“You deserve better than this,” he replied roughly. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
PRESENT
Kiera gazes at me, her hand on her heart. “God. That’s awful. Did he ever speak to you again?”
“No. He paraded other girls around town for a while, but eventually, he moved away. I never wanted to see him again.”
I hadn’t.
Now, look at us.
“But…he broke up with you because it was too intense for your age, right?” Kiera leans forward, drumming her rainbow nails on my desk. I note the dreamy look in her eyes and shake my head.
“We’re not getting back together now, so don’t even think about it. It’s not a rom-com.”
More like a horror movie.
Kiera pouts. “It could be, though!”
“Kiera…” I warn, arching a brow at her.
“What did Issac want? Other than you in his bed?”
Rolling my eyes, I point at my screen. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve got work to do.”
A roar interrupts our conversation, followed by a door hitting a wall.
My eyes bulge as Blake storms from the meeting room, fists clenched. Issac hurries after him, muttering something to the men in the room behind him.
“What sort of fucking clause is that?” Blake bellows, whirling to face Issac.
“Calm down, you’re making a scene,” Issac snaps, crossing his arms.
The office is silent; all ears stretch to hear the cause of Blake’s anger.
“A fuckingscene? This is bullshit!” Blake shakes his head, pointing a finger back to the room he’s left so abruptly. “Not a fuckingchance, Issac. I’m done.”
Blake shoves the emergency exit doors open, triggering an alarm as he does.
My heart pounds in my throat, and Kiera and I exchange a worried look.
“Fuck,” Issac mutters, running a hand through his hair.
His eyes meet mine, and I send him a small smile. He grimaces in response, heading back to the room with the men in suits.
“What was that about?” Kiera whispers, and I swallow, knowing that whatever it is, it’s not good.
Not good at all.
“I have no idea.”
“Seriously…” Kiera leans forward, her eyes like saucers. “We need to find out. That meeting was about Blake taking over the company, which he wants more than anything. Right?”
I don’t reply right away; instead, I stare at the men who walk out of the room, shaking hands one by one with Issac, who looks troubled. “Right.”
“What clause would piss him off that bad?”
