Page 84 of Owned

I could run after him, confront him, hit him in the face with his own weaknesses, but that wasn’t something that would change him. He was a man who made his own choices, and I couldn’t force him to love me and I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t manipulate him like his father had, or emotionally blackmail him, and I certainly wouldn’t use the baby to do the same. He wouldn’t abandon me, I knew that, though in way it would be easier if he did. At least if I never saw him again, it would be a clean break.

At that moment, the curtain opened again, and a woman came in. She had wild and curly red hair and green eyes and I knew immediately that she was a Hamilton of some sort.

I swallowed my sobs, viciously wiping away the evidence of my tears. That was it. No more weeping. There was nothing more pathetic than crying over a lost cause.

The woman walked over to the dais where I stood and gave me a good look up and down. “Hey, cousin,” she said, frowning critically at my wet cheeks. “You enjoyed your sex show that much huh?”

I blinked, my heart tightening. “Isabel?”

“Yeah.” She came closer. “I think we need to have a chat.”

32

Atlas

I went up to Cal’s private room and went in, only to find him and Ten already chatting and sipping scotch. They both looked up. Ten raised his glass to me. “Fine performance. Zara liked it very much. I think I might bring her one night for a similar scene.”

“Great,” I said without interest. “Glad to help.”

Cal surveyed me critically. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” I strode over to the tray where the scotch sat, grabbed a tumbler and poured myself a triple, because why the fuck not?

“Sure,” Cal said dryly. “Did Rowan not have a good time?”

“She had a great time.” Clutching my tumbler, I dropped into the armchair opposite Ten.

“And you?” Ten asked.

I said nothing, sipped at my drink, then knocked the whole thing back. “Yeah, great.”

“Bullshit.” Ten’s blue eyes were piercing. “It’s Rowan, isn’t it?”

I didn’t want to talk about it, because I was barely holding myself the fuck together. “What about you, Cal? You up for public sex?”

Cal snorted. “I’ve seen that look before,” he said, ignoring me. “On Ten’s face when he left Zara. You’re in love with her, aren’t?”

“No,” I said, because if this roaring, possessive need inside me was love then I wanted it nothing to do with it.

“The hell you aren’t,” Ten said, staring at me. “Only love puts that kind of expression on a man’s face.”

“Fuck off.” I shoved myself out of the chair and went over to the tray where the scotch sat once again, pouring myself another generous triple.

“Don’t tell me,” Cal said. “You think you’re not good enough for her. You think you’re just like your father.”

I gritted my teeth. “Well, aren’t I?”

“Is your woman dead?” Cal asked with brutal frankness. “Is she broken? Is she weeping in a corner?”

“No.” I turned around, thinking of Rowan standing before me, so beautiful and powerful, the opposite of broken. “I think I’m the one who’s broken.” The words came out before I could stop them.

Both of them were staring at me as if I was insane. “What?” I demanded.

“Of course you’re broken,” Ten said as if explaining to a child. “We all are. But who do you think is holding us together? Who do you think is healing us?”

“Isabel,” Cal said. “And Zara.”

I shook my head in denial. “No, I’m not putting that on Rowan. She’s already had to deal with Cait for the past eight years. She needs a good man to take care of her, not vice versa.”

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