15. Laurene
CHAPTER 15
Laurene
We were dancing close, but even though he seemed relaxed, I could feel the tension in Reese, like he was about to snap.
“You see?” I murmured. “Not so bad, right?”
He didn’t look at me. His eyes stayed glued to the spot where his father was a second ago.
You were a mistake.
Mama could be harsh, even manipulative, but Harold…
I was unprepared for what I saw tonight. The way he looked at Reese, like he was nothing—nobody deserves that.
But Reese did. His entire life.
I studied his expression. He held me steadily, eyes stormy but jaw firm. It wasn’t the grip of a broken man; it was the grip of someone who refused to be broken, no matter how much the world weighed him down.
That’s what I had loved about him.
“Reese,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “Talk to me.”
His eyes met mine, and for a flash, the act dropped. There was a glimpse of something real and fragile in his eyes.
“What’s there to say?” His voice was low and bitter. “It’s nothing new. ”
“You didn’t deserve that. No one does.”
I expected him to push me away. But instead, his grip tightened slightly, just enough for me to feel it.
“You don’t have to do this, Laurene,” he said, his tone quieter now. “Pretend you care.”
“I care,” I said, meaning it. “I always have.”
He stared into my eyes, and I wondered if he could read the truth—that I’d never stopped loving him.
The music changed to a slower beat, and we automatically drew closer. I rested my hand on his shoulder, my head on his chest.
“Just focus on me.” I tightened my hold on Reese, hoping that my presence could offer some solace and my what? Love?
Stay focused, Laurene.
I was here for one purpose only—get my money, then leave. Love had no place in my carefully constructed plans. Love didn’t exist between us anymore.
But for once, I wasn’t stressing about the inheritance, blackmail, or what came next. I was thinking about Reese—his pain, his resilience, the fire that had always drawn me to him. Maybe it was selfish, but seeing his pain, I felt the urge to be the one to soothe the storm raging inside him. To show him he wasn’t alone.
And maybe, just maybe, I wanted to let him back into the parts of me I’d tried so hard to lock away.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Laurene?”
“Nothing,” I lied, a reflex I hated but couldn’t seem to shake. “Just thinking about everything that’s happened tonight.”
His lips twitched in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Be honest.
“I always wanted this,” I admitted softly. “To be able to stand beside you, to hold your hand without fear, to be public about us. But I couldn’t, not with my family.”
Reese didn’t speak .
“It was horrible pretending,” I continued, not sure why I was telling him this. “Each time I saw you at a party or an event, my heart would race, and all I wanted was to run to you, kiss you, be with you. Instead, I had to pretend you didn’t exist. It was easier to pretend than face judgment.”
To them, I’m a King—a legacy, a prize. To him, I was just Laurene. And maybe that’s why I fell.
“You chose yourself, your family,” he said, and there was no anger in his tone—just a resigned acceptance that hurt more than any accusation ever could.
“I chose wrong,” I whispered, the confession tasting bitter on my tongue.
Reese was silent for a moment. The music changed again, something softer.
“You always were good at picking the practical option,” he said, his voice low. “Even when it broke your own heart.”
We figured it’d be easy: Reese would threaten to expose all the ideas Conrad had taken from him to the board, Conrad would back out, and we’d all be free. But Conrad didn’t just back out. He turned on us.
I should’ve been in charge, making sure everything worked for us. Instead, I watched it all crumble.
I took a deep breath. “I didn’t think about the damage it would cause. I wasn’t thinking about the fallout for you or our relationship. I never thought it would break you. And I didn’t care enough to stop it.”
Could we go back?
He stared, eyes dark and inscrutable. “You don’t get it, Laurene. I didn’t just miss you. I missed the parts of myself I lost when you left.”
I forced myself to breathe. His words twisted something in my chest. I hadn’t let myself think about him, not like this, not about how he’d been after I left. Why did I think he’d moved on? That he’d been fine without me?
“I didn’t…I didn’t really cope at first,” I said, my voice low, un sure of how much I should admit. “At first, I just existed. I wasn’t living —I was just going through the motions. And for months, I didn’t do a damn thing. I didn’t even know how to start again, so I just froze. I thought if I didn’t move, if I didn’t feel anything, it would be easier.”
“So why did you stay?” he asked, his voice rough, laced with a vulnerability that echoed my own. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because I was embarrassed.”
The touch of his hand on my cheek, warm and firm, grounded me; his thumb gently stroked my skin. “I would have wanted to be there for you, no matter what. I spent so long feeling like I wasn’t enough. Not for you, not for anyone.”
“You were more than enough,” I said softly. “Fuck what you dad said. You matter, Reese. You’re more than just this screwup you think you are. You matter.”
He lifted my chin. “You didn’t trust me.”
“I trust you now,” I whispered.
Without thinking, I leaned closer, my breath mingling with his, the anticipation hanging heavy in the air. Reese didn’t hesitate; he closed the distance between us, his lips crashing onto mine in a kiss.
The warmth of his lips met mine, and his hands cupped my back, pulling me near as if to devour the space that had separated us for so long. The scent of his cologne filled my nostrils.
The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us connected in a way that felt both familiar and new. The taste of his lips, the feel of his breath against my skin—it was intoxicating.
I missed this. I missed him.
I sighed into his kiss. He tasted like whiskey and those damn cigarettes he needed to stop smoking. When we finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, I looked into his eyes and saw the same desperation, relief, and possession reflected back at me.
I started to talk, but then I saw Blair Sterling behind Reese— smirking. Our eyes met, her smile faded, and she practically ran for the door.
Reese’s firm grip stopped me.
“Laurene, hold on.”
Pulling away, I said, “I need to talk to Blair.”
I brushed past him before he could say anything else.
The air outside the main hall was cooler. People milled about in small clusters, and there —I spotted Blair’s distinct red hair. She headed toward the staircase leading upstairs.
I followed her.
Upstairs was quieter, the ambient noise of the party fading into the background.
She turned a corner, disappearing from view momentarily. I quickened my pace.
Rounding the corner, I ducked against the wall when I spotted her by a door. She knocked, then the door opened.
I counted five seconds. The door was slightly ajar, letting light spill into the hall. I zoomed to the door, hoping they didn’t spot my shadow. I craned my neck to peek through the crack.
Candlelight cast shadows on the table, but Blair was nowhere in sight. The room, with its bookshelves and trophies, looked like a study.
“Did anyone see you?” I heard a voice.
“No.”
Blair stepped into my view.
She wasn’t alone.
Harold.
I sucked in a breath. No. Not him.
He stood close to her—too close—his face shadowed by the dim light. His fingers brushed her wrist before trailing down her arm. I stiffened.
“I don’t like this,” he said, his voice lower than I’d ever heard it.
Blair’s tilted head caught the candlelight, highlighting her smirk. “You never do. And yet…” She stopped talking, gently smoothing his jacket collar. A soft, loving touch. “Here we are.”
Harold let out a sharp breath, his shoulders tightening up. His wedding ring sparkled in the firelight as his hands rested near her waist.
“This is the last time.”
Blair hummed, unconvinced.
I pressed a hand over my mouth, nausea rolling in my stomach. Holy shit.
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat.
This was an affair.
Blair let out a quiet laugh. “Don’t look so guilty,” she teased, her fingers brushing his chest.
I spun around and raced down the hall. How do I tell Reese? I was heading downstairs when I heard shouting below.
Suddenly the hall door burst open, startling everyone in the vicinity. Toby came hurtling out, his face flushed with panic.
When did Toby get here?
He glanced back, eyes wide, like something—or someone—was on his tail. Then Reese ran out of the hall.
“Reese!”
Guests followed hoping to catch more drama. I had to weave through the clusters of people. Toby darted into a waiting car, his movements sharp and urgent. He slammed the door shut just as Reese reached him.
“Damn it!” Reese shouted, pounding his fists on the car’s window as it sped away.
I stumbled to a halt beside him, breathless and wide-eyed. “What just happened?” I gasped, the chill of the night seeping into my bones.
Reese turned to me, jaw clenched, frustration almost palpable.
“I almost had his ass!” he seethed, eyes glimmering with anger. “He knows something. ”
I took a step closer, feeling the tension crackling between us. “What do you mean?”
Reese ran a hand through his hair. “Toby said—” He cut himself off. “He said, ‘You’re looking in the wrong places.’”
Wrong places—but what the hell did that mean?