CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 18
Carter
“Mr. Volcor, you have some returned mail that needs your signature,” my receptionist calls through the cracked door.
I don’t even glance up from my screen. “Bit busy right now. Is Liam in?”
“Yes, sir.” “Have him take care of it.”
She nods and disappears. My attention snaps back to the email in front of me—urgent, like everything has been lately. The Harringtons are circling again. Sterling Harrington’s been trying to buy out our Edenton properties for years. He owns most of the city now, but what little we still hold? He wants it bad. Too bad for him—I’m not selling.
Sterling and I go way back. Grew up together. Played on the same football team, dated the same girls, even drank under the same bridge. People might call us friends.
But when it comes to business? He’s a shark with a bigger smile and sharper teeth.
My phone rings. Speak of the devil.
I answer without emotion. “Sterling.”
“Come the fuck on, man,” he groans. “Sell me the lots by the mall. I’m offering market price—hell, I’ll even throw in that Brooklyn office building you were looking at. Let me help you out. Stock’s dipping, Carter. You know that. This is leverage—”
I let him talk, then cut him off cold. “Sterling.”
He waits.
“Get the fuck off my phone.”
He laughs, full-throated. “Goddamn, you’re still a stubborn asshole. I hope this doesn’t bite you in the ass, Volcor. I love you, man, but I’m getting that land.”
I smirk, leaning back in my chair. “I’d love to see you try.”
There’s a pause, then a long sigh. “Alright, alright… Listen. Nathan and Anika’s wedding is in two weeks. He wanted me to make sure you’re coming.”
So that’s the real reason for the call. I should’ve known.
“I don’t know,” I say, rubbing my temple. “Things are insane right now—”
“Don’t give me that corporate bullshit. No excuses. Just bring your ass to the wedding, bro.”
I hesitate. Sterling doesn’t push often. Not like this.
“Alright. Fine. Tell him I’ll be there.”
I hang up and turn my attention back to the contracts waiting to be signed when Liam barrels into my office like a man on fire.
“What?” I grunt without looking up.
He tosses two envelopes on my desk, both marked Return to Sender. “Seriously, Carter? I knew you were down bad for this girl, but I didn’t realize you’d completely lost your goddamn mind.”
I blink. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He taps the envelopes. “These. These checks made out to the woman who literally cost us billions. What the fuck are you doing?”
Fuck.
“How do you even know about those? That came from my personal account, not the company’s.”
“I had to sign for them,” he snaps.
“Signing doesn’t mean opening, Liam.”
“Well, I did.” He steps closer. “A million bucks? For one kid? What’d you think she was having, a baby or a small nation?”
I shake my head. “It’s one check. Calm the fuck down.”
“Oh, right. And this second check for a hundred grand?” He holds it up. “That just a love note?”
I freeze. “That one got returned, too?”
Liam nods, face twisted with disbelief.
Anger rolls through me like a tide. I grab my keys, my coat, my phone. “I’m going to see her.”
Liam’s right behind me. “Who?” he asks, shocked.
“My fucking baby mama,” I say, calling her that for the first time.
Liam whistles. “Oh shit. No way in hell I’m missing this. Let’s go.”
Ivy Monroe has been on my mind more than I’d like to admit. Every fucking day since she told me about the baby. I sent her those checks so she’d have everything she needed. So she wouldn’t have to struggle. Not on my watch. The million-dollar lump sum was to clear her path—whatever she needed, she’d have it. The other was the start of monthly support.
Neither check got cashed. She could’ve at least held onto them for when she needed the money—but nope. She rejected the damn things. She’s stubborn. And God help me, I still think about her. Her voice, her laugh, the way she kissed me like I was the only thing keeping her breathing.
I hate how much I miss her.
But I can’t get over the betrayal.
She released a story that nearly tanked everything I’ve built. Everything my grandfather built. I feel like she gutted me.
Still… I can’t stop wondering what we could’ve been.
“Just to be clear,” Liam says as we get in the car, “we’re showing up to your pregnant ex’s place uninvited because she didn’t cash your million-dollar check?”
“Yes, I want to make sure my kid has everything he or she needs,” I reply flatly, pulling out of the garage.
He snorts. “Sure, sure. Not about Ivy. All about the kid.”
I don’t answer. I don’t have to. I don’t believe it either.
***
The door opens after several hard knocks and a man answers. He’s average height, broad shoulders, tense as hell.
“Who the fuck are you?” I ask without thinking.
He blinks, stunned. “Excuse me?”
Liam elbows me hard in the ribs and jumps in smoothly. “Hi! My brother’s Carter. We’re here to see Ms. Ivy Monroe.”
Ivy appears behind him and freezes when she sees me. Her eyes widen, and without a word, she turns and walks away.
“Ivy,” I call out, but she doesn’t respond.
The guy steps in front of me, hand on the doorframe like a bouncer. “You need to leave.”
“Get the fuck out of my way,” I growl, ready to push past.
“You touch me, I’ll fucking kill you,” he says, stone cold.
Before I can react, a woman joins him at the door. “Mr. Volcor? What are you doing here?”
The man looks between us, eyes narrowing.
“Oh. I knew you looked familiar. Mr. Billionaire himself. And who’s this? Your hitman?”
Liam grins and salutes. “Guilty.”
The man’s lip curls. “I don’t know what you want with my sister, but she’s not changing that damn story. Lucky her firm ran it after she asked them not to, or your little secret would’ve stayed buried.”
My chest tightens. “She tried to pull the story?”
He scoffs. “Yeah, I’m sure you probably found out who she was and threatened her or got in her head. Said the facts weren’t all right. But it was the truth, man. The truth you tried to bury.”
Liam and I exchange a look. Ivy didn’t want to release the story?
“You think you can show up and scare us into silence? Fuck off. She’s not changing anything, and I’m not dropping that lawsuit. You ruined lives, Carter. My sister may be blind, but I’m not.”
I frown. “Wait. You filed the lawsuit?”
Before he can answer, the woman steps in. “Jeremy, you need to relax.” Then she turns her attention to me, “As Mr. Monroe’s legal counsel, I’m advising him not to answer any further questions. Anything you say can and will be used—”
My attention drifts past her and freezes.
On the arm of the couch sits a prosthetic leg.
My stomach drops.
Jeremy… Jeremy Monroe. The kid who lost his leg during that scandal.
He’s her brother.
I barely hear the rest of the yelling. Something slams. Maybe the door. I don’t know.
We’re already back in the car when Liam finally speaks.
“Yo. What the fuck was that?”
I rub my jaw. “That… was Jeremy Monroe. And Ivy’s his sister.”
Liam lets out a low whistle. “Wait. So you went on vacation, met a woman writing a takedown piece about our company—who didn’t even know you were you—and she wrote it because her brother is the guy who lost his leg? And she didn’t even want to run it after she met you?”
I stare at the windshield, everything spinning.
“She’s pregnant. She didn’t cash your checks. And now she won’t speak to you.” He exhales, low and disbelieving. “Bro… you’re living in a fucking soap opera.”
And suddenly, it all hits me.
The way she would sneak off with her laptop, shutting it the second I walked into the room when we were in the bungalow. How she’d close the screen like she was hiding something, right before I pulled her into bed and lost myself in her body.
The quiet way she held me that night on the beach. The way her entire body tensed when I told her I loved her.
I knew something was off. I felt it. But I never imagined it was this.
The woman I fell for? She wasn’t just a fling. She wasn’t just a journalist on assignment. She was the sister of the boy our company destroyed. The article that nearly burned everything down? It wasn’t just professional. It was personal. And I never gave her the chance to explain.
Didn’t even ask. I just shut the door and left her standing in the wreckage of what we could’ve been. Now she’s carrying my child. And I’ve turned it all into a war I don’t know how to win—when all she wanted was the truth.
I press my palms into my eyes, jaw clenched so tight it aches.
“I need a fucking drink.