Chapter 35
Beth
I couldn't help it. I just had to know why he'd done it.
I knew I was letting my anger get the best of me. Veronica had tried to stop me from driving to his place and confronting him. "He's not worth it," she'd said.
I know she's probably right, because my visit to his office back then accomplished nothing. On the contrary. His assistant tried to brush me off, and he played the innocent again. I almost believed him.
But somewhere deep down, I knew I had to hear it from him.
One last time. If Ben ever asks me why he grew up without a father, I want to be able to tell him, with complete conviction, what he did and why he had me thrown out of my shop, sending only his assistant to do it.
I want to be able to tell him that he hated me and him so much, that he was playing games the whole time, just to achieve his own goals.
I want to tell him that...
I stop, realizing I've been thinking about him the entire drive here—to his villa. The place where this all started back then with a ridiculous, gold-leafed bouquet. I should have just run away then, forgotten about the few hundred dollars, and my life would still be in balance.
On the other hand, that thought means wishing for a life without Ben, which I absolutely can't imagine anymore. The sweet little guy simply stole my heart. "You just have to love him," Veronica once said. Maybe that's true. And maybe Alex Rodgers is, once again, the sole exception.
Just like before, I park the car in front of the wrought-iron gate. Memories flood my mind, and I push them aside as I walk up the empty driveway, my heart pounding.
I didn't even need GPS to get here; it's almost as if the route has been permanently burned into my mind.
A small voice in my head asks me why I drove here and not to his office, which is surely the kind of place where ruthless businessmen spend their workdays, swirling glasses of whiskey while they look down on the world and revel in the suffering they inflict on their fellow human beings.
I can't answer that little voice's question, because it was fury and desperation that drove me to do this.
Now that I'm standing almost at his door, I already feel small, stupid, and like the queen of incorrigible, naive women.
But I'm going to see this through, since I've already come all this way. For my peace of mind. For Ben. One last time.
I summon my courage, press the doorbell, and stare grimly at the camera lens, almost afraid to breathe. Nothing.
I try again, and as the anger takes hold of me once more, I finally pound loudly on the door. "Open up!"
But that doesn't get me the result I want either.
He's not here. I should drive to his office and confront him there.
But suddenly, I realize what must have led me here.
Ben was conceived here. We did it again here, and I could just slap myself for being so weak.
It started here, and it should end here.
Not in that giant skyscraper where his employees and his assistant stand guard like watchdogs to keep me away from him.
"He's not going to open up," a voice calls from behind me. I spin around, squinting against the sunlight, and have to shield my eyes to see who is slowly walking toward me up the driveway. Isn't that...?
"What do you want here? Did you follow me? Did your boss tell you that..." I burst out, once I'm sure that it's none other than Alex's personal assistant walking toward me.
"I know this must look strange to you. But I can assure you..." he begins, raising his hands appeasingly.
"What?" I cut him off. "That the summary dismissal was reviewed by numerous lawyers?
That it's legally sound? That your boss is a huge asshole?
" I blurt out. "And don't come any closer.
I have pepper spray here in my purse, I.
.." I say, starting to rummage frantically through my handbag for the small canister I haven't seen in a long time.
"Believe me. I understand you. I only did what he asked me to, and I'm tired of working for such an evil man. So tired. And I'm sorry for what he's done to you."
"You mean..." I pause, unable to believe what I'm hearing. His assistant is stabbing him in the back? Is this really happening?
"I mean you deserve the truth. But Mr. Rodgers doesn't give a damn about anything but money, power, and influence. He has no consideration, he's..."
"An asshole," I finish his assistant's sentence. This still seems a little strange to me, but at the same time, it feels so good to share my anger with someone who knows him too.
"Oh yes. That he is," his assistant says.
"Do you know where he is? I want to talk to him.
Give him a piece of my mind. One last time," I say, feeling a spark of hope, because this man will surely not deny me any request that could make things unpleasant for his boss.
It never would have occurred to me that his own assistant held a grudge against him.
Well, sometimes karma strikes back faster than you think. Serves you right, Alex Rodgers!
"It's hard for me to tell you the truth, miss," he says, looking away in shame.
"What? I thought you wanted to help me? No? What is it, then? Was that all just talk?" I ask, planting my hands on my hips.
"No, it wasn't. It's just that..." he trails off again, looking at me with a pained expression.
"You're afraid of being fired? Is that it? The man took everything from me. I'm left with nothing. And I'm sure you'll find a new job. Do you really want to keep working for someone you despise?" I ask.
"All right. But you're not going to like it," the assistant says, and his eyes seem to darken in that moment.
"He's up there," he says, pointing to the windows on the second floor. I know all too well what's behind them: his bedroom. "And he's not alone in there. You might remember his former assistant?"
"That Dilara?" I ask, feeling something tighten around my entire body, and I almost feel like I'm going to throw up.
"Exactly. She still technically works for him. But he pays her for sex. Crazy, right?"
"How do you know..." My voice becomes thin, and I fight back tears because I feel so damn stupid. Of course. He was filthy rich; he could just buy a woman. Several, even. And I thought all those conversations over dinner were real. The first prize for stupidity definitely goes to me this year.
"I'm his assistant. I know his dirty secrets," he says, his eyes glinting darkly again. "If you want, I'll show you. Come on."
As if on autopilot, I follow him. We walk around the house, past hedges and newly planted shrubs, and sometimes right through them.
Neither of us pays any attention to the flowers and flowerbeds.
My broken heart is hammering wildly, and I wonder if I can really bear the sight.
But curiosity compels me to follow the man who apparently wants to get one over on his boss.
"Here," he says finally, pointing to a ladder lying on the ground. "Help me. We'll carry it to the front, lean it up, and then you can have a look. But keep your composure. From what I hear, he's into anal sex."
I fight back the urge to vomit, because that's something I can't even imagine and have no desire to try.
But together with my new ally, I carry the ladder back to the front.
He leans it carefully against the house, and it seems to be the perfect length to risk a peek through the bedroom window in question.
"I'll hold it down here. Please be careful and don't lose your composure, whatever you're about to see."
I nod and start climbing the ladder. Rung by rung I ascend, and it feels like the air gets a little thinner with each step. I'm getting dizzy, my vision goes black for a few moments, and I have to stop several times.
"Everything okay?" the assistant calls from below, still holding the ladder steady. I can't manage more than a thin "Yes" and focus on the climb.
Then I'm there. I just have to see. I take a deep breath, climb the last rung, peer through the bedroom window, holding on as tight as I can so I don't fall, and see...
NOTHING.
There's no one there. Did he get the room wrong, maybe?
"Umm... could it be that you..." I begin, carefully turning my head to the side.
"You miserable little rat," I hear another voice drift toward us from the driveway. This time, too, I turn my head toward it, but I don't have to shield my eyes from the light, because the voice has been echoing in my head all day: Alex is standing there.
My world stops making sense, and for a brief moment, I forget why I even drove here. Why did his assistant say he was here screwing his ex-assistant when he wasn't even home? What exactly is going on here?
"Good of you to come. Right on time," his assistant says. "Look who I've got up here. What do you think will happen if I drop the ladder? I'm not sure if a fall from this height is fatal. What do you think?"
"Don't you dare do anything to Beth," Alex bellows, storming toward his assistant.
My head is spinning, and I don't understand anything anymore.
What have I gotten myself into? Alex and his assistant apparently really don't like each other.
But am I some kind of leverage now? Is he really going to push me over, ladder and all?
I always thought I'd scream in panic in moments like this, but I'm completely calm, wondering if I can grab onto the windowsill if I fall.
But then what? Without a ladder, that won't last long, and there's no one in the room to pull me up.
"I have some papers here," the assistant says, pulling them from his back pocket and throwing them at Alex's feet along with a pen.
"Sign them, and I'll leave the ladder standing.
"Alex picks up the papers, glances at them, and looks up furiously, his gaze alternating between his assistant and me, then back to the papers.
"Don't worry, Beth, I won't let anything happen to you," he calls out. I just nod mutely. I'm not capable of much more, and I don't know whether to laugh or cry, because the man who's taking my shop away and who ran off when he found out we had a child now wants to save me. The irony.
"You won't get away with this. Neither you nor Jake," he mutters, glaring darkly at his assistant.
"We'll see about that. But time's up. Are you going to sign, or should I..." The ladder wobbles, and now a scream does escape my lips as I try to hold on with all my strength.
"All right. Leave her alone. Here," Alex says, throwing the wad of paper and the pen toward his assistant. "Now let her go."
"With pleasure," his assistant says. Then I feel myself falling. He pushed the ladder over anyway. I can only think of Ben. Of my son, who will grow up without a mother and without a father.
It'll all be over in a second.
Forever!