CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SEBASTIAN
––––––––
W hat a fucking shit show!
“I’ll take that, if you’re finished with it,” Josh says as we watch Emily disappear.
I turn and hit him with a dark glare, then snap. “I’m not done with it. Keep doing your fucking job!”
Damn it, I probably shouldn’t speak like that to a SEAL.
He lifts his brows, unimpressed, and I shake my head. “Cool down Sebastian.”
I know Josh. He owns Black Hawke, the private security company tasked with protecting the diamond. His wealth is up there with mine.
Kind of.
He’s a very rich man and clearly likes to get out from behind the desk. Last I heard, he was not doing black ops any longer—that was handed over to other members of his team.
I was still surprised when he showed up with the ring last weekend.
“Shit. I apologize.” I hand him the ring because I am done with it and this entire charade.
“No apology needed.” He takes the diamond and slaps me on the back. “At least not to me.”
I look him in the eye and know without a shadow of a doubt that he’s talking about Emily. She charms everyone around her, and I’m not surprised Josh has warmed to her. Even as a married man.
“She is better without me. You know that.”
“Do I?” He shakes his head and looks at the diamond, then holds it up. “I better get this back. Take care, Sebastian. Drop by if you are in LA soon.”
I nod, shake his hand, and he leaves.
That ring should still be on her finger.
I snap out of it and glance around me.
Khalid is nearby with his entourage probably reeling, but I need to deal with Victor. I should never have ignored my instincts that were yelling at me, but I never believed he’d do this.
Brandon and Victor are waiting for me.
“Follow me.” I stride out of the room with them in tow and find a side room. We are doing this right now.
The door closes, and Victor launches into his defense immediately. “You going to believe that girl over me? I helped you start this company!”
There it is—the belief that he’s owed more than he is.
“You didn’t help me start this company; you worked for me when I started it. You did your job and have been compensated accordingly.” I shove my hands onto my hips.
“I did way more than that, and you know it.” Victor shoves at my shoulder, but I barely budge.
I have thirty pounds of muscle on him.
“Jesus, Victor.” Brandon steps between us. “As his lawyer, I’m advising you to move back immediately.”
Victor gives him an icy stare.
“Let him do his best, and we’ll see him in court. Make my day, asshole. If there’s proof in those documents that you sabotaged my development, you’ll spend the rest of your life and the next fucking paying for it.”
“Fuck you, Remington.”
Anger pours through my veins.
I need to get back out there to speak to the sheikh before he leaves. I know it will be a waste of effort. I did lie to him, and nothing can fix that now.
But he deserves an apology.
“Cut off all his access right now.” I tell Brandon, and he pulls out his phone.
“You can’t do that!” Victor yells.
“What part of I own the fucking company don’t you understand? We have evidence of corporate sabotage and tampering with company documents. Until we disprove these claims, you’re suspended.”
“Terri was lying.” He stabs his finger toward the door. “I threatened her job because she fucked up.”
Perhaps.
But I doubt it.
Terri has always been a dedicated employee, so when Emily said she saw the email, which I’m yet to read in depth, I believed her.
You believe the girl you have been sleeping with for a week over the man who has worked for you for over a decade?
Yeah, apparently I do.
“Hand over your security pass and phone or I will call the authorities to assist.”
Brandon gets off his call and holds out his hand, taking the items from a furious-looking Victor.
“Go home. Sober up. Think about your life choices. I need to speak to Khalid.”
“Good fucking luck with that.” Victor hisses.
I turn at the door, choosing my words.
“All of this because you think you’re due more than you are. You’ve thrown it all away.” I shake my head. “Thrown away your entire career.”
Because he won’t ever be hired by a reputable company after this. Word gets around.
“All I wanted was more shares. I’ve made you billions.”
I share a look with Brandon.
“No, Victor. I made the billions. I created this company, set the strategy, and hired the right employees. You did the job you were hired for. There is a difference. I took risks, I stayed awake night after night wondering if I’d lose it all.
I sat up until the early hours working out strategies, reaching out to partners and day by day creating success. ”
He glances away.
He doesn’t get it.
Most people don’t.
Which is why most people don’t start businesses, or if they do, many fail.
“I borrowed money, asked for money, put my name and reputation on the line, and overcame failures. You got up, went to the office, and then left at five. We are not the same.”
He snarls at me.
“No one owes you shit.” Brandon puts the card and phone in his pocket. “I’ll give you some advice for free, though. Get yourself a good lawyer. You’re going to need it.”
And with that, Brandon and I leave the room.
I feel betrayed.
I gave all my original employees shares to ensure their loyalty was rewarded and appreciated when I couldn’t pay top dollar. We went on the journey together and yes, of course they all contributed, but the same could be said for every employee working for any employer.
That doesn’t give them a right of ownership.
The law is very clear about that.
If he wanted more, he could have started his own company. End of fucking story.
As we walk back out into the hall, Colt and Zander are waiting.
“Alright?” Colt asks.
“Yeah,” I rub the back of my neck. “I’ll have to fire him.”
My two friend's nod.
“Tomorrow I’ll get the process underway.” Brandon sighs. “Poor fucking Terri. I threatened her job. I’ll make sure she’s looked after.”
I thank him, grateful I have members of my team that I can trust.
“Hey, check on Amanda.” I call out as Brandon heads toward the ballroom. She’ll look calm as fuck but on the inside planning my murder.
He waves out a hand in acknowledgment.
“Drew had to go. Work stuff,” Zander says. “What do you need?”
I feel my shoulders relax as my boys hold space for me. I need to find Khalid. What I want to do is walk outside, draw in a long breath, and process that I’ve just lost Emily.
No, you told her to fucking leave.
“Ring Mason and find out if she’s home safe,” I say, not needing to explain who I mean.
“On it.” Zander pulls out his phone and takes a few steps away while Colt studies me.
“Don’t.” I warn him.
“You ripped the fucking ring off her finger, Seb.”
“Don’t call me that.” I snap and start to move away, but his hand lands on my shoulder, stopping me, and our eyes lock.
He’s one of the few people I’d let do that.
“Colt,” I warn.
“You’re pissed off at a lot of people right now, including yourself. Emily didn’t deserve that.”
Goddamn it.
I can’t deal with this right now.
“She spoke to the protesters without my permission. She’s reckless and should have told me about Victor the moment she found out. I have to go.”
As I head back into the ballroom, Colt follows.
“She’s not just your employee.”
Fuck him.
Fuck Emily.
Fuck Victor.
This entire situation has blown up in my face.
Colt is right, I am angry with myself. That doesn’t change the fact that Emily shouldn’t have spoken to the protesters.
God knows what she said to Gordon Fanning.
Her na?ve comment that she could fix things would have been laughable if I wasn’t so furious.
God knows what the legal implications of this might be.
What was I thinking faking an engagement with a twenty-something-year-old? She has no idea how much this has cost me.
Billions.
It’s going to take a miracle to fix this.
Loss of trust from the market will impact our share price, and investors will shy away from other projects.
I stride through the room I last walked in with my beautiful fiancée on my arm and feel an emptiness in my heart that burns.
I told Emily I wanted to take her home and make love to her. I’ve never used those words in my life.
“Reema from The New York Times .” A woman steps in front of me, holding her phone loosely in her hand. Also known as a voice recorder. “Mr. Remington, would you be willing to share with us what happened tonight?”
“No.” I keep walking and glance around for Amanda and her PR manager, Ruth.
As if the universe is finally on my side, Ruth appears.
“Hey Reema, Remington Obsidian will not be making a statement tonight. It was simply some internal discussions overflowing into a work event.”
I nod at Ruth and continue toward the two men who are shaking hands and saying goodbye to those around them.
Khalid and Rashid Al-Mansour.
Disappointment lines the sheik's face as he turns to face me.
“Walk me out,” he says, striding toward me, and I nod, meeting his pace while Rashid trails behind us. “You’ve broken a sacred trust between two men. Two businessmen.”
He’s right.
However, I didn’t get to be one of the most successful men in this country by lying down.
“There’s money to be made on this development, Khalid. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have lied. I wanted to assure you that nothing took place between your daughter and me.”
His white limousine pulls up and we stop walking to finish our conversation.
“You used Emily.”
She wasn’t unwilling.
“We had an agreement.” I then add, “I know she didn’t like deceiving you. Or anyone.”
Adjusting his white head covering, he watches his brother walk to their waiting vehicle.
I have about thirty seconds.
“The bigger issue here is that I had a rat in my house who has sabotaged this project from the start,” I say, still wrapping my head around the events of tonight. “Victor will be fired, and I will fix the zoning and protester situation. Whatever it takes.”
Khalid slides his hands into his pocket.
“I’m very happy to hear that. Finally.”
What?
“I knew weeks ago that he was untrustworthy. He paid my daughter to...surprise you at the dinner.”
My brows fly up.
“What?”
“You made an assumption, Sebastian. I pulled out of the project because I wasn’t sure I could trust you or your team. I came to America to see if there was hope. You are right, there is money to be made.”
Jesus fuck.
“How do we fix this?”
“It doesn’t change the greater issue. My associates at home still think you made a move on my daughter. Your engagement to Ms. Harper has, let’s say, removed that concern.”
Christ.
That’s out of my hands now. Emily would never agree to continue the ruse.
“However, while I was happy to go along with it, now my brother and others overheard Victor. They know Emily is not your fiancée. That and the zoning delay is going to cost a lot.”
My brain races, trying to search for a solution.
“I’ll carry that cost personally. This was my fuckup. I should have seen he was a problem earlier.”
I fully take responsibility. I’ve been on edge with him for almost a year. It’s my job to foresee these things. It is going to cost a small fortune, but the impact on our reputation would be far greater.
If I can turn this around...
“That’s a big financial commitment.” He tilts his head in question. “With no return.”
Not as big as letting this collapse and taking my entire reputation and company with it.
“You have my word.” I slide my hands into my pocket and let out a long breath. “Tell me what you need to get back on board.”
He studies me for a long moment, then a sly smile creeps onto his lips. It grows the longer I watch him and it’s impossible to stop my frown.
“Announce your engagement.”
“What?” I exclaim. “Khalid, you heard what happened in there, right? Our relationship was not real. Emily—”
“Is in love with you.”
I blink.
Is she? She might be. Hell, I might even have feelings I wasn’t expecting, but all of that is irrelevant.
I will not marry.
Yes, I told her tonight that I wanted her to stay longer, but I never intended it to lead to an actual marriage.
I’ve seen enough pain between two people. Jack was fucking murdered. Catherine was a broken mess for almost two years. And those are just two examples of people close to me.
My relationship with Emily is steeped in lies, deception, and drama.
I cannot marry her.
But you want her. You want the stupid card games that have you teasing her, laughing, and then lowering her onto your cock. You want to wake up with silky locks in my face, then sliding down her body to lick her awake.
“I doubt very much she likes me right now, and I can almost guarantee she doesn’t love me,” I say instead of rejecting the premise.
Khalid laughs. Like throws his head back and barks out a laugh, then speaks words in Arabic I don’t understand.
It’s probably a good thing.
“Two weeks, Sebastian. Sort out these matters and come back to me in two weeks. Then, I will wire the funds to you.” His smile fades. “Last chance. There is good money to be made, and you are one of the best developers in this part of the world.”
But?
“But our reputations are everything, and I cannot be made to look like a fool. Put that ring back on her finger and get the zoning and protesters sorted.”
He walks toward the limousine.
Shit.
I can’t.
I can’t get married.
She would never agree to it in any case, but we can’t lie to our families.
You wanted her to stay.
Shut up, brain.
As Khalid leans into the car, he calls out, “Sebastian, you might want to ask your fiancée about her green plans.”
With a grin, he disappears and the door closes.
Her green what?
The limousine pulls away, and I stand on the sidewalk watching my future collapse.
I can’t meet his demands.
I let out a long sigh and wonder if she’s okay. The need to go to her weighs on me. I’m angry and yet need to know she isn’t hurting.
She is.
I know that.
I curse inwardly and am about to go back inside when Zander and Colt step up beside me. One glance at Zander and he lifts his phone. “She’s home. Mason said something about car karaoke.”
I frown.
“We’ll make sure Emily is taken care of. You focus on sorting out the rest,” Zander adds.
My gaze drops to the sidewalk.
Walk away, Sebastian.
Let Emily go so she can carry on with her life. There are other options. I could bankroll this at a massive cost personally.
I can’t get married.
“Okay.”