Page 180 of The Contract

But I am.

The way she looked at me before she left. The haunted look in her eyes. The sting of her slap.

Liar. Traitor. Whore.

I grit my teeth, my jaw tightening as I tip the glass back again, letting the alcohol drown out the fucking mess in my head. I should be thinking about the merger, about my next move.

But all I can think about is her.

The way she felt under my hands.

The way she tasted.

The way she looked at me like I was the only man who could touch her. Like she trusted me. Wanted me.

God, it felt so fucking real.

And now she’s gone.

A muscle ticks in my jaw as I grip the edge of the counter, my knuckles going white. She played me. I should have known better. This is exactly why I don’t do relationships.

Why the list of people I trust has about three names on it.

For the second time today, the penthouse doors explode open, slamming against the walls hard enough to rattle the fucking chandelier.

The hit comes fast and brutal.

Lucian’s fist connects, snapping my head to the side—the sharp crack of bone against bone ringing in my ears.

I barely feel it. Because I want this fight.

I want somewhere to put the fucking pain.

I slam into him, grappling, my fist driving into his ribs. Lucian grunts, but he doesn’t slow down. He catches my collar, twisting as he shoves me back.

My spine hits the wall with a thud, drywall cracking beneath the force.

Lucian’s hand fists my shirt, his eyes dark. Livid.

"What the fuck did you do to my employee?" he snarls, his voice low and deadly.

I snarl right back.

"Your employee?" I shove against him, dislodging his grip, throwing him back just enough to swing again. My fist catches his jaw, but he barely flinches.

“She’s a fucking liar. A traitor. A gold-digging slut who played us all.”

Lucian’s fist collides with my ribs, stealing my breath.

“Watch your fucking mouth about her.”

He swings again.

I meet him halfway.

Fists fly.

Glass shatters.

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