“For what? And anyway, I don’t care.” Whitney shrugs. “I’ve got nothing to lose, so sue me. I. Don’t. Care.”
Shaking her head, she laughs up at me. “You really thought you’d get away with it? You”—she points her finger at me—“do not get to cheat on me with that little cunt. I want her gone. Away from you, away from my child.” She pauses and takes a deep breath before smiling first at me and then Aaron and then Diksha. Her eyes finally settle back on me.
“I get what I want, Max, starting with her gone. Otherwise, these will be uploaded to every single social media site in existence.”
Whitney's narrowed, cat-like stare slides around the room, landing on each person in turn. “If you all wouldn't mind, I'd like a few moments alone with my husband.”
“Ms Federov, I really don't think—”
Whitney pierces Waters with a glare, instantly shutting down his protests.
“Max?” Aaron questions from somewhere behind me.
“I'm good. You can go.”
The room finally falls silent, and I hear the click of the door closing. Picking up my chair, I sit back down on the opposite side of the table to Whitney. Lacing my fingers together, I rest my hands in front of me and stare at them. I remain silent, hearing only the loud thud of my own heartbeat in my ears. In an attempt to calm my temper as well as my racing thoughts, I take a few deep breaths, releasing them slowly before finally looking up at Whitney.
“Here's the thing, Max, you don't meet my terms, then Iwillfight you for custody of Layla.”
“Why? You've already admitted you don't want her living with you. I'll give you access, just let me have—”
“No. This isn't a negotiation. This isme, tellingyou, how it's gonna be. I want everything I stated earlier, but first and foremost I want the redhead gone.”
“But why? Why the fuck? What has Billie ever done to you?”
“Nothing. It's what she does to you.”
“She makes me happy,” I snap.
“And there we have it.”
I can't remain seated and hold on to my temper, so I stand and walk to the end of the room. Positioning myself behind Waters desk, I face Whitney, who looks relaxed as she sits at the negotiating table.
“Why amInot allowed to be happy, Whit? You made your choices, you left me for Gardener, you did what made you happy, why can't I do the same?” I place my palms flat on the desk and lean into them. Her head turns towards me, a vicious sneer on her face.
“I've seen the way you look ather, the way you watch her.” She gestures with her chin towards the screen on the wall. I don't look. I hate that a moment so private and personal between Billie and I has been shared with a room full of people. It breaks my heart that she's being used and exploited this way, and it kills me to know that it's all my fault.
“I love her,” I admit.
“Ha, don't be fucking ridiculous. You've only known the bitch five minutes.”
“I've known Billie for twenty-two years.”
“And we were together for almost two, but you have never—not once—looked at me that way!” She leans forward in her chair and screams at me. Spit flies from her mouth, landing on the table and her chin. As she swipes it away harshly with the back of her hand, I stare at her in silence. Despite everything else that's gone on today, I'm a little stunned at her outburst.
“You're jealous?”
“Fuck off, Max. Just shut the fuck up and listen. I get what I want, or we go to court, and we fight for custody of Layla. I will bring up your stays at Winslow House. I will make these videos available to the court, as well as ensuring the photos of Billie in the pub and the footage of her drunk ass falling out of the cab at your gate are brought to the court’s attention. You will not get custody. Once child protection—or whatever the fuck the authorities here are called—look into my history, my previous, the accident, and the tox report from the hospital, there's a strong possibility I won't be given custody either, and where will that leave your precious daughter, huh?”
I stagger backwards. Luckily, Waters chair is right behind me, and I land in it as my legs give out.
“You'd rather our daughter is placed into care than let me be happy with Billie?”
“Pretty much.” She sits back in her chair and gives a satisfied smile to the empty room. “Glad you're finally getting it, Max.”
I stare down at the glass and chrome table. White noise fills my ears, as well as the sound of my heart shattering into a million tiny pieces.
I have nothing left to fight her with.