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“I’m so happy for you Raina, it’s just perfect. That’s a lot of money.” Kelly gushed.
“I know. I have to pinch myself to believe that I can now do all the things I’ve planned on doing. I don’t need this job Kelly! And I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. Don’t get me wrong, it has brought me to where I am today, and I can enjoy my new found wealth, thanks to Del Mar …”
She laughed some more, no doubt at her perfidy and deviousness.
Christian could not stand to hear any more.
He tore himself from where he stood and strode purposely out of the staff wing and into the lobby of the grand hotel. His face contorted with rage. What a fool he had been!
He felt like an old rug, stepped all over, used and then thrown out into the garbage.
This was the last time, Christian swore to himself, the very last time. He would never ever be taken in by another deceitful woman.
The last place he wanted to be at that moment was at the hotel. He didn’t know if he’d be able to control his rage if he came face to face with her. He didn’t want to find out what he might do.
He didn’t need to be there any longer—Roger could take care of calling the cops and handling the rest of the investigation—and if he never saw Raina again, he would be a happy man.
He walked out of Del Mar hotel and out of Raina McMillan’s life for good.
She had broken his heart, but that was forgivable.
What was not forgivable was proving to be greedy and untrustworthy.
She would pay for that, Christian swore. He had his driver take him directly to the private airport. One of his assistants would handle packing up the penthouse apartment—he couldn’t bear to go back there.
The sooner he left Palm Beach for New York, the better he would feel.
“Mr. Del Mar, your meeting with the directors is in ten minutes.”
Christian looked up wearily. “OK, thank you Valerie.”
“It’s good to have you back sir,” Valerie, his secretary of seven years, said. She shot him a welcoming glance.
“Thank you,” Christian said with what he knew was a tired smile. He barely glanced at her before looking back at the mountain of papers he had on his desk.
He hadn’t slept much since his return from Palm Beach.
He felt displaced, as though he was in the wrong apartment—the wrong life. His New York apartment was more personal than the one in Palm Beach, yet he felt like a stranger there. He had shed his disguise and it felt good to be Christian Del Mar again, but still something remained missing.
Raina was like a ghost, lurking in the edges of his consciousness. He knew what he had to do but the thought of prosecuting her was too much. He had delayed the inevitable because he couldn’t stand the idea of putting her in jail—even though she deserved nothing less.
Still … If she was in jail, what would happen to the children? That thought was weighing heavily on his conscience.
Lost in his thoughts, he heard Valerie softly shut the door. He thought of Raina in handcuffs and the children holding on to each other in terror as they watched her be dragged out of their home. He thought of the children being sent to foster homes and being split up. He thought about all of that, and he knew deep in his heart he wouldn’t do that to them.
None of it was their fault.
Fine.
She was welcome to the money, if it had meant so much to her that she would steal for it. The money would be a small price to pay to rid himself of her in his life. Perhaps the memory of her would disappear too, once he wiped that slate clean.
Christian stood up and made for the conference room, down one floor. He wasn’t looking forward to this meeting with his division directors.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Christian said, walking into the boardroom.
“Christian!” Horace said, standing up. The three other men stood up too and shook his hand vigorously, patting Christian on the back.
They made polite small talk, before getting down to the business they needed to discuss.
