Chapter forty-nine
Rylee
It was always about him.
W e drive straight from the airport to the office. Luc wanted me to go home and rest, but I couldn’t. Not after everything. This is all my fault. I don’t even know why I went to the bar that night.
As we enter the lobby, Alain is already waiting for us, leaning casually against the front desk. But the moment he sees Luc, he straightens, his sharp eyes flicking between us.
“It’s done,” Alain says, a satisfied smile curling his lips as he hands Luc a thick folder.
Luc pauses, his hands gripping the folder tightly as his eyes scan its contents. I watch the tension ease from his shoulders, the set of his jaw softening slightly. He lets out a long breath, a sound of quiet relief, and claps Alain on the back.
“I don’t know how you pulled it off, but thank you.”
Alain grins, his confidence almost infectious. “That’s why you keep me around.”
Luc turns to me, his hazel eyes softening, though there’s still a trace of something guarded beneath the surface. “You can wait in my office,” he says gently. “It’ll only be a few minutes.”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I’m really sorry,” I whisper as the guilt threatens to choke me.
He steps closer, his hands finding my shoulders. His thumbs brush against my collarbone, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe. It seems like he wants to say more, but instead he stands back.
We walk to the elevator in silence. As we step inside, I glance at him. His jaw is tight again, his eyes distant.
The elevator dings softly as we reach our floor.
Luc steps out first, and I trail behind him. He pauses, turning to face me one last time. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Good luck.”
He gives me a faint smile, the corner of his mouth barely curving. Then he turns and strides down the hall.
I walk toward his office, my heels clicking against the floor. I push the door open, stopping dead in my tracks when I see a man sitting there. His legs are crossed, and he has a smug arrogance that makes my skin scrawl.
“Who are you?”
He grins, leaning back in the chair with an infuriatingly casual air. “You don’t recognize me?”
“Should I?” I narrow my eyes at him.
“I’m Olivier.”
Olivier? I can see it now. He looks just like Luc, except that his long hair is straight with fair skin, and his presence is colder.
“Luc’s brother?”
“In the flesh.” The grin on his face widens.
“What do you want?” I glare at him.
He presses his lips together, as if considering, then gives a faint shrug. “I thought it was only fair we finally meet. Seeing you’re my sister-in-law.”
I scoff, crossing my arms. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and your brother, but leave me the fuck out of whatever game this is.”
His smirk widens. He steps back, as if retreating in slow motion, only to round the desk again. “How much did he pay you to marry him?” He pauses, tapping the desk with his fingers like he’s counting. “Or was it just a sweet deal for the marketing director position? Did he tell you he was helping you? That he was offering you a job out of kindness?” He tilts his head slightly, letting the question linger. “Did he also tell you it was his fault you lost your job in New York?”
“What are you talking about?” I whip around to face him fully.
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a yellow envelope. He places it on the desk with a quiet thud, his hand lingering for a second before withdrawing.
“The company you worked for? They might have been approved for the loan. But Luc made sure it was denied.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would he do that?”
Olivier straightens, stepping around the desk again. He moves closer, stopping just short of my reach. “You’re a smart woman. Use your brain.” He leans forward slightly, lowering his gaze to mine. “He needed you in Paris. For his marriage arrangement. To keep his CEO title.”
“You’re lying,” I whisper, my voice trembling despite my best effort.
“Am I?” He steps back again, pausing as he reaches the door. His hand rests on the handle, and he glances over his shoulder, his smirk returning. “Pleasure seeing you, Rylee.”
The door closes behind him, leaving me frozen. My pulse thunders in my ears, drowning out the silence.
He’s lying.
Luc bought the company after they were denied the loan. I knew that much. Their stock had tanked—anyone with half a brain would’ve seen the opportunity. But how did he know they were vulnerable?
I pace the room, Olivier’s words looping in my head like a broken record. My eyes flick to the envelope on the desk. Finally, I stop in front of it. My hand hovers, fingers trembling, before I snatch it up. I press my lips together as I slide out the stack of documents. My heart’s pounding as I begin to read.
It’s a bank statement showing $500,000 was transferred to another bank account.
That doesn’t really prove anything.
I flip to the next page.
A small note is sticking to the transaction record.
I know you might think this doesn’t prove anything, but look at the date. It was three days before the loan was denied. The money was traced to the loan officer who handled the loan’s application.
My breath hitches as I glance back at the date.
I pull out the next document, a printed email chain. My stomach clenches as I skim the words.
All required documentation has been submitted.
Financials verified and meet minimum thresholds.
The final email from the loan officer is short, dismissive.
Denied due to insufficient collateral.
The next page is a typed note.
Your company met all the requirements to qualify, but the loan officer denied it anyway.
The papers in my hands are heavier, the weight of the truth sinking into my chest like a stone. My eyes dart over the evidence again, desperate to find a mistake, a flaw, anything that would disprove this.
My fingers tremble as I pull out my phone. My chest feels tight, my breaths shallow. I scroll to Mia’s name and type out a quick message.
Me:
Hey girl, quick question. Did you tell Luc anything about my old company going bankrupt?
I chew on my bottom lip as I wait, my foot tapping against the floor. The seconds stretch into an eternity before my phone vibrates with her reply.
Mia:
No, why?
My heart sinks. My thumb hovers over the screen before I type back:
Me:
It’s nothing.
Her response comes quickly with laughing emojis.
Mia: Okay! And why are you texting me?
You should be enjoying your honeymoon!
Girl bye, go ride your husband.
I send her a few laughing emojis.
My hand tightens around the phone, and I glance back at the papers strewn across the desk. The transaction, the dates, the emails—all of it fits too perfectly. Olivier’s words replay in my mind. “He needed you in Paris.”
Luc said Mia told him about my company, but if she didn’t… how did he know?
I grip the edge of the desk as the realization crashes over me like a wave. Luc knew about the loan. He knew, and he made sure it would fail.
The room spins, and I have to sit down before my knees buckle.
Luc sabotaged me.
Why? So he could keep his role as CEO. This was never about helping me. It was always about him.
My chest tightens, nausea swirling in my stomach.
I can’t breathe.