You just wanted the title without the work. Do you think if you’d put in even a quarter of the effort I did, I would’ve ever stood a chance next to you?”
Alistair’s face twisted. He opened his mouth, but I cut him off.
“Yes, your parents praised me,” I said, my voice dropping. “But don’t get it twisted. It wasn’t because they saw me as their child. They praised me because I wasuseful. Because without me, this company would have crumbled under your incompetence. They wanted a vacation, and I made it possible.”
I stepped closer, matching his heat. “Hate me because I find you sad and pathetic. But don’t hate me because you think I stole your life. I never wanted it.”
“You were a charity case!” he roared, stumbling toward me. “A pity project! You and your family would live in the gutter if not for Grandpa.”
The insult to my family—to my mother—was the final straw. I smacked him. The sound was a sharp, clean crack that echoed in the library. It was fucking cathartic.
His head snapped to the side. For a heartbeat, there was stunned silence. Then, the self-pity in his eyes evaporated, replaced by pure, unadulterated fury. He coiled his body, a man about to hit me back. I didn't flinch. I was ready to end him.
