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“Ana, my love, I don’t think Trey wants to be bothered by our family’s journey …” He offers a nervous chuckle.
“No, no,” I say, piecing together their story.
A baby girl born eight years ago to a waitress still in high school …
The instant sickness in the car on the ride there the second I mentioned his name …
Sophie and Nolan talking by the pool Saturday morning …
The way she played with the kids at the beach, never leaving their side once and paying special attention to the little girl …
The hint of barely-there tears in her eyes when she said goodbye to Sasha …
Her sudden and abrupt change of heart after that weekend …
She refused to tell me the name of the man who got her pregnant all those years go, but she once mentioned he was an “older” and “prominent” businessman.
Son of a bitch. The asshole strong-armed her out of marrying me.
I thought his change of heart was peculiar … but he backed his decision up with a myriad of reasons, all of which made sense.
I take a swig of my Scotch, gripping the tumbler so hard it might break.
As soon as this takeover is final, I’m dismantling his fucking business piece by piece. Selling it for pennies on the dollar if I have to, giving every last dollar to Sophie.
God knows she’s earned it after dealing with him.
“Anyway.” Anabelle sips her champagne. “It’s so nice to be back in the Windy City. We lived here temporarily before we got Sasha. I was teaching for the pediatrics program at Northwestern. Nolan would leave every weekend for business, but we made it work. And once we welcomed our daughter, we moved east permanently to be closer to our families.”
Nolan checks his watch. “I hate to cut this meeting short, Trey, but we’ve got an appointment with our personal jeweler at Cartier in an hour and this city traffic is brutal.”
“We can reschedule, can’t we?” Anabelle asks. “I’m sure Monique will understand.”
“I’d rather not.” Nolan forces a tight smile, dabbing his lips with his white linen napkin before rising. His mind is made up.
His wife offers an apologetic smile.
“This isn’t easy for him,” she tells me. “But good luck with everything. We know the company will be in capable hands.”
I rise, extending my hand to Nolan. He gives it a tight squeeze before offering one to Broderick, hardly making eye contact.
Underneath the pomp and circumstance and the annoyingly rigid negotiation tactics, he’s nothing but a goddamned coward.
Whatever he’s holding over Sophie’s head, I’m going to rip it limb from limb.
And then I’ll do the same to him.
I may be paying him for his company, but in the end, he’s the one who’ll pay—dearly—for the heartless cruelty he inflicted upon the only woman I’ve ever loved.
Fifty-Two
Sophie
Present
“What really happened, Sophie?” My mom is waiting for me when I get back from lunch with my friends. When I told them I’d broken off the engagement, they called an emergency get-together at our favorite bar for drinks and small plates, not that I could stomach anything. And they collectively agreed that they were secretly relieved.
“It’s not like you to jump into a relationship and then when you said you were getting married …” Sara said.
“Obviously you were going through something,” Carina added. “We’re just glad that whatever it is, you’re over it.”
They bought me drinks that melted before I could finish them and I offered excuse after excuse about getting caught up in the excitement of the wealthiest man in the world pining for me.
In the end, they told me it was for the best.
And I said that I agreed, even if I didn’t, even if the words cut through me like a rusted, dull switchblade.
I collapse in the corduroy chair in my mother’s living room. I’ve been staying here for the past week. A temporary escape. I’ve also been avoiding work because I know Trey will be there, ready to call me into his office in an attempt to sell me on getting back together. He’ll paint a beautiful picture, as always, and feed me the most convincing words in the universe. And I’ll want to give in.
Oh, God, will I want to give in …
But I can’t.
“You’ve always told me everything,” Mom says, sitting on the sofa. And she’s right. But she’s been there since day one, plus she was there when Nolan’s attorney handed me the NDA the day after the baby was born. There’s nothing she doesn’t know. Besides, if she knew the truth, it’s not like she’d go running to Trey to tell him. “What is it? What happened?”
“Trey’s been trying to land this business deal for the past year,” I say, opting to hand-select details. “Long story short, the man selling it wanted to spend a weekend with us. But it turns out, that man … was Nolan Ames.”
