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The imposing man’s lips drew into a tight line. He regarded me for a second and then said, “Can I come in? I have something I wish to discuss with you.”
I wanted to say no, to pull a Marissa and tell him to fuck off or something to that effect, but Anthony Weston didn’t seem like the kind of man you refused.
Instead, I nodded and motioned for him to follow me. We walked in silence. Each step harder than the last, the burden of Blake’s and my secret weighing heavily on me.
Then the thought crossed my mind—he knows.
I tried to ignore the dread churning inside me and focused on the here and now. I had to face this man eventually. He was Blake’s uncle, after all.
I opened the door and welcomed Mr. Weston inside. Thankfully, I had cleaned the place before I left, and the scent of lavender overpowered the smell of grease from the kitchen below.
After closing the door behind him, Mr. Weston took in the small room. I could see the disapproval in his eyes, the judgment. But instead of embarrassment, I felt something else entirely.
Who was he to judge me and my life?
He didn’t know the first thing about what I’d endured.
What I’d survived.
Blake had told me that losing his sister had destroyed Anthony Weston, but I didn’t see the expression of a man haunted by the ghosts of his past. I saw a man hardened and cold.
His eyes shone with nothing but contempt as I said, “What can I do for you, Mr. Weston?”
I hadn’t noticed the briefcase in his hand, but he lifted the aluminum case and laid it on the kitchen counter. “I’m sure you’re aware, Miss Wilson, that I am a man of business. I am a partner in one of the most successful law firms in Columbus, if not Ohio, and I have my name attached to business ventures across the whole state.”
I stared at the man before me, unsure where he was headed with this. “I know who you are, Mr. Weston.”
“Good, then you can probably piece together that I am here today on business.”
Business?
Alarm bells started ringing at the back of my conscience. He moved his fingers over the locks and unclasped them. The lid opened fluidly, and as he turned the case slowly toward me.
“I have a proposition for you,” he said.
My gaze fell over the neat rows of one-hundred-dollar bills, and my fingers splayed on my throat. I’m sure there was something I was supposed to say, but all I managed to choke out was, “Proposition?”
“It has come to my attention that you are somehow involved with my nephew. As I’m sure you are aware, Blake is engaged to Brittany Arnold. The wedding date is set, and preparations are well underway, and both of the families involved couldn’t be happier.”
A whimper escaped my lips, and I clasped my hand over my mouth as the pieces slotted into place.
Anthony Weston was here to make sure I wasn’t a problem.
“As you can see,” he nodded at the case, “I am willing to compensate you. This should be enough for you to relocate and start over.” He spoke as if this was just a regular business deal.
There was no emotion or feeling in his voice, and it was hard to imagine that my warm, charismatic Blake was related to this man.
“Mr. Weston.” I managed to find my voice. “I’m not sure what you think you’re doing, but I don’t want your money.” A tear slipped from my eye, and I wiped it away.
I was trying so hard to stay strong, but Blake’s uncle was here to end us.
Before we ever truly began.
“Miss Wilson, let’s not get over-emotional. You should consider this offer carefully. What do you think can possibly come of this misguided affair you and my nephew are involved in? He thinks he loves you, but he doesn’t. He loves the idea of loving you.
“What happened to him, to his mother scarred him. Foster care scarred him. Blake should have grown up in this life, with his aunt and me, and our friends. He has the world at his disposal, and with a woman like Brittany by his side, he will go far.”
“We love each other. Isn’t that enough?” My voice shook but I forced myself to meet his eyes.
