Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
I swiveled to Shortbread. This was the second workday in a single month she had completely ruined for me. Though one couldn’t blame me for not being fond of Senior’s company, I needed to at least pretend to care about it.
“Feel free to enjoy any of our wonderful desserts. My apologies for your lack of company.” With that, I strode away.
She followed me, as I knew she would. I slid into the back seat of my Maybach, not sparing her a glance when she scooted in from the other side, uninvited.
“You have two options.” I lounged in the brown leather seat while Jared weaved his way out of Le Bleu’s parking lot. Dallas leaned closer, drinking every word, knowing her entire life depended on them. “Since I know how badly you want to both have children and return to your family, I shall grant you neither, instead tucking you away in my Hamptons mansion, where you will remain far enough from everything and everyone you love while stripped of your ability to inflict serious damage on my life. Or …”
I stroked my chin, giving it some thought. As a general rule, I did not reward bad behavior. But in Shortbread’s case, I often found myself making exceptions, including but not limited to the box of books I’d gifted her for attending the charity gala despite her unruly behavior during the third dinner course. (She’d tried to take an uni shot off a pop star’s tits. When I’d pried her away and lectured her on behaving in public, she shrugged me off and informed me that with great power comes great responsibility.)
And this time, the same forgiving part of me I’d never unearthed before she’d swaggered into my life wanted to give her a second chance. Or rather, a trillionth chance. I chucked it to my ruining her life. That must have been the reason I still possessed an iota of patience for the creature in front of me.
Shortbread’s eyebrows flew up, almost kissing her hairline. “Or?”
“I will give you what you want. I’ll grant you a divorce. You will return to Chapel Falls and become a living, breathing scandal. Ruined for all intents and purposes. You will probably marry a widower or a divorced man with kids. But you will have the freedom you crave so much.”
It angered me to no end that my breath recoiled in my lungs as we stared each other down, waiting to see which option she would choose. I purposefully left out anything remotely appealing for her to fall back on. Dallas needed to comprehend the graveness of the situation.
Finally—finally—she ruptured the silence. “Can I think about it on our way to the house?” Somehow, it was the worst thing she could have said. The waiting would be pure torture.
I shrugged, diverting my attention to my texts. Once Jared dropped us off, a waiting Hettie and Vernon stood on the driveway.
“Well?” Hettie said before Shortbread’s door even opened all the way. “Did you piss him off?”
Vernon ambled forward after her. “Will we finally have a little munchkin in the house?”
I entered my home first, which meant my disloyal staff—turned against me by my own wife—fell back, furious blushes glued to their cheeks, eyes pinned to the floor. “Both of you, get the hell out.”
Vernon, the gentle giant, blinked. “But where should we go?”
“Anywhere out of my eyesight if you want to keep your jobs,” I advised, ridding myself of my coat and advancing to the stairs. I did not spare Shortbread a look. “You have another thirty minutes to consider your answer while I make some calls. I’ll come to your room when I’m ready.”
Through the tall glass window sprawled along my stairway, I witnessed Shortbread collapsing on the bottom stair in her beautiful dress, her head tucked between her arms, her hair cascading all the way down her back.
She wasn’t going to get a baby.
She wasn’t going to get a divorce, either.
All she would get was a reality check.
As for me? I always, always got what I wanted.
Chapter Forty-Four
Romeo
Forty-five minutes after I left her to sob on the stairs, I skulked to Shortbread’s room. It did not surprise me to find it empty. The silly rose she kept in the Q-tip jar had shed petals all over the place. That the cleaners hadn’t wiped the nightstand surface beneath it must have been my unkempt wife’s doing. It was not lost on me that she had fused herself into my home so thoroughly, it would become an entirely different place should she choose to leave.
I stalked the hallways in search of Dallas. Rain pelted the roof, knocking on the windows. The temperature had plummeted since our return from Paris. The cold never bothered me—I was used to it inside and out. But it occurred to me that my wife might not be enchanted with the bitter frost that arrived once fall drifted away, making room for winter.