The stairs to my bedroom feel endless. Each step is a question I can't answer.
I sink onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.
Could I do it? Frame Bill’s threat as a legitimate business transaction? Blackstone does need ongoing environmental counsel. The work is real. The contract would be fair. Everything above board.
Except it wouldn't be. Not really.
Because I'd know. Every time I walked into a partners' meeting. Every time I signed my name with "Partner" after it. I'd know I didn't earn it. Not really. Not the way I thought I would.
Thorne has already said he’d do it.
The question is, canIdo it?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Thorne
The rain sounds different when you're alone.
Water streams down the billiards room window in relentless sheets. I follow the patterns so I don’t have to turn around and face the empty room.
I should go after Ivy. Climb those stairs, knock on her door, figure this out together.
But she asked me to stay out of it. Made me promise.
I turn from the glass, her shoes are still by the leather sofa where she kicked them off, smiling at me over her shoulder, daring me to play. Had that been less than an hour ago?
And now, I’m standing here like an idiot, doing nothing, while Ivy's upstairs dealing with the consequences of my actions.
Walking toward the door, my side bumps into the drink cart. Snatching up my bourbon, I swallow it in one gulp. The burn does nothing.
Bill is using Ivy. My name. My visibility. The fact that I couldn't keep my hands off her for five minutes at that club.
I refill my glass, but don't pick it up.
I knew who she was. I pursued her anyway. And now Bill's treating her like a disposable asset he can use to make his profit margin.
I drain the bourbon. Set the glass down.
And I promised Ivy I wouldn't call Bill. Promised I'd let her handle it.
The promise is choking me.
I pace to the pool table. Back to the windows. The rain hasn't let up. If anything, it's getting worse.
My phone sits on the bar cart, screen dark. Bill's number would be easy enough to find. I could have it in thirty seconds.
No. I promised.
But how am I supposed to keep that promise while Ivy loses everything?
Because here's the truth I can't get past: this is my fault. Not Ivy's. She didn't ask for my name, my baggage, my complications. She came here for her sister and was pulled into this mess. Knowing who she was, I should have stayed away, but instead I pursued her, knowing there would be a cost. There always is with my family.
And I'm supposed to do nothing.
People I care about pay the price for being in my orbit.
Wait.
