Liv was at her desk when I rounded the corner into the executive suite. She looked up, her beaming smile rapidly shrinking.
“Everything okay, Henry?” she asked. I shook my head mutely. I needed to deal with this before brunch with Ri, before I fixated and let it ruin things. I needed the brunch to be perfect.
I told myself it was for show. The media, even if just the tech circles, was watching closely. We had to play our roles. But that wasn’t the full truth.
Last night I’d crossed a line. Not that she knew how far. To her, the messages were just smart groundwork for the immigration case—especially after I’d been the one to draw the line in the spa.
But for me? Every word I typed, I meant. And that scared the hell out of me.
It wasn’t just the things I wanted to do to her—the filthy, intimate things. It was the way I felt about her, my wife, and that was the real danger.
I’d been trying to get my head straight, to face her after what I’d done to myself while texting her, when I saw the TechRaker article. My confused yearnings for Ri were warring with rage at Atlas after reading that article this morning over coffee. I was almost certain that Atlas had fed them the move to the US narrative.
Lucian appeared out of nowhere, falling into step beside me as I continued around the curved glass wall of the tower in the direction of Atlas’s office.
“You saw TechRaker this morning,” he guessed. I nodded, nostrils flaring as I sucked in a deep, calming breath.
“I know there was a lot in that article for you to be angry about, Bax,” he added, tone careful. “But he’s in a meeting right now, and Idon’t think you want his guest to be privy to anything that you might have to say … about the future of the business, or about … her.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded sharply before shoving my glasses up my forehead and rubbing my eyes. “Sorry. This is in no way your fault, but it was a lot to take in this morning. Who’s in with him?”
Lucian’s mouth tightened. So, it was someone I wouldn’t approve of. That didn’t exactly narrow the field, but Atlas had always been reckless with business—and until now, it had worked out for us.
Until he started the rumour about us moving to the States.
I exhaled, trying to be rational. Maybe he hadn’t started it. Maybe it was just a creative journalist looking to stir the pot. I should give him the benefit of the doubt. But it felt too convenient, especially knowing how strongly he believed we were limiting ourselves by staying in Australia.
I was almost at his office now. He’d see me any second through the glass. I stopped, flexing my fists to control the tension rippling through me. If I walked in rattled, he’d dismiss whatever I said.
And that’s when I heard her voice—sharp, raised in anger. Or was it panic? I couldn’t tell.
“So it’s true, then? That he’s been secretly married to her for weeks?” Cadence demanded. “Before I ever met her? Oh God, is that why Lucian escorted her downstairs on the yacht? Because she’s been living with him this whole time?”
I held my breath, waiting for Atlas to respond.
“Cady …” Atlas sounded weary. “If you want to know about this so badly, why don’t you ask him?”
Cadence’s laugh was verging on hysteria. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s iced me out! Nothing I do or say will convince him that I’ve changed … that I would be good for him now!” She choked on what sounded like a sob. I glanced at Lucian’s clenched jaw. He’d never like Cadence. Then again, he didn’t seem to like Ri much, either.
“You can’t exactly blame him, Cady. You tore out his heart and trampled all over it, in a restaurant full of people, while he sat there with an open ring box, ready to propose to you!”
“Oh! So that’s a good reason to marry the first woman who shows him even a modicum of interest since me? It’s not lost on me that he’sbeen single for six years, Atlas! She’s a gold digger, and … she’s barely better than a whore! Has he lost his mind?”
Red tinged my vision, and my emotions overtook rational thought. I strode the last few steps into Atlas’s open office. The twin looks of shock on their faces barely registered against the pounding of my pulse in my temples.
“Do not speak about my wife that way!” I snarled, fists balled, muscles bunched.
Cadence’s face twisted. “Your wife …?”
I nodded. “My wife. Not that it is any business of yours whatsoever.”
Atlas leaned against his desk, his arms folded over his too-tight business shirt, and smirked. I ignored him. I’d deal with my issues with him later, once Cadence was gone.
Cadence’s eyes dropped to my left hand, brows knitting when she spotted the wedding band. “I don’t believe it,” she muttered. “I don’t believe that you could be this dense, Hen!”
A furious growl rumbled up my throat. “How is it that you think you get an opinion on the decisions I make in my private life, Cadence?”
She stepped closer, eyes watering. But she’d always been good at pretending feelings she didn’t have, knowing that she could trick me. My nails dug into my palms.
