EIGHTEEN
Levi
Well, that’s one way to do it.
I’d been trying to shut him up for a good minute but nothing was working.
I could feel Cece tense up in my arms. I even tried to gently push her toward the exit but she wouldn’t move.
Her whole frame was frozen, feet rooted to the floor—unfocused eyes blankly watching Taewon verbally eviscerate Iris.
There was a moment where I felt like Cece would start panicking. The calmness in her face was eerily reminiscent of the night she’d had her sensory episode. Which was why I really needed Taewon to stop talking since Cece refused to move.
But now I’m struggling to keep my face impassive, swallowing the snort itching my throat. Replaying the moment Taewon’s head jerked forward with Cece’s uncharacteristic slap.
“Shib—Noona!”
Rolling my lips inward I rid my face of any remnants of even a smile. Taewon’s face loses all color. I know he expected me to bring his stupid rant to an end.
But I almost want to high-five Cece for choosing a rather… effective method. Better than mine, of course.
“Stop talking,” she mumbles, frowning at the wall behind him. Then she slowly turns toward Iris. “I appreciate your apology, Ms. Desmond.”
But Iris isn’t looking at Cece. Her horrified gaze is still locked on Taewon. Her shoulders shaking with ragged breaths.
Suddenly her frame stiffens and she exhales sharply—visibly trying to get control of her emotions.
“Thank you, Ms. Wentworth. I wanted to make sure you know that I’ve…
withdrawn from the Astor-Wentworth account.
” She spares me a determined glance and I frown in confusion.
“I received confirmation from Grace Miller just a few minutes ago and she has assigned Jude Gallagher—another senior consultant. He’s done plenty of high profile mergers—”
I chance a look at Taewon who’s now glaring at his shoes, hands on his hips.
“—you’ll be in great hands.”
Cece nods politely, maybe even numbly. “I… that sounds good.”
But I can see the exhaustion taking over her body. She needs silence… now.
I clear my throat. “Thank you for your support in all this, Ms. Desmond.”
Even as I say it, my focus is fully on Cece. But she’s no longer reacting. The panic from before rebuilds in my throat. I need to get us out of here—in the quietude of my apartment.
Iris nods at me stiffly and I can see her jaw working to control whatever is brewing behind those blazed eyes that keep darting over to Taewon. But I can’t seem to care right now.
“And I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Choi—”
I frown as his jaw tightens, eyes flashing. His hands clenching, white-knuckled, at his sides.
“—but my research vertical is merely delayed by three months. It’s nothing really… in the grand scheme of things.”
Then just as quickly, she sweeps past Cece and walks toward the door, almost bumping into Taewon.
I wonder what this is all about. The only time I’ve seen Taewon this restlessly heated was when he was talking to Iris at the anniversary party. And also when his older brother dropped by unannounced—crashing on his couch for a month last year.
But this is different.
I step closer to Cece again, her body still frozen with what I believe to be faux strength.
And then I hear it. A soft rumble containing undeniable fury that even Cece looks over her shoulder in disbelief.
“Oh and Mr. Choi,” Iris grits out, her hands trembling over the door knob. “Thank you for your utmost civility.”
Taewon’s swallows—hard. But Iris ignores his reaction, nose flaring as she continues. “It’s good to know that you do keep your promises and… mean your apologies.”
I hear his shoes scrape the floor as he takes a frantic step toward her. “Iris—”
Her hand shoots up, stopping him in his meager attempt to approach. But I’m so thoroughly confused at what’s happening. Almost like they’re having an entirely different conversation between the lines.
“Ah-ah! Better not, Mr. Choi. I wouldn’t want to give you the wrong impression.”
And then she’s gone. Leaving a sputtering mess of Taewon who’s breathing too damn hard for someone who was completely in control of his voice a few minutes ago.
“Tae—”
“I’ll… I’ll catch you both later.” He cuts me off, practically sprinting out the door.
I don’t dwell on what just happened. Instead I watch Cece warring with something in her head, brows furrowed in concentration.
A few silent moments later, I turn Cece in my arms, running lazy circles on her back. But her hands don’t move from her sides. I can feel the aching distance that’s somehow cracked between us since last night.
I sigh, summoning my quietest voice. “I’ll take us home. The security has been informed of the… situation.”
“Space. You said you’d give me that,” she says softly.
God, I did say that. And I firmly believed it then. But I don’t know how to leave her by herself, given the circumstances.
“I know, baby, but…” I gulp hard, my heart frenziedly pounding against my rib cage. “Please? We can—”
“That’s not what our publicists said just now. I was already planning to lay low. We should wait until this blows over.”
“Okay, um—okay.” I exhale, trying desperately to find a way to have her by my side through the next week.
“Consider this. In a few days—maybe a week—RCMP will make a move. The public eye will shift to… well, my parents. And the scandal. It’ll get much worse and I just…
I don’t want us to be apart for that. It…
it would be better if we’re together through it. Right?”
Her brows furrow, gaze pinned somewhere near my throat. “Yeah. You’re right. But my condo building doesn’t have the private entrance to—”
“We’ll stay at mine,” I cut in gently, cupping her cheek. Hoping desperately that she’d give me her eyes. She hasn’t in hours. It’s almost as if she’s avoiding whatever she thinks she’ll see written on my face. “Let’s go. I’ll have Amanda grab your stuff from your place, okay?”
She nods dazedly, turning toward the door. And I quickly realize she’s so lost in her own mind that she barely cares about her purse sitting on the chair she’d occupied before—wholly forgotten.
So I grab it, following her out the door and walking to the basement lot in silence. Her phone’s been vibrating in her purse, constantly—my hands tightening around the leather every time I feel it whirring against my palm.
Fuck. I can only imagine what kind of notifications she must be getting bombarded with. I, for one, put my phone on airplane mode when the incessant calls from my parents and Uncle Gareth became intolerable.
Thirty minutes later, we’re at my building’s private basement that’s only accessible to me. Thankfully, we didn’t encounter any reporters or photographers during the short drive.
She didn’t ask for her playlist for the drive. I didn’t offer it because I already knew she wouldn’t want it. Not today.
She is so utterly silent—has been since the conference room. But I try my best to share the stillness instead of letting it stifle me. I can’t help but feel the choking dread of never being able to fix this chasmic error of my own damn making.
Her eyes are somewhere else, locked on the mirrored wall of the elevator as we move up, her hands tucked into her coat like she’s holding herself together.
“I’ll be muting everyone except Amanda, Taewon, and our lawyers,” I say quietly. “You should do the same. Turn everything else off for a few days.”
“I… blocked your parents,” she mumbles. “They kept calling since this morning.”
My lips twitch in spite of myself. “That’s—that’s good, baby.”
We step inside the marble foyer but something about the air is off. The kind of stillness that sets your teeth on edge. I brush it off. Just nerves. Paranoia, probably.
My keycard buzzes over the scanner as we reach my penthouse door, but my free hand doesn’t leave her back. Not until the front door clicks open.
Cece’s eyes trail toward the living room as she shrugs off her coat. Her voice is soft, but weary. “I was thinking… it’s too late to take the article down. The screenshots are everywhere. But what if we can trace the clause leak… find who it was, if it wasn’t your parents—”
I pause mid-step, turning to look at her. She’s in strategy mode. Or maybe it’s survival disguised as sharpness.
“—then we can challenge it, maybe even counter with a privacy or defamation claim,” she adds. “Assuming we can prove intent or at least negligence.”
I blink. “You want to go on the offensive?”
“Your parents did this one way or another, Levi,” she whispers, shrugging dejectedly. “So when the authorities come for them, we won’t be on the wrong side of public scrutiny—for the most part.”
She’s right.
Fuck, she’s right.
I nod slowly, stepping toward the tablet mounted on the wall to pull up the security screen and engaging the alarm system. “I’ll get Taewon to work with our lawyers on it. I know it’s my parents but you’re right about th—”
“Well, you two took your time.”
A voice slices the air clean in half.
Male. Calm. Smooth as marble, echoing from the kitchen area.
Jesus Christ.
Cece lets out a choked breath, something between a gasp and a scream. I act on instinct.
My entire body coils as I spin toward the sound of the voice, immediately shoving Cece behind me. Her fingers fist into the back of my shirt.
The hair on the back of my neck rises.
Because the sensor lights in the kitchen are already on. There’s a cup of coffee on the fucking island. And someone has already made themselves at home after breaking in.
“What the—”
The man himself casually strolls through my living room, a smirk playing on his face.
“Hey, you got creamer?”