Page 59 of Almost Paradise

She looks at Carter one more time. She doesn’t give me an answer, but she walks outside of the room, and I follow her. She goes into the guest room that she tried to claim last night. She leaves the door cracked open, leans against the wall, and crosses her arms. I hate this. I hate this wall of resistance that she’s put up. This was never our energy. After that afternoon when I took her home, everything between us was always so easy.

Tell her everything.

I open my mouth to do just that, but when I look into her eyes again, they seem hollow and distant, not warm and full of mischief like before.

“Actually, can you follow me, please?” I don’t wait for her to respond. I walk out of the room, and I expel a breath of relief when she follows me downstairs and toward the back of the house. I open the door and gesture for her to go inside. “I had this set up for you as a home office. I hope you like it, but if you don’t, you can furnish and decorate it any way you like. It’s right next to my home office.” She doesn’t so much as crack a smile, but she does look around the room. There’s an oak desk that is similar to mine, and I got her a lime green chair because she loves bright colors. I even put a framed photo of Carter on her desk.

“Thank you,” she says, clearing her throat, “but this isn’t necessary. I prefer to work from my home.”

“This is your home,” I insist.

“Under duress. Like a prison,” she whispers. I don’t think I was meant to hear it, but I do.

“This isn’t a prison, Nia,” I say louder than I intend. I take a deep breath and decide not to take the bait. “Anyway, these are for you.” I open the drawer in the desk and hand her a small box. She eyes it and slowly reaches for it. She puts it on the desk, opens it, and takes out a small envelope. Her eyebrows shoot to her forehead when she sees the American Express with her name on it. She puts it down and holds up the checkbook that has both our names.

“I don’t understand,” is all she says.

“Well, if you want to decorate this house or need to buy anything for yourself and Carter, you can—”

“I can take care of myself, but I will use these for Carter,” she says. “As for the house, it’s yours, not mine. It’s not my place to change anything.”

I do everything I can to rein in my temper. I remind myself that she’s only here because I blackmailed her. She’s angry, and she has every right to be. I also remember that for four years, she thought I had turned my back on her when she became pregnant with my baby.

I didn’t think it would go like this, though. Especially after the comment she made about taking half my billions once she divorces me. I thought she’d be ready to spend as much money as possible. Scarlett did from the moment she agreed to be my wife. Hell, she did it before then too.

“I thought you’d be happy so you could start putting me into the poorhouse,” I remind her.

“I know I can never do that. I still plan on taking half, though, only because I know despite whatever you say, it will piss you off.” She drops the checkbook on the desk and starts to walk out. I grab her elbow. She doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t turn around to face me.

“What can I do to get in your good graces, Nia? I hate this, and if I’m being honest, I’m not used to it. We never fought,” I remind her.

She finally pulls her elbow out of my hand and turns to face me. “That’s not true,” she says with a soft voice. Much too soft. “What about that day Scarlett visited the office, and she had her hands all over you? They were more like tentacles. We fought then. Remember what you said?” I know exactly what she’s getting at, but I remain quiet and wait for her to speak. “You reassured me that she was only a friend. You promised you weren’t interested in her, and that there would never be anything other than friendship between you. Then just a little while later, you slip a ring on her finger. I guess that was just another one of your lies.”

She looks up at me, arms crossed, while she waits. I put my hands on my hips, then I look down at her. “It was more than two years after us. I thought—”

She interrupts me before I can say anymore. “Did you get hard for her, Drake? Did you fuck her?” I feel my face flush and look away. “Did you come inside of her? Did she ever get on her knees and blow you? Did she wrap her lips around your dick? Did you go crazy when she did? You could never say no to a blow job. Did you—”

“Enough,” I say, choking on the word almost as if it hurts. “Please stop.”

“I have a question for you. What was it like going from bad to basic?” She arches an eyebrow. “I mean, you really went slumming. I would think a guy like you would have better options, but—"

“I thought you didn’t want me. I thought—”

“Oh my God. Is anything ever your fault? You’re not seriously going to tell me that you were with Scarlett because of me. What about you? Is anything ever a result of your choices? It’s not, is it? I guess that’s how the Paradise Heir was raised. Is there anything else?” she asks, her voice annoyed and dismissive.

“Do we have to fight about every little thing?”

“Little?” she says with a chuckle. “Who’s fighting?” she asks, feigning innocence. She opens her eyes wide and raises both hands. “I’m playing catch up. It’s been over four years, after all. But if you think this is fighting, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

When she stares into my eyes, I look away, not taking the bait. The last thing I want to do is talk about Scarlett or my time with her. “I want to introduce Carter to my family on Saturday. I’ve already arranged it. Feel free to be mad about that too. Add it to your growing list.” I walk out of the office and slam the door behind me.

I don’t make it two steps before I hear her. “No,” is all she says.

“No, what?” I slowly turn and close the distance between us in one step.

“I don’t want him to meet your family.”

“Why the hell not?”

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