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“You think the second time will be any different from the first? I wasn’t safe enough for you, but this asshole is?”
It took time for me to gather my bearings, to stifle the scream in my heart. “You have a lot of nerve, Bartholomew.”
He stepped closer to me, his dark eyebrows furrowed. “Ihave a lot of nerve?”
“You dumped me, remember? What do you care?”
“No,youdumped me,” he snapped. “Let’s not rewrite history. You only wanted me back when you realized you’d made the wrong choice. Don’t paint me as the asshole. I don’t settle for less than what I deserve—big difference. You, on the other hand, are selling yourself short if you think that man can make you happy. If you think he can make you come the way I do.” He didn’t yell, but he didn’t speak calmly either. With every word, he suppressed his rage. The slight tremors in his body told me just how angry he was.
“Bartholomew, why are you here?”
His eyes narrowed.
“You don’t want me, so why the fuck are you here?” Now I yelled. “I begged you for another chance. Apologized for my screwup I don’t know how many times. The answer was no. Over and over. So why do you care if I want to marry Victor?”
He said nothing, but his eyes continued to burn with his fury. Every time I spoke, he seemed to get angrier, like every word out of my mouth was gasoline and his rage was the match.
“I may have broken things off between us, but you’re the one who ended it for good.”
“Not because I wanted to—”
“But you did—”
“Because I was angry. Angry that I’d sacrificed the world for a woman who wouldn’t do the same for me. You hurt me—and I don’t say those words lightly. I don’t admit that kind of shit to anyone.” He slammed his fist into his chest like a caveman. “But you fucking broke me.”
Nothing he’d said hurt me as much as that. “You broke me too, Bartholomew.”
“I never betrayed you—”
“But you broke me when you walked away.”
“Really? Because it seems like you’re doing just fine.” He glanced down to the ring on my left hand, a ring I’d worn for two years. When he looked at me again, he was vicious once more.
I yanked it off my finger and set it on the dining table. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Victor and I are working together to bring down my father. It’s just part of the plan.”
His reaction remained stiff, like it took him longer than usual to understand the implications.
“We aren’t seeing each other. We’re just…friends, I guess.”
It took a while for the anger to release its grip on his features. Slowly, the tremors stopped, the cords stopped popping out of his neck with the same prominence. He sheathed his rage, but a wisp of temper was still in his eyes.
“You can go now.”
He second-guessed my words with his eyes.
“You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me.”
His arms hung at his sides, the prominent veins like rivers down his skin. He took a step closer to me as those brown eyes absorbed my soul. “I’ve always wanted you, sweetheart. That’s never been the issue.”
My breathing deepened, and I tried to cover it by crossing my arms over my chest.
He came closer to me. We were running out of space. Now he was so close I could smell him. Smell the sheets against my face first thing in the morning. Smell the smoke from his cigars, the vapors from his scotch. It sent a shiver down my spine.
He dipped his head, and I knew that kiss would bring me to my knees.
