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But there was a part that didn’t make sense. Why had Jonas called me Liz the night of the attack, and not Beth? Had Mason actually tried to protect me in some way? Maybe he’d referred to me as Liz to shield my identity. And if so, maybe he’d done even more. Maybe he hadn’t shown the guys my naked pics. Maybe Jonas had figured out who I was because he’s a billionaire with endless resources, and not because Mason had outright identified me.

I was even more mixed up than before.

“I don’t know what to think,” I murmured, head whirling. “It’s too confusing.”

Dr. Mableton sat back, eyes calm.

“Take your time,” she said. “There’s no reason to rush into things. Why don’t you take some time off to reflect, and then talk to him? Even if you don’t resolve the issues, at least get some clarity as to what happened that night. There are loose threads, and answers might help you make a decision.”

My body shuddered. Because on the one hand, I desperately wanted to see my lover again. But on the other, was I walking into a lion’s den, throwing myself into his jaws? Was I going to come out of this alive?

My lip trembled.

“I guess so,” came my words. “I guess I could give it a try.”

Dr. Mableton nodded.

“You don’t have to, Beth. Remember, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want. Nobody can force you to do anything, and after that assault, I understand your need for safety and security. But it’s a path worth considering. I’m not saying you have to march to Mason’s apartment today and demand answers. But just think about it.”

I nodded slowly then.

Would talking to Mr. Carlton help?

Would seeing him again, listening to his explanation one more time, give me clarity?

Why had Jonas called me Liz?

And suddenly, the need was insistent. There were details that were murky, brackish and brown, obscured by mud. But I was determined to pick them out, rinse them off, and see for myself with clear eyes. The full truth might hurt, but better to rip off the Band-Aid and get it over with. And if this didn’t work, then Mason and I were done forever.

My heart throbbed painfully for a moment.

Forever?

The thought made me go limp for a moment.

I couldn’t live without the alpha male. The billionaire was a part of me. His soul permeated my being, his name flowing through my lips with every breath.

So what was I doing?

And like a devilish whisper, the voice came again. Forever? it asked. Are you ready for that?

Because if I didn’t get answers this time, I would turn away, the door slamming shut. I’d leave Mason, forced to turn a new page even if it broke my heart. And squaring my shoulders, grief welled up from deep inside. Because future or no future … the moment for confrontation was now.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Mason

A small suitcase dropped on top of my bed with a whoof. It was all packed for Costa Rica and ready to go. My passport lay next to it along with an airline ticket and a letter to Beth.

The letter was pathetic. In it, I told her I loved her, and begged for forgiveness.

It was long, at least five pages.

I’d done at least six drafts.

But I didn’t expect her to read it.

In fact, I’d never know what happened. Because I’m leaving. After months of agony, life got to be too much. Fucking up big time isn’t my style. It’s not how I climbed to the top. The opposite in fact. I got here by doing everything right, ruthless decisions one after another.

So yeah, life has been turned upside down, and this letter was proof. It was literally ragged and tear-stained, I’d cried writing it like a heartsick adolescent boy.

Me, Mason Carlton, crying?

Pouring out my heart?

To a woman no less?

Totally unbelievable.

But it’s the truth. Beth had me wrecked, I was so fucked.

But it wasn’t her fault. It was all mine. Fuck book? That was on me. Fucking Players Club? On me. Worst mistake ever, bar none.

And she hated me now, deservedly so. The female didn’t want to see me, hadn’t so much as called or emailed in the months since our blow-up. So yeah, it’s Costa Rica for the foreseeable future. Maybe getting out of town will help clear my mind, wipe the slate clean for a little. Maybe I’ll spend the whole trip on the beach, dreaming of Beth. But that’s better than being here. This fucking apartment, with her smell everywhere. The itsy bitsy pieces of lingerie still in my drawer, reminding me of our hot play.

I’m fucked if I stay.

I have to go.

And there’s no telling when I’ll be back.

Gordon’s in charge of Carlton Corp. now. He’s the new CEO. And I couldn’t give a shit.

Because I have nothing without her.

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