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“How did you find out?” he asked, voice so low I wondered if the people listening in picked up on his question.
“That night you had the board over. I heard you, heard one of the other members ask you for Gracie.” I jerked out of the seat, sending the chair screeching back. It slammed against the wall as I slapped my sweaty palms to the center of the metal table. “You laughed when he asked for her in exchange for getting the FBI off your back. You fuckinglaughedabout trading our daughter for his help in getting you out of the shithole you’d dug for yourself. I tagged your emails.” His lips pursed. “I dug through your computer, all your texts and bank accounts—ones I had zero idea you even had. I found out about that apartment you paid for in Soho and the woman’s credit card you paid off every month with the fucking money you stole from my company.”
Barrett shot to his feet, nostrils flaring. “Our company,” he hissed. “I grew that thing from the ground up. All you had was some small idea that no one knew about, no one cared about. Until I took it, met with investors and banks. I made the company what it was.”
“Based on the codeI wrote,” I yelled, tossing my arms out wide. “Based onmyhard work.”
“Is Crystal what got you so worked up?” I stared at him, not understanding the shift in conversation. “If you would’ve just come to me and told me you wanted me to toss her to the curb, I would’ve. Not sure why this one was such a fucking issue that you had to turn on your husband,” he roared.
“This one,” I said, voice devoid of all emotion. “Because there were others.”
He scoffed and adjusted the sleeves of his French cuffs. “Of course, there were others.”
“We were married,” I hissed.
“And you were a pity fuck who I married because I saw our potential as business partners.”
My stomach sank. “If that was all I ever was to you, then sign the divorce papers.” He sealed his lips and jerked his gaze away. I furrowed my brows, not understanding until it hit me. “You motherfucker. You only want to stay married because you know I own the patent on the code.”
“I’ll sign the papers if you agree to give me half—”
I smacked the table. “Fuck you. No.”
“Then,wifey, I’ll make sure you go down with me.” Something sinister crossed his face. “How is Gracie, by the way? With me as her father and no divorce, you have no legal right to keep her away from—”
It happened so fast I didn’t realize I’d punched him until the pain registered along my knuckles and spread up my arm.
He grunted and worked his jaw, hand coming up to rub at the red spot.
“You fucking idiot,” he whispered. “Do you have any idea who we’re dealing with?” Something like fear flashed across his face. “They’ll kill me, kill you, and sell Gracie to the highest bidder.”
I looked at him and shook my head while rubbing my sore fingers. “Whoyou’redealing with. I have nothing to do with them, no knowledge of their operation or who’s involved. You’re just trying to scare me into giving you what you want.”
I wasn’t expecting his next move. When his arm snapped out, hand extended, I didn’t react, because Barrett may have been a lot of things, but physically violent wasn’t one of them.
Until now.
His meaty fingers wrapped around my throat, so tight I couldn’t breathe. He yanked me closer, my hips slammed to the edge of the metal table.
“If I go to jail, I’m dead,” he roared. “Fucking tell them you were in on it and all this will go away.”
Holding his stare as best I could while black dots filtered in from the corners of my eyes, I mouthed, “Fuck you.”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. With a hard pull, I was dragged on top of the table, Barrett manhandling me around like a rag doll. I scratched at his arms and hands to break his hold. The sound of pounding filled the room as my feet scrambled to gain traction on top of the table to pull myself away.
“I am not going down alone,” he hissed. “Tell them.”
My hearing was the first to go, then my vision as I slowly suffocated beneath the hand of the man I married, who fathered our daughter, and who ultimately I never really knew.
Before I could black out, I brought a foot up and slammed it against his chest, breaking his hold when he stumbled backward.
Airway free, I sucked down gulps of air, though it felt like inhaling glass shards, cutting my raw throat. Gentle hands caressed over my cheek, making me flinch back, afraid Barrett had recovered and was ready to finish what he started. Blinking up through the tears swimming in my vision, I stilled as Shade’s face became clear.
His lips moved, but I couldn’t hear anything over the blood pounding in my ears. Suddenly a high-pitched sound pierced through the quiet, bringing with it all the sounds of the room. Shade’s voice was soft, almost swallowed by shouts from somewhere behind me.
“Get him off!” someone shouted.
“You motherfucker,” a familiar male voice roared, followed by the distinct sound of a punch.
