"Are you abandoning me?" My voice was a pained whisper. She took a strand of my hair, gently forcing me to meet her gaze. Her expression was agonized. "I would never abandon you. But I have to put you first. I have to make sure they can never use me as leverage to blackmail you again."
"I can take care of myself," I insisted, though my voice betrayed me. Kelsey rested her forehead against mine, her eyes fluttering shut as if the mere sight of my pain was a physical blow.
We stood there, two powerful women brought to our knees by the very ambition that had brought us together.
"Of course you can," Kelsey whispered, her voice thick with a regret she couldn't hide. "This is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make, but your career is in its most fragile stage. I won't be the reason you lose everything."
The logic was sound, but it felt like salt in a fresh wound. My pride, always my fiercest protector, flared up, eclipsing the pain in my body.
I pulled away from her touch, the warmth of her skin suddenly feeling like a brand I needed to shed. Without a word, I turned my back to her and began to pack my things, my movements stiff and robotic.
Every time I reached for a garment, my injured shoulder let out a sharp, biting protest. Seeing me struggle, Kelsey instinctively stepped forward to help, her hands reaching out in a gesture of habit and care. I whipped around, meeting her gaze with a look of pure, unadulterated resentment that froze her in place.
"You’ve made enough decisions for me today," I snapped, each word a shard of glass. "I’m leaving. Now."
I forced my trembling hands to close my suitcase, refusing to let her see a single tear. If she wanted me to be the powerful, untouchable Justice Woods, then that was exactly who she was going to get, even if it meant leaving my heart behind in this room.
#49
But when I'm home all alone, so I spend my nights with others, intertwined, to get you off my mind" Zolita
It hurts like a jagged stone in your shoe;
it hurts like the air being squeezed from your lungs until there’s nothing left to breathe.
For someone who had spent a lifetime perfecting the art of the physical without the emotional, being away from Megan felt like losing an arm, a phantom limb that throbbed with a persistent, agonizing ache.
The flight back to Los Angeles was a blur. Every photo on my phone was a sanctuary I revisited far too often; every text message was read and reread in a compulsive loop of regret. Even a flash of red hair on a crowded street was enough to make my eyes burn all over again.
She was ingrained in me, a constant presence in my mind that made the silence of L.A. unbearable. I was desperate for my next fix of her, even as I tried to force this detox for her own sake.
When I stepped into the office, the staff, those few with enough clearance to actually see the CEO, offered polite smiles and warm greetings. They said it was good to see me. I barely heard them.
My mind was already miles away, calculating the logistics of moving the entire administrative department to D.C. just for the chance of a "chance" encounter with her. I needed to be near her to survive.
"Vanessa, organize a meeting with every senator who might challenge her nomination," I commanded, my voice regaining its corporate edge as I swung open my office door. "I’ll host a thousand brunches if that’s what it takes. I want this done."
"Understood. I’ll delegate the groundwork, and we’ll handle the hardliners together. Sound fair?" Vanessa replied. I nodded and moved toward my private desk, but she intercepted me halfway, her expression grim.
"What is it now?" I asked, my patience fraying.
She ushered me into the office and slid a thick stack of documents across the mahogany surface. "I ran the audit you requested months ago. The results are in. You’re going to hate every page of this."
"I’m not in the mood for riddles, Vanessa." I flipped through the folders, my eyes catching on the final report. The numbers told a story of "micro-deviations", thefts so small and frequent theywere practically invisible to the untrained eye, yet massive in their aggregate.
I looked up, my gaze turning to ice.
"You’d better get your ex-boyfriend in here. Now."
"You really think he’s behind this?" Vanessa asked, her voice tinged with a flicker of doubt.
"I find it incredible how naive you can be when it comes to the people you’ve slept with," I snapped. She opened her mouth to protest, but I cut her off with a sharp gesture. "You know I’m right. You think that just because you ended things on good terms, he’s suddenly a saint."
"Most of the evidence points to the CFO’s advisory board," Vanessa countered, her voice remaining steady despite my bite. "That includes Richard and several administrative members. I’m not being naive, Kelsey; I just think Oliver is too small of a fish for a scheme of this scale."
She was right, of course. Deep down, I knew it. I just wanted a reason, any reason, to vent my frustration on a tangible target.
"I know that," I muttered, leaning back in my chair. "I just want to pressure him. Make him crack so he starts giving up names."
