Page 181 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
I make my way onto the couch, and Calypso curls against me.
The world keeps turning, but I’m stuck, caught between the men I love and the truth I can’t escape, wondering if I’ll ever find my way back to myself—or if I even want to.
CHAPTER FORTY
Dorian
I’ve had enough of this bullshit. Had enough of my own self-inflicted misery.
It’s time to atone for the numerous wrongs I’ve committed. Well, only the ones I regret. And in this case, there are many.
And if I fail…
The idea is enough to bring me to my knees.
I can’t fail.
I can’t fucking lose everything and everyone who truly matters to me.
I thought losing Lena and Brennan doing time would crush me. But I had no idea that him walking out, of hurting Isla so completely that she ran from me, would incinerate every last piece of my soul.
With more confidence than I’m actually feeling, I stride toward the security room of Vale Imports.
I get a few looks, but no one tries to stop me.
Of course they don’t. My name is on their fucking paychecks. And they’d better not forget it.
I stop in front of the biometric scanner. As it processes, taking too damn long, I wonder if Brennan has revoked my access, even though I own the company.
Surely he wouldn’t.
But would I blame him if he had?
A fraction of a second later, I receive a green light.
Exhaling from relief, then squaring my shoulders to face my demons, I open the door.
A wall of monitors greets me, their flickering feeds painting the cramped, windowless room in shades of blue and gray, each screen a silent witness to every corner of Vale Imports—loading docks, hallways, the front gate. A red light pulses on a control panel, signaling my entry, its faint beep swallowed by the low hum of cooling fans keeping the equipment from overheating.
The monitors flicker with feeds from every corner of the building and its exterior, and I know they’ve seen me coming—Lasker’s team doesn’t miss a beat, or they’d be out of a job. They knew I was coming, all right.Good.I’m not here to play games.
Lasker, head of security, looks up from his console, his face tight. Brennan’s there, too, leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, his broad frame a fortress of tension. His dark hair is mussed, his jaw shadowed with stubble. His eyes are dark and threatening, and he’s totally focused on me.
Today he’s in a black T-shirt and jeans, not the tailored suits we used to wear like armor. His stance shows he’s ready to do battle. With me. Not for me.
“Lasker,” I say, my voice rough, like I’ve swallowed gravel. “Give us the room.”
The man hesitates, glancing at Brennan for direction.
At Brennan’s tight nod, Lasker grabs his tablet and slipspast me, the door clicking shut behind him with a sound of finality.
The room seems smaller now, claustrophobic, the air heavy with the faint metallic tang of electronics and the weight of everything we haven’t said since he walked out, since Isla ran, since I destroyed everything we shared.
Brennan shifts, his boots scraping the floor, and he moves toward the door, ready to show me out, his shoulders squared like he’s bracing for a fight. “I’ve got work to do, Vale.”
“Two minutes. Please,” The word rips out of me, raw, desperate, not the command I’d usually wield but a plea that burns my throat. He freezes, one hand on the door handle, and I see the flicker of his jaw, the way his fingers flex, like he’s fighting himself to turn back.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t look at me, but he doesn’t kick me out either. His silence is a highwire that I’m not sure how to navigate.
