Page 28 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two
Record scratch.
“Axel…” I grind out, but he jumps into his argument.
“Listen, Storm,” he starts, his tone serious. “I don’t agree with Riale’s stance. I think youshouldtalk with Shae. Not only because I think it’s long overdue, at least for you to have some sort of closure, but because she’s already tied up in this shit. And if something were to happen to her, I know that’d send you off the deep end. Probably forever.”
I stare at the wall art above the bed, not seeing anything beyond the whirling patterns on the canvas. The thought of my worst nightmare coming true, Shae being hurt by my bullshit, makes me want to vomit and break things at the same time.
Ma would know what to do.
“All right. Thanks for scheduling it,” I say, sorting through approaches. “I’ll talk to her and convince her to drop the Keystone deal.”
The Shae I know has always been reasonable. I’m sure I can get her to be smart about this.
“All right,” Axel says, and he sounds strangely relieved. “Good luck. I’ll send you the details.”
He hangs up before I can say anything more.
I should walk away. Maybe go to the kitchen, brew coffee on that expensive, complicated machine, run on the treadmill in the smaller gym across the condo.
But instead, I lean back into the eyepiece just in time to see her exit her bedroom in a fire engine red athleisure outfit—a sports bra top with a square neck and calf-length pants that are so tight I can see the cleft of her ass.
Fuck.
Watching her, tracking her, tricking her into a meeting with me? That all makes sense.
Coming on my stomach while spying on her doing yoga? I don’t know about that.
Shae stretches for a few minutes, making my mouth dry as she spreads her legs wide in front of the stationary bike and bends down to stretch against one calf and then the other. Just when I think I’m going to violate my self-imposed no-fap rule, she straightens and slings her leg over the Peloton.
She’s so strong, and not just physically. Before Riale stopped giving me updates on her, I tracked her major milestones and celebrated her wins alongside her.
Shae crushed it on her way to the top, and now she’s one of the most well-respected venture capitalists in the business. She did that.
She did all that without me.
Shae starts to cycle after picking out a session on the broad screen attached to the machine, and I let the frantic pumping lull me into a trance state—a space where I can count my breaths and feel my heartbeat slow.
In the madness surrounding me, this moment feels like…peace.
Shae spins the red knob near her knees and begins to stand and lower herself on the pedals. I sling the scope to the screen, feeling an irrational growl bubble up my chest when I see she stares at a nigga on the screen who looks like…me.
Tight Caesar cut, medium-brown skin, and too-straight teeth that he flashes into the camera as if he’s trying to seduce every woman watching.
Up, down, up, down, Shae’s body goes, and I think she has to be close to the end of the exercise….
…when on her downstroke, she slides forward and backward on the seat.
I stand up straight, blinking past the telescope and into her apartment with my naked eye.
Did she just…?
I go back to the viewfinder in time to see her….
…fuck, there goes my dick turning to steel.
Shae rides her bikeandher bike seat, rocking back and forth and tilting her face to the ceiling as she goes faster and faster.
I stare with my fucking mouth open like I’m going on Pornhub for the first time. My heart rate, still slow and steady, thuds in my chest, the blood rushing past my ears so hard I go lightheaded.
