Page 35 of In Love and Revenge

The moment I step inside, I flick the lock and hit the controls that turn the inner glass wall opaque.

Striding to my desk, I pull the envelope from my pocket and lift it to my nose.

The scent of something rich with a flowery depth hits me. It’s the same scent left inside my car after I gave her a ride to her boyfriend’s place.

Ex-boyfriend.

My chest rumbles with a warm grunt.

I tear the envelope open, taking care not to damage any of the writing on the front. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her handwriting. And she’s written my name.

Mine.

I pull out a pile of notes. Two crisp fifties sit on the top of a pile of twenties, totalling three hundred and forty pounds.

She’s paid me back everything from the restaurant, plus what I gave her for a taxi home.

‘Stubborn girl, aren’t you, Beauty?’ I murmur, using my thumb and forefinger to open up the envelope further.

Disappointment tugs at my gut when I see it’s empty. No note. No words that I can play over and over in my head, putting her voice to them as I picture her thinking about me as she wrote them.

I toss the money to one side on my desk and place the envelope in front of me, smoothing it under my palm.

‘What were you thinking when you wrote this? What were youwearing?’ I purr, tracing the curves of her letters making up my name.

I jab the intercom on my phone.

‘AJ? Did HR send Miss Thorne’s offer to her yet?’

‘Not yet, Mr Fairfax. I only just saw the email from Gabriel myself, and—’

‘Go down to their floor right now and ask them to do it. Stay there and watch until it’s done. Then tell me as soon as it is.’

‘Okay,’ he replies.

I lean back in my seat and glance at my office door. HR are three floors below us. AJ won’t be back for at least ten minutes, and that’s if he rushes.

I pull my phone from my trouser pocket and bring up her channel, hitting ‘play’ on today’s video before propping it up on my desk where I can see it.

Then I lift the envelope to my nose and inhale as I tug down my zipper with my other hand.

The stiff brown envelope is tucked safely inside my jacket pocket as I reach for the ornate fleur-de-lis knocker on the door. The pink one that still holds her scent is safely locked away inside the top drawer of my desk, despite the fact that keeping it puts my dick in real jeopardy of being worn away by friction.

I purse my lips, urging the swell of sour anger to retreat back down my throat.

It’s a nice house for a criminal to live in. Aurora must be laughing herself to sleep in it every night, stretching out in Egyptian cotton sheets, dressed in some silky little nightwear.

I bang harder on the door again, my patience thinning.

A woman opens it, her brows hitching as she takes me in.

‘Hello? Can I help you?’

Her gaze travels down over me slowly, then back up, a glint of interest in her eyes as she gives me a polite smile.

I frown, subtly checking the name of the house on the wall-mounted plaque to my right.

‘I’m here to see Aurora.’