I place the contract on the arm of the chair she’s sitting in. “This is for you.”
She glances down at it for a split second and then back at the window. “From now on, all business matters will go through our lawyers,” she says.
I sigh and then decide to say what I should have said the minute she confronted me. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the second I realized we could be more than enemies. I’m sorry that The Whitney brought us together, but it’s The Whitney that’s destroying us as well. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry that I lied. I’m sorry for so much of what I did. But there is one thing I won’t ever apologize for and that’s for loving you. Because, Katja, that is one thing in all of this that is the truth. I do love you. I think I’ve always loved you. And for that…” I pick up the contract and tear it into pieces. Katja looks up and watches me do it but doesn’t say a word. “I’m not going to make you sign this contract. I won’t force you to work with someone like me. I won’t make you sign a deal with the devil.”
I turn and walk toward the door of the penthouse with no intention of ever returning.
Opening the door, I pause before I leave and say, “The Whitney is yours. Your debt is cleared.”
Chapter Twenty-two
KATJA
My debt is cleared.
The only problem is… the price had been too high.
The sun has shifted lower in the sky, bathing me with warmness in direct conflict with the chilling numbness I feel deep in my bones.
It’s six-thirty. My heart lurches, realizing Dex and I should be sitting down to eat dinner for our big date night tonight. Dinner and a show. Romance and hot sex.
But it was all a lie. Every damn minute of it.
My gaze falls to the pile of torn papers still lying on the floor next to me, right where Dex dropped them before he walked out.
The Whitney is safe—and she’s all mine again. I should feel relieved, but I don’t and that might be what pisses me off the most.
I’ve been such a fool, making mistake after mistake. From the minute my father died, I’d done nothing right.
I’ve spent hours today sitting in this damn chair, reliving every fucking one of those mistakes again and again. As each hour has passed, the fury I directed at Dex earlier has boomeranged back on me.
Looking back, I know it was a mistake to kick him out of The Whitney, more than just because of the things we discussed on the roof. It hardened him, turned him into a true enemy. I know I was naïve, I panicked because he scared me back then—I can admit that much. The invisible pull of the magnet between us was already affecting my confidence around him. I knew I wasn’t strong enough to keep him in check where The Whitney was concerned, and to some degree, I had been right to be afraid. But maybe if I’d negotiated with him then… laid down rules we could both have lived with, maybe we could have… what?
I still don’t have an answer to that. I’m not even sure we could have come to an agreement back then, which is why I rushed into mistake number two… Tristan Miller. I actually felt guilty early in our marriage knowing that not only did I never love him, but I attached myself to Tristan for his social and financial stability. I bet he got a good laugh lying in bed with his many mistresses, knowing it was my money funding his playboy lifestyle all along.
But those mistakes pale in comparison to me naively allowing Dex back into my life the night Tristan died. He swooped in like he owned the place and in the shock of it all, I let him. It must have been like child’s play for him after that. He had access to me… the staff… He plotted and planned and then all he had to do was execute.
I fell for it hook, line, and sinker.
Had Tristan even borrowed money from him in the first place or was it all part of the big lie? How much of my late husband’s financial ruin was his own doing and how much had been Dex pulling the strings all along?
Just thinking about it has the pressure in my chest so heavy, it makes it hard for me to catch my breath. After finishing an entire bottle of wine, I let the empty wine glass slip from my fingers, falling to the carpet next to my chair. The final drops of red wine splattering across the cream carpet are the perfect metaphor for my heart bleeding out from the pain of Dex’s betrayal.
And my damn bleeding heart was my biggest mistake of all. Like an idiot, I let myself trust him. I let down my guard…
I fell in love.
The realization pierces my heart.
He said those words to me earlier, but I’m not stupid enough to believe for one minute that he meant them. He’s done nothing but lie to me for years and that’s all today was… more lies. He just said what he thought he needed to in order to keep manipulating me. He’s a master at playing the long game, he’s proven that perfectly. His profession of love and then tearing up the contract is all part of that same game.
Well, I’ve fallen for his lies for the last time.
I stumble to my feet. I’ve been sitting in the same chair for hours, wallowing. The problem is I honestly have no clue what I’m supposed to do now. The rug was figuratively pulled out from under me and now I feel like I’m free falling, and yet everything I want to grab onto for support is gone. My father… Tristan… Dex…
Tears cloud my vision, but I swish them away. I am not going to cry. I refuse to fall apart. That’s what he wants—me to fall to pieces so he can come in and rescue me again.
Well fuck that, and fuck Dex Cohen.