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"$2 billion? Are you out of your mind? That’s a lot of risk for a piece-of-shit company like this," I growl, throwing the envelope and the document into his face. They hit him in the chest and then float down to his feet.
"I don’t care what you think, asshole," he growls back at me, closing the distance between us and pressing his index finger against my chest. "You’ll do what I say, or else I’ll ruin you… and Clarise." With that, he narrows his eyes and takes one step back. Giving me one final grin, he finally marches out of my house, slamming the door behind him.
Fuck.
Clarise
I don’t understand.
After everything that happened between the two of us, after the words we exchanged the last time we were together, Connor simply vanished. He doesn’t return my calls, and he’s nowhere to be found. It’s been one day after our little confession, and I haven’t seen him since.
Oh, God, what if Earl has done something stupid…? Something I even don’t dare think about?
I’ve been to his house and to the chapel, but he wasn’t there. Then, I enlisted one of our private drivers and he took me to the mega-church; he wasn’t there either. Nor was he in the Donovan Tower.
So where the hell can he be?
Right now, sitting in the back of the limo, I can’t help but feel that something nefarious has just happened. Connor wouldn’t disappear like that, especially when he knows that my father might need him. But what if…? What if Connor ran away from me? Maybe he simply couldn’t endure the
pressure of being with me and serving as my father’s adviser. But no, that doesn’t make any sense. Connor isn’t the kind of man to pack up and leave.
Maybe I’m acting crazy. I mean, it’s only been a day … maybe he’s busy with something else? But with what?
Then, it dawns on me.
"Take me to the cemetery," I tell my driver through the intercom, certain that Connor has to be there. Where else would a man like him turn in a moment of turmoil? If he isn’t in the church or in the chapel, he must've gone to the cemetery.
I spend the next fifteen minutes in a kind of desperate anxiety and, by the time the limo stops in front of the cemetery, I almost jump out of the car while it’s still moving.
"I’m okay," I wave at the driver and, without bothering to look back, I start hurrying down one of the small cemetery paths, the one that’s going to take me to the place where Edward was buried.
And there he is.
The sun is setting, and the shadows are already growing long. There’s a certain solemnity to his silhouette in the distance, standing in front of his father’s grave; for a moment, I almost consider turning around and leaving him alone.
But my feet carry me toward him, and neither my mind nor my soul raise their voices in protest. He looks back over his shoulder as he hears my soft footsteps over the grass, and he offers me a sad smile. Something’s wrong. Something’s very, very wrong.
"What’s wrong?" I ask him, my mouth suddenly feeling dry.
"Isn’t it obvious, Clarise?" he asks me, that sad smile never leaving his lips. Now facing his father’s grave, he continues to speak as I stand by his side. "What are we even doing?"
"Does it matter? Do we really have to think so hard about it?"
"In a perfect world, there’d be nothing to think about… Because I love you, Clarise, I really do," he says, and it feels as if I’ve been hit in the head with a brick. He loves me? "But this isn’t a perfect world, is it? And there are larger things in play here."
"Is this about your vows?"
"It’s about everything," he shrugs. "I’ve already broken my vows, I’m risking my job and --"
"Your vows don’t matter, Connor. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. And what good will come from forbidding yourself from love? As for the job, nobody will ever find out…"
"You know that’s not the truth… What’s done in the darkness, will destroy us in the light."
"Stop that!" I demand, trying to reach for him, but he just takes one step back and pushes me away. "I don’t understand, Connor! Everything was … everything was good. I don’t understand why you have to be talking like this now!"
"Just think of it. Really think about it, Clarise. I know you want to prove to your father that you can run the company as well as he does; do you think he’ll still give you that chance after he finds out about the two of us?"
"What does that got to do with anything? We’re not talking about the company! We’re talking about you and I," I protest, feeling a blend of sadness and anger welling up inside of me. I simply can’t understand why he’s quitting on us right now. And, God, it feels horrible. It feels as if the ground is shifting under my feet, ready to open up and swallow me whole.
