The executive across from me droned on about market share. Those numbers grated worse than nails on a chalkboard. I stood, cutting him off mid-sentence. "We're done here. David will reschedule."
I walked out, ignoring the stunned looks behind me.
In the elevator, I called Natalie. The ring stretched out endlessly before going to voicemail. Five times. Five fucking times. Finally, I had to accept a fact that made my temples throb.
She'd blocked me.
I floored it back to the apartment, already rehearsing what I'd say. "Natalie, what the hell are you playing at?" But when I pushed open the door, I froze.
My slippers were gone from the entryway. My jacket had vanished from the couch. The groceries I'd bought were cleared from the kitchen counter. My water glass, pen, scarf from the nightstand... Every trace of me had been erased, like I'd never existed here at all.
Damn it. She'd thrown out my stuff? What the hell had gotten into her? This came out of nowhere. Just last night, we'd had perfectly good sex.
I called David, barely containing my rage. "Find out where Natalie is. Now."
Two minutes later, he called back. "Sir, your wife—uh, Miss Green is attending a fashion gala in Las Vegas. Notting Hill Rose Hotel."
The Notting HillRose Hotel lobby blazed with light, crystal chandeliers turning everything bright as day. The moment I walked in, half the room went quiet. Guests with champagne flutes, women in gowns, businessmen mid-conversation—every eye landed on me. I was used to it. My whole life, wherever I showed up, this was the effect.
But I didn't look at any of them. I cut through the crowd, my gaze locked on the center stage.
She wore a silver fringe dress that fit like it was made for her—not too tight, but showing off the fuller, softer curves pregnancy had given her. No mask. That face that obsessed me was right there for everyone to see, so beautiful it made me want to possess her no matter what it took. Natalie held themicrophone, and when she opened her mouth, her voice came out low and lazy, broken and sexy, every note dragging across my skin like a feather. I got hard instantly.
Christ.
She was even more stunning than I'd imagined. More captivating. More capable of making me lose control.
The song ended. Applause thundered. Before I could reach her, some guy beat me to it. Carl Vincent. A fairly well-known independent music producer in LA.
Carl leaned in, listening to Natalie with complete focus. The way he looked at her was obvious: appreciation, admiration, and aggressive intent. And Natalie was actually smiling at him. A real smile, so much better than the forced ones she gave me. That thought drove me insane.
I strode through the crowd and stopped right in front of them.
"Carl." My voice wasn't loud, but it cut through their cozy little moment.
Carl turned. When he saw me, surprise flickered across his face. "Richard? Didn't expect to run into you here. Since when are you interested in these kinds of events?"
I ignored him. My eyes were on Natalie.
When she saw me, she instinctively stepped back half a step. What was that supposed to mean? Was she trying to distance herself from me for Carl's sake? Damn well better not be.
Carl's gaze swept over me with amusement. "Richard, Miss Green and I were just discussing a very interesting musical collaboration..."
"She's not available." I cut him off. "Not now. Not ever. Carl, you need to stay away from her."
Carl's smile faded slightly, but he still had the nerve to provoke me. "As far as I know, your marriage to Miss Green is over. I'm approaching this as a music producer talking businesswith a singer who has real potential." He paused, like something had just occurred to him. "Oh, right, speaking of which, I was invited to a music festival competition at her college years ago. Had the privilege of hearing her perform. I remember exactly how I felt—absolutely love at first sight. Unfortunately, she married you after that. But now that Miss Green is single again, I think I have every right to express my admiration and pursue her."
I stepped forward, voice dropping low with chilling menace. "Carl, Natalie belongs to me, every inch of her, past and future. You'll never get a chance, and neither will anyone else. Keep your admiration and your pursuit to yourself. Otherwise, I don't mind bankrupting your music company. And I mean it." Because it would be as easy as breathing.
Carl's expression turned ugly. I didn't spare him another glance. I grabbed Natalie's wrist and started pulling her out of the ballroom.
"What are you doing! Richard! Let go of me!" She struggled, voice tight with anger and alarm.
"Looks like I've been too lenient with you lately, Natalie." I held her wrist tight, leaning down to murmur in her ear, breath hot against her sensitive skin. I felt her tiny shiver with satisfaction—whether from anger or something else. "You actually blocked me? Threw out my stuff? Who gave you permission?"
"What I do is none of your business!!" She forced the words through clenched teeth, trying to turn her face away, but I grabbed her chin and made her look at me.
Her breathing quickened. Her chest rose and fell, silver fringe swaying with each breath, catching the light. Her eyes were getting red, but the tears didn't fall—she was holding them back. That stubborn, damn, infuriating expression that I both hated and loved.
