Page 41 of Salvaged Hearts

We’d made it through week one of this charade virtually unscathed, save for a lecture from the head of HR, an ungodly amount of paperwork, and out-of-pocket comments from basement-dwelling internet trolls.

Still no whisper of the allegations that pigeonholed us in the first place.

Perhaps ignoring Reggie’s calls all week wasn’t my brightest choice, but the man hadjusttouched down in Paris the day after the board meeting. We should have been free of him for a few weeks yet.

Door slamming behind him, Reggie tore into the room like the devil himself. It took every ounce of my control not to audibly sigh as I flicked my eyes up to his very dignified stomp through the bathroom of “the groom’s suite” in the venue.

He looked like a petulant toddler with raging cholesterol and a high likelihood of an aneurysm based on the pulsing vein in his forehead.

“Evening, Reggie,” I drawled, arching a brow as his face flushed a promising shade of tomato.

“Don’tevening me,” he growled, snatching my cell from where I’d discarded it on the counter. He swiped up the screen before feigning shock. “Oh, so it does work, and you just didn’t deign to answer.”

“It’s been a busy week.” My even tone somehow elicited another shade of crimson in his face. That’s the thing about maneuvering egotistical pricks regularly: the sooner you can regulate your emotions, the sooner you own every hothead in your proximity. My Uncle included. For fun, I reached for my other cuff link without shifting a muscle in my face.

“I’ll say,” he spluttered. “Such an absolute disgrace. This isnotwhat I meant in that office last week.”

“If you came to my engagement party to protest, I do believe the minister will request objections at the ceremony. For now, I’m a bit preoccupied fastening this.”

“You little shit.”

“Care to help?” Glancing up to him in the mirror and seeing that seething scowl, I arched my brows and added, “No?” I shrugged, refocusing on my sleeve while maintaining a careful mask of calm.

Reginald and Carlisle Hart were birds of a feather. Mean when drunk—which was often—and convinced they were god’s gift to business. My father and his brother were likely two of the bastards who coined the term ‘shark.’ How either of them secured the cherubs they called wives, I couldn’t comprehend for the life of me.

My indifference obvious, he opted for a new tactic, leaning onto the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “You’vebetrayed everything your father and I worked for. That yourgrandfatherworked for.”

“The company is currently sailing at record profit. Employee retention is at an all-time high. Stock is selling for double what it was before Dad died. If you’re making a point, you’re doing it poorly.” Finishing the second cuff, I straightened my spine, adjusting my collar in the mirror as he sputtered in fury.

“I said Royal wedding.Royal, Greyson.Not rabble.What were you thinking?”

The first drip of cortisol took a swan dive off a very tall cliff into my bloodstream. Keeping my breathing steady, I raised my eyes to glare in his direction. “Lower your voice.”

“We raised you better than this. Ollie demonstrated just how easy it is for some whore to open her legs and destroy your foundation, but you’re just going to run off and do the same thing?”

“Lower. Your. Voice.” Mine had dropped into some kind of growl. Likening Alessandra to Carly was a vile overstep. One had brains, drive, integrity, and class, and one was a bottom feeder with impressive synthetic tits.

“You might’ve gotten too big for your britches the last few years, but don’t you forget how quickly you could throw this all away to get your dick wet.”

Pinning him with a glare, I bit back, “If you can’t control your mouth, I am not beyond having security escort you out. Personally, I think the board has enough on their plates this week, don’t you?”

“Head of PR,” he scoffed. “You decide to mock that title before or after you had her on her knees for you?”

Anger has always been the easy solution. The effortless solution. A weak man can mask their anger as strength, using brute force to intimidate their way through life. A weaker manwould have grabbed him by his fat throat and put him in his place.

Power is found in control.Strengthexists in the chasm between animal instinct and self-discipline.

And so, I breathed.

No matter how much I wanted to silence him.

I would not throat-punch my uncle…even if he deserved it. “I will not have you ruin this for my bride, but before you spew more vile words, do consider that your great niece is likely stashed inside a cubby somewhere, hearing every single thing that you say.”

His lip curled. He loved Mattie, but even that might be a stretch in my attempt to bring him to heel. “Start talking.”

“Not much in the mood for conversation. The ballroom will be full of willing participants shortly, however.”

“Is this a game to you?” he demanded, clearly infuriated by my lack of outburst.

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