Page 189 of The Contract

Marcus sits next to me, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He hasn’t said a word in the last five minutes—just watching me. Waiting.

He knows I’m barely keeping it together.

I know it too.

I scrub a hand down my face, feeling the sting of the split in my lip where Lucian’s fist connected last night. The bruises on my cheek and ribs throb in dull, steady pulses, but they’re nothing compared to the wreckage inside me.

I look like shit.

I feel worse.

Not because of Lucian. Not because of the fucking merger hanging in the balance.

Because of her.

Because I didn’t protect her.

Because I wasn’t there when she needed me.

Because I threw her to the fucking wolves when she was already bleeding.

I close my eyes for a second, trying to shake the image from my mind.

I glance at the clock. 8:59 a.m.

Calloway will be here any second, and I need to focus.

Adrian leaked the merger details. I just don’t know how the fuck he got them.

I can’t accuse him without proof.

I can’t lose my temper.

I need to be in control.

My lawyers filter into the room, their presence a steady reminder that this isn’t just personal—it’s business.

A business I built.

A business I refuse to let that pissant motherfucker take from me.

The door swings open, and at 9:00 a.m. on the dot, Richard Calloway walks in, his presence sucking the air from the room.

He’s flanked by his own legal team.

And by Adrian.

I don’t take my eyes off him.

Not as he strolls in like he owns the place.

Not as he pulls out his chair, settling into it with an arrogance that makes my fingers twitch with the need to wrap around his fucking throat.

Not as I catch the fresh claw marks down his cheek—courtesy of Elena.

A flicker of satisfaction coils in my gut.

But it’s not good enough.

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