She swallows. “And my folder?”
My throat goes tight.
“That was in my office too,” I admit. “Locked. Rowan did a background check because… because I asked him to.”
Her eyes flare. “You asked him to investigate me.”
“Yes.” I don’t lie. “Because I didn’t trust anything in my life. I was raised to believe everyone has a price and everyone has an angle.”
Lucy’s breath catches, and pain flashes across her face so quickly it looks like rage.
“And then you married me anyway,” she says. “With all that in your hands.”
I close my eyes for a second. “I married you because I couldn’t stand the idea of not having you.”
Her laugh is harsh. “And then you treated me like I was disposable.”
I flinch like she struck me, because she’s right.
I open my eyes again.
“My father got into my office,” I say. “And into the penthouse. He stole that folder. He faked those photos. He staged everything. Simone was part of it... Whether she knew the full scope or not, she was used against me, against us.”
Lucy’s face turns pale at the name.
“I didn’t touch her,” I say fiercely. “Not once. I never cheated on you. I never wanted anyone else.”
Lucy’s eyes narrow, and I know she’s studying me, trying to decide what to believe.
So, I do the only thing I can do.
I give her what I’ve never given anyone.
My vulnerability.
“The reason I pulled away wasn’t Simone,” I say, voice low. “It was you.”
Lucy goes still.
“Paris,” I continue, my throat tight. “When you said… when you said you loved me...”
Her jaw clenches like she’s bracing for impact.
“I froze,” I say. “Not because I didn’t feel it. Not because it wasn’t real. But because…” I swallow hard. “Because no one had ever said that to me before. Not once.”
Silence slams into the room.
Lucy’s face shifts, confusion flickering through her anger.
“What?” she whispers.
“I have never heard the words‘I love you’spoken to me in my life,” I say, forcing the truth out even though it tastes like ash. “Not from my parents. Not from anyone.”
Lucy blinks, stunned.
I keep going, because if I stop now, I’ll lose my nerve.
“My father taught me control,” I say. “He taught me power. He taught me how to win and how to punish and how to never need anyone.”
