Victor inhales sharply. “You—you can’t do that.”
“Actually, he can,” Jack says. “There's a three-month grace period built into the contract. On page twenty-five, here.”
“That was just for if she couldn't get pregnant. She is! You just said so!”
“The grace period had no stipulations. Perhaps that's what you intended, but that's not on the contract you signed.”
Victor sputters, starting sentences he has no idea how to finish. “I—you—she—you can’t justendthis!”
“I hope I don't have to.” I lean back in my chair. “If you can agree to speak about my wife with respect, the deal can go ahead as planned. Say one wrong word, and I'm out.”
He shakes his head. “I thought you were supposed to be the Villain of Sequel. This ruthless CEO who does what it takes to make a profit. But you're going soft. You're letting yourself be ruled by a woman!”
My flat expression doesn't waiver. “Say whatever you want about me, but watch your tongue. Maura and the baby come first now. Any leverage you thought you had just became negotiable.”
CHAPTER 39
MAURA
I tap my foot as the elevator moves downward. I hadn't planned on leaving the apartment today. I woke up feeling stronger than I’ve been and I hoped to spend the day painting.
That is, until I checked my husband's shared calendar and saw my father's name.
I'm not looking forward to seeing Victor, but there’s no way I’d let him and James have a meeting discussing my futurewithout me. I might be sick, but I deserve a place in that conversation, goddamn it.
The elevator door is open, and there's no one behind the reception desk. It's no surprise that James would clear out the staff to protect his privacy. I'll have to find the boardroom on my own.
I stride down the hallway. Each office I pass is dark and empty. When I reach the end of the hallway, I hear snippets of raised voices, and I follow them. As they get closer, I can recognize my father’s tone, then my husband’s. The door is cracked open, and before I can step through it, a voice thunders through the walls.
“That’s my wife!” James roars, with so much force that it steals my breath. I stumble back a step, shocked.
I have no idea why he's saying it. All I know is that I've never heard anyone talk about me in such a territorial way before.
“How dare you talk to me like that!” my father sputters from inside.
“I'll speak to you however I wish, after you spoke about my wife like some malfunctioning piece of equipment.” My hand flies to my chest and the raucous beating there.
I've always wished someone would say these things to my father. I never imagined it would be James.
Of course, my father immediately throws a temper tantrum. “If you don't watch your mouth, I'll end the deal right now. Pages doesn't need you.”
“Fine. I'm prepared to end our deal now,” James says.
I listen, shocked, as James and the other man outline their plans to get out of the deal with Pages. It's the whole reason James married me in the first place, and now, he's willing to just throw it away. I don't know what to think. Apparently, neither does Victor.
“I thought you were supposed to be the Villain of Sequel,” he yells. “This ruthless CEO who does what it takes to make a profit. But you're going soft. You're letting yourself be ruled by a woman!”
James’s voice is low and cool. “Say whatever you want about me, but watch your tongue. Maura and the baby come first now. Any leverage you thought you had just became negotiable.”
Then the door slams open and my father storms out, his face a deep burgundy. I recognize the specific scowl on his face. This is how he looks when he's so furious, he’s got tunnel vision. I'm not surprised when he stalks down the hallway without turning his head to see me.
A moment after, another older man emerges. He wears a tailored suit and a calm expression. He sees me, and nods politely. “Your husband is inside.”
“Thank you,” I murmur and walk through the door.
James stands with his back toward me, his hands clenched tightly to the back of a chair. His gaze is fixed on the wraparound windows, showing the view of the city. I walk toward him slowly. Right before I reach out to tap his shoulder, he spins around, his eyes widening as he sees me.
“Maura,” he breathes. “What are you doing here?”
