Page 97 of The Forbidden
Panic claws my throat, thick and choking. Those three words. I don’t want them. Like a cornered animal, fighting to protect itself, something inside me snaps. I’m up out of my seat, shoving my face close to hers.
“You don’t know what love is,” I hiss.
She shakes her head, smiling sadly. “I do. And it’s you,” she breathes. “You are love.Mylove.”
I freeze, my eyes searching hers, then I push away from my desk, putting space between us. My laugh is sardonic. “No,I’m not. You’re fucking young, and I took advantage. Some good sex and you’re in love?” I chuckle darkly. “Fucking hell, Anais, get a grip. It was fucking. Nothing more, nothing less. Stop being naïve. I always thought you were delusional, but this,” I wave my hand between us, “is next level.”
Despite my hurtful words, she doesn’t back down. With tears in her lilac eyes, she glares at me, strong, determined. “You’re the fucking delusional one,” she screams, finger pointed at me like I’ve somehow forgotten who I am.
“Keep your damn voice down,” I warn.
Sure, the room is soundproof but that’s not the point.
“No. You need to hear this.” Her chest rises and falls with her anger. “You. Are. Delusional. Evan.” She enunciates every word. “I saw and felt exactly the same as you did that night. When will you admit you feel more?” She goads, and all my resolve snaps.
“Never.” I grit out. “Because I don’t feel anything. I told you,” I inhale, eyes narrowing. “I fucking warned you. I was honest from the beginning. It’s not my fault you can’t handle a no strings arrangement.”
She blinks, tears running down her face. I have the sudden urge to lick them, but quickly tamp that down. Her face screws up in disappointment. It hits me right in the chest. I don’t want to disappoint her, but I also can’t give her what she wants.
“Fuck you,” she spits.
I chuckle, but it’s void of any emotion. “We did. Several times, in fact. And now we’re done.”
Her breath hitches, disbelief flashing in her wide eyes before she masks it. The blank look on her face I fucking hate. Anais’s always been so expressive, always worn her heart on her sleeve, and I hate myself for breaking her.
“Do you know what, Evan.” She steps back, resigned. “I think we are.”
And with that she turns, holding herself gracefully, like I haven’t just destroyed her, and leaves my office, slamming the door behind her.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, Maxwell?” Harrison asks from his seat beside me, his assessing eyes curious.
Taking a sip of my scotch, I eye the four half-naked women wandering around Harrison’s apartment. None of them do a thing for me. My cock doesn’t even twitch. “Why the hell did you think it’d be a good idea to invite women to boys’ night?”
He glances up, looking at them as if he only just remembered they’re here. A smirk curves his lips. “Let’s just say, I thought we could all do with letting loose.”
“If I wanted to let loose, I’d go to Elite.” I grumble, my bad mood getting worse with every second that passes.
“I let loose most nights… but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to loosen up more.” Nathanial unhelpfully adds, a devilish smirk on his face.
“I can’t believe I left the nanny alone – who, by the way, has only been working for me for three days – for this,” Hayes shakes his head, his lip curled in disdain.
Movement from the entryway catches my attention. Jameson appears, his face stricken, and a hint of something else I can’t decipher lingering in his eyes. He pauses, surveying the women. His expression turns to one of disgust.
“What the fuck is this?” he barks.
Harrison rolls his eyes, his voice sardonic when he speaks. “Nice of you to join us, Jameson.”
Jameson shakes his head, moving further into the room and joining us at the round table. He takes the tumbler of scotch Parker hands him and downs it in one go. We all exchange a look, knowing something’s wrong.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
His gaze bounces between us. He exhales, running a hand down his face. “I found Monroe.”
A collective gasp rings out around the table.
Three words.
Three words I never thought I’d hear in this lifetime.
