Briefly, I consider locking the door, slamming her up against the wall, and fucking her. There’s nothing stopping me now. Itsure as fuck didn’t hold Vivien back. Maybe I should bang this slut to get over the bitch who has taken a sledgehammer to my heart. But even the thought of touching anyone else makes my skin crawl and my stomach twist into painful knots.
“I’m not hungry.” I can’t stomach food either. “For food or anything else,” I add when she still lingers.
Her cheeks stain red, but I don’t give a fuck if she’s embarrassed. She should be.Isn’t she supposed to be a professional? Does she hit on every young guy who comes into the office?She looks young too. Probably only a couple years older than me. Fresh out of college is my guess. I doubt she’ll last long in the legal profession if this is how she plans to conduct herself.
“Okay. Let me know if you change your mind,” she says, deliberately sashaying her hips as she walks out the door.
She’s got balls. I’ll give her that.
I bark out a laugh, thinking of how Ro hit the nail on the head about Hollywood women that first time Viv came to Sunday dinner when we were all discussing it. My mood instantly sours as images of Viv flood my mind without invitation. We had our first kiss that day out in the orchard. Swallowing thickly, I lean my head back and close my eyes. Pain accosts me like a battering ram, pummeling me from all sides. The ache in my chest is so severe it feels like I can’t breathe.
Burying my head in my hands, I try to bat all thoughts of Vivien and Reeve from my mind, but it’s impossible. The image of him cradling her naked body on that balcony burns behind my eyes. I doubt I’ll ever be able to dig it out of my mind.How could she do it? How could she run straight from my arms into his?
I know I was a shithead in the pub. I was deliberately cruel and vindictive, but sheknowsme. Vivien knows how I operate. She knows I didn’t mean it. That I was lashing out in pain.So, how could she do this to me? Was she playing me all along?Did she know who I was from the start and my initial thoughts were spot-on? Was Simon behind all of this?He is getting what he wants, after all, and it’s my Hollywood who has driven me to this point. If I accept that’s the truth, it means everything was a lie. That she was acting the whole time, and I don’t think she’s that good of an actress despite who her mother is.
Ugh, round and round it goes in my head, attempting to drive me crazy.
After the flirty secretary returns with my coffee, I drink it slowly in a daze, fighting a losing inner battle. Right now, I wish I could click my fingers and be home. I want to crawl under my covers and sink into oblivion. Resting my head on my arms on the table, I wish I could rip my shredded heart from my chest so I don’t feel this gut-wrenching ache any more. I have never felt pain as excruciating as this before, though the way I felt after Ash tried to kill herself comes close.
Hurt spears me on the inside, and I want to curl into a ball and slowly die. I wonder if this is how Ash felt after what Cillian did. For the first time, I understand fully how she wanted it to stop. I’m only living with this torment a short while, and it’s already unbearable. Not that I’d ever contemplate ending my life. I would never give the Lancasters the satisfaction or ever put my family through something like that again, but I have a greater understanding of how Ash came to do it now I’m experiencing similar heartbreak.
Eventually, I’m escorted back to Mr. Lucas’s office. The older man holds out the phone to me. “Mr. Lancaster would like to speak with you.”
A muscle clenches in my jaw as I take the phone. “What?” I snap.
“Watch your tone,” he grits out. “Or the deal is off.”
“Fine by me. There are other easy ways of making five mil in L.A.”
My threat lingers in the air as silence greets me for a few beats. “That clause is nonnegotiable.” His cold tone forces the temperature in the room to plummet even through the phone.
“Then the deal is off.” I raise his cold tone with a glacial one. “I’m signing papers which forbid me from ever approaching Reeve or talking about the Lancasters. I’m aware of the consequences if I break it. Whether I’m in L.A. or Dublin doesn’t make a blind bit of difference. I can’t, and won’t, go near your precious son. My signature ensures it, so you don’t need that clause.”
“Why is it so important?”
I ain’t telling him jack shit about the band or our plans. I don’t trust he won’t try to fuck things up. “I won’t have my movements restricted. I’m signing away enough. You want me to stay away from you and Reeve, and you’ve got it.”
Mr. Lucas’s neutral exterior cracks for a split second. Compassion splays across his face, mixed with a little anger, and I decide I like him.
The sperm donor releases a frustrated sigh before conceding. “You sign that contract now, boy. No delays and it’s a deal.”
It feels good to have backed him into a corner. To have safeguarded Toxic Gods’ future. “When will I get my money?”
“The funds will be transferred to your bank account as soon as you sign on the dotted line.”
“Fine.” Handing the phone back to Mr. Lucas, I lift the pen and scribble my signature in all the places he has marked with a sticky note. He talks in a hushed tone to the prick before hanging up. Then I watch as he transfers the money via an online banking portal.
Business concluded, I grab my duffel bag and stand.
“Here’s your passport, boarding pass’ and some cash for the airport,” he says, handing over the documents. “I have a car outside waiting to take you to LAX.”
“Thank you.” I thought I’d feel lighter finally drawing a line under the Lancaster drama, but my heart feels like it’s been dragged through my body like a sinking ship.
“There’s no need.” He clamps a hand on my shoulder. “Good luck to you, Dillon.”
As I wait in the business class line to board the plane, I send a link to a newspaper article about Vivien and Reeve to Ash and tap out a quick message before turning off my phone.
Wasted trip. I’m coming home.
