Mother turned back to Coen. “Tonight is supposed to be a celebration, but your brother is right. We need to have a family discussion about how you handle this. If this were just your company, it wouldn’t matter. But half of it belongs to your brother.”
Coen looked like he wanted to strangle me.
Simone hid her disappointment, but not very well.
“But now isn’t the time for such a crude discussion.” Mother set down her utensils. “I hate to be rude, Coen, but could you and Simone excuse us for the evening? I’d like to speak to your brother alone.”
“Gladly.” Coen exited the room and took Simone with him. The butler escorted them to the door, and then they disappeared in the elevator.
When we were alone together, Mother sighed as she stared at me. “It’s been five years, Slate. I thought this would be behind you.”
“It’s not about her.” I stared straight ahead, where my brother had sat just minutes ago. There was a picture hanging on the wall, the four of us gathered at Christmas time. “Couldn’t care less about her. Coen stabbed me in the back. That’s what I care about.”
“He told me you were okay with it.”
I turned back to her, my eyes wide open in shock. “He lied. I never said that.”
“Really?” she asked, sighing in disappointment. “Oh, dear.”
“Mother, Simone only wants him for his money. She came after me first, tried to pressure me into marriage. When I wouldn’t cave, she started sleeping with him. She played me for a fool, and now she’s doing the same to Coen. How can you not see it?”
“It doesn’t matter if I can see it or not. Your brother is almost thirty. You think I have any hold over his actions?”
“No. But you have a lot of influence. I’m telling you, Simone only wants him for his cash.”
“Then why has she been with him for five years?” she asked. “That’s a long commitment.”
“Because the company kept growing. Now we’re valued at over a billion dollars. Of course she’s going to stick around for a payout like that.”
“People also change, Slate.”
“Not that cunt.”
“Slate.” Her eyes narrowed.
I wouldn’t apologize for what I said. “If he wants to marry her and give away half his wealth when she leaves him, that’s fine with me. He deserves every bad thing that happens to him. But he can’t risk the company.”
“She would only own twenty-five percent.”
“And that’s too much. She would be making twenty-five percent of our profits every single day for the rest of our lives. She could be remarried, and that money would still be going to her. And if Coen dies while they’re married, she would inherit the full fifty percent. And then I would have to deal with her…as an equal partner. So you need to get him to sign that prenup. I’ve already tried to persuade him.”
“You have valid points, Slate.”
“I know I do.” It was difficult for me to be in the same room as Coen because it was impossible to forget what he did to me. Every time I looked at his face, I remembered the day I found out about the two of them, a picture in a tabloid of the two of them going into his penthouse together. Simone didn’t owe me anything, but my brother owed me his complete loyalty. He threw away our brotherhood, our friendship, over a woman. There were millions of women in the city, and he could have any one he wanted—but he picked her. She was the only girlfriend I’d ever had—and he had to pick her.
“I’ll try to talk to him.”
“You better.” My words meant nothing to him, but my mother’s opinion still mattered.
“And you’re sure your hatred has nothing to do with Simone?”
“Does it matter?” Whether she’d hurt me or not was beside the point. It was the betrayal that seared my veins, that made me stop believing in loyalty. I lost my best friend and my brother because he was a selfish idiot. “I hope she breaks his heart. I hope she ruins him. I hope she makes him look like a fool for the entire world to see.”
My mother placed her hand on mine. “I know you think you mean that…but we both know you don’t.”
14
Monroe
The back door opened, and a man helped me to my feet. We’d arrived at the entrance to the Plaza Hotel, Central Park directly behind us. I stepped to the side so Slate had plenty of room to get out of the car.
He was in a black tuxedo, looking even more handsome than he did in a suit. He’d shaved his jawline before he picked me up, so his face was as clean as it’d ever been. There were people gathered on the sidewalk, so Slate gave them slight nods in acknowledgment. He turned to me and circled his arm around my waist.