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“I won Val back, but not without a fight. While I kept her in Atlanta, she begged me to contact Luna. I, of course, told her it was out of the question. I purchased your company, wanting to be close to you, wanting to study you, to see what made you tick. Because the end game…” Jordan got up, scooping the papers on the coffee table and tucking them under his arm. “The end game was to end you.”
The moment of epiphany made me feel like Samson on his last breath, when God gave him the strength to pull the pillars, bringing the roof down. Samson got killed in the process, but he took the Philistines down. I knew I’d do the same if I had to.
Jordan bought my company because he wanted to demolish me, personally and professionally, so that he’d have more control over that. And to punish me for something I wasn’t even aware.
He promised Val a happily-ever-after and her kid back.
He wanted to frame me, ruin me, and take what’s mine. The woman I didn’t want and the girl I’d do everything for.
Jordan flicked the papers, causing them to rain down on the floor, and tugged at Val’s limp arm to get her up from my couch. “And with Luna not wanting to talk, this is going to look very bad in court, Rexroth. You traumatized her with your lifestyle—she’s too terrified to make a sound. With that in mind, I suggest you hand us your resignation first thing tomorrow morning, sell me your shares in the company, and meet us this weekend to discuss joint custody with Val. She wants in on Luna, and she expects you to pick up the bill for her accommodation. I think it’s fair.”
I smiled as the documents scattered all around us. What Val wanted was access to my money. Bonus points: living in a glitzy SoCal town close to her multi-billionaire lover who was smart enough not to marry her ass.
Jordan stormed out, his shoulder brushing mine. “Keep the duplicates, Rexroth. My treat.”
I was still standing there with my heart in my fucking throat and my soul clutched in my fist when Jordan and Val reached the door. She looked like a guilty, apologetic mess, and he looked like the devil. He turned around.
“Trent Rexroth being mute. Hardly a surprise.”
“You want words?” I took a step in his direction, grinning. “Here’s something to tide you over: thank you for giving me the play-by-play of your game. Keep your eyes open.” I pushed both of them out of my apartment, my arm slung over the door. The last thing I said before slamming it in their bewildered faces was, “My turn.”
“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE MAKING me do this,” I moaned, knocking Bane’s shoulder with mine. Dark sunglasses covered the better part of my face, shielding my pumpkin-sized puffy eyes. I wore one of his surfing tank tops and short shorts, because I hadn’t had time to grab anything from my parents’ mansion before my father changed the locks and essentially kicked me out without giving me the chance to grab my stuff.
Bane and I stood on his mother’s wide porch. The rustic material and elaborate, colorful garden were oddly reassuring. Someone who lived in such a warm, inviting place couldn’t be the type to hurt me, right?
“It’s been a long time coming. Especially now when Rexroth is busy playing house with his ex.” Bane pushed his blond hair up into a bun, rapping the door loudly. I thought it was weird that he didn’t walk in, but Bane was a master when it came to strange relationships. Considering he’d moved out of the house at eighteen and not gone to college, I figured he liked his space, and maybe his mother did, too.
“She’s not his ex, and I have no evidence they’re playing house together.” I sniffed, rubbing my tired eyes beneath the shades. Seeing Val there had hurt like a thousand violent deaths, but I tried to tell myself that this was what was best for Luna. And Trent…if he wanted to get back with her, I couldn’t blame him. I knew nothing about relationships, nothing about being a parent, and next-to-zero about how to keep a family united.
The door swung open, and the person on the other end knocked my breath out of my lungs.
Bane stepped in, oblivious to the fact the rug, once again, had been pulled out from under my feet.
“Gidget, this is my mom, Sonya. Sonya, this is Gidget, also known as Edie Van Der Zee.”
Sonya.
The redheaded woman Trent had been having sex with when I’d walked into his office. To get back at me for allegedly having sex with Bane. Her son. I didn’t know whether I should feel horrified or annoyed at this. Sonya obviously shared my feelings, because she took a step back from the door and clutched the fabric of her baby blue blouse, momentarily rendered speechless.
