Page 36 of Double Standards
“Axel!” I call after him as he strides across the foyer.
He turns, pointing a finger at me, fury burning in his eyes. “You’re fucking fired!”
“Ax—”
“Fucking. Fired,” he barks, his voice echoing in the open space.
“Fine!” I throw my hands up. “Find someone else to deal with your shit!”
He flips me off so hard even the security guard flinches. Then he’s gone.
I should feel relieved. But all I feel is guilt. Shame. That look he gave me—full of hurt, so vulnerable and,real—it gutted me.
And just like that, we’re done.
Chapter Twelve
“So, what exactly did she say?” Trigger folds his arms and leans against the doorway to my study. He stares at me like I’ve just told him unicorns are real and living in Central Park.
I sink lower in my chair, scrubbing a hand over my face. The weight of my own stupidity presses down on me like concrete, dragging me beneath a tide of regret I can't shake. “She didn’t really get the chance to say much,” I mutter.
He arches a brow. “Meaning?”
“I didn’t let her explain,” I admit, my voice low with regret. The words taste like rust. “She said it wasn’t what it looked like, and I just—” I shrug, helpless. Like a goddamn teenager instead of a grown man who’s seen and done more than most people could stomach. And yet somehow,this—this woman, this moment—has me completely unraveled.
Trigger pushes off the doorframe and steps into the room like it’s an interrogation. He drops into the armchair across from my desk, arms still crossed like he’s trying real hard not to laugh in my face. “And you don’t believe her?”
“I don’t know what to believe,” I admit, quieter this time. “Seeing Daniels in her office… that smug bastard practically dripping sleaze… and then the money in her hand. It felt like betrayal. Like she’d just slapped me across the face.”
The irony isn’t lost on me. I still remember the ghost of her palm on my cheek from last night—hot and sharp, fueled by fury, and something deeper. Raw, righteous anger.
I deserved it.
She struck me, and I let her. There was no point in blocking it or retaliating. I stood there like a goddamn statue while her fingers left a mark hotter than any bullet ever has. Because it wasn’t about pain—it was about what it meant. That I’d pushed too far.
And maybe that’s why seeing Daniels in her office today bothered me so much. It wasn’t just the implication that she was working with him—it was the idea that maybe she’d walked away fromme.
I reach for my jaw, but the burn I feel isn’t physical anymore. It’s deeper. In the marrow. In the part of me I never thought existed.
“I don’t even know what the hell I was doing walking in there like that,” I mutter, more to myself than to Trigger. “I just saw red. Thought she’d betrayed me before I even gave her the chance to explain.”
Trigger doesn’t say anything right away, and I’m grateful. Because for a second, I need the silence to get my shit together. I’ve handled killers, torturers, men who flay their victims for fun—and none of them ever got to me like this woman can with a look, a word, a slap.
And the worst part?
It’s not because I’m angry.
It’s because I care.
Trigger’s quiet for a beat. Then he asks the question I know he’s been dying to ask. “Did she take it?”
“I don’t think so,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t stick around long enough to find out. I was too pissed. Too—”Hurt, I almost say, but I swallow it back.
“Neither do I,” Trigger says casually, like it’s not even a question in his mind. “Truthfully, I don’t think she’s the kind of person to be bought. Especially not by that prick.”
I lean back and stare at the ceiling. The fluorescent lights hum overhead—same as the ones in that damn elevator earlier this morning, when I cornered her like an animal and lashed out like a kid throwing a tantrum.Again.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Now that you say it, she looked angry. And that was before I barged in.”
