Chapter 20 #2
His gaze drops down to the file pressed against his chest before meeting mine once more. Instead of explaining, his brows narrow as he snatches the folder away from me like it’s poison, gripping it hard enough that the edges crumple.
“You were looking through my office?” he barks, glaring at me as he pushes up to his feet. “I let you in my house, and you go snooping through my stuff?”
A furious laugh tears out of my throat as I stand drilling a finger into his chest.
“You don’t get to be mad!” I shout, incredulous rage bubbling in my throat.
“You’ve been fucking stalking me! I haven’t told you a single goddamn thing about myself that isn’t in that folder!
” A dangerous, terrifying thought wraps itself around my brain stem, and I take a slow step away from him, closer to the door. “Are the pictures even real?”
“What?” Nick’s voice softens with confusion as he blinks at me. “What do you mean? You saw them!”
“I saw them mysteriously show up at your door with no note and no explanation!” I press, inching closer to hysterical.
“Who says you aren’t behind them? Is this all just some big charade?
Scare me to earn my trust and seem like some knight in shining armor?
Have you just been lying to me this whole time? ”
Nick sighs in frustration and rakes his hand down his face, scraping his palm roughly over his stubble. My heart pounds with a mix of terror and agony.
“You have five seconds to start talking,” I whisper, backing away even further. “Or I’m leaving and never coming back.”
“Goddamnit, Riley,” he huffs, dropping the file back onto the low table.
He turns his back on me, and he reaches for a decanter of whiskey on the little table tucked against the wall by his desk.
Is this really it? Is he giving up on me, on us, that easily? Before I have a chance to spiral into that conclusion properly, he starts talking.
“I’m not lying to you,” he says as he pours himself a hefty glass of whiskey. “I never lied to you. Not outright. I kept things from you, yes, but I didn’t lie, and I’m not about to start now. I have nothing to do with those pictures. I don’t know who does, either.”
He turns to face me again, overfull whiskey glass in hand. I search his face for any sign of dishonesty. It’s almost more terrifying to find nothing but truth shining in his eyes.
That means someone really is threatening us with those photos.
“Then what the fuck is that?” I ask testily, nodding my chin toward the file.
He rakes a hand through his dark hair, tousling it until it falls across his forehead.
“I told you I’ve wanted you for a long time, Riley,” he says, sipping at his whiskey like he doesn’t want to admit what he’s about to say.
“I just didn’t tell you how long. I decided you were going to be mine the day you started your internship.
You were all nervous and sweet, tripping over yourself to do anything anyone asked.
I wanted to wreck you. I wanted you to belong to me.
And then I saw your work, and the more you impressed me, the more I needed you.
So, yeah, I had my brother do a little research on you. So what?”
My brows arch so far up my forehead they damn near meet my hairline. “A little research? You have my whole life story written down. You have my mom’s fucking address, Nick!”
“I wanted to know you!” he shouts back, slamming his glass down on the glossy surface of his desk, uncaring of the way the whiskey sloshes out over his fingers.
“I’m your CEO, Riley! It wasn’t as easy as just asking you out for lunch.
I have a reputation to worry about and my family’s reputation to worry about.
If I asked you out when you were an intern, everyone would assume you got the job because we were fucking. I was trying to be careful!”
He was only worried about himself.
Anger coils in my stomach as nausea begins to take over.
“Of course… can’t risk your precious fucking reputation.
” I scoff, shaking my head. It doesn't matter if there is truth to what he says; every word makes me feel like nothing but a complication. “You know… I thought you cared about me, that you liked me, but this was all just some fucked up game to you, wasn’t it?”
“I’m not playing you!” He practically explodes, turning to pace furiously as he talks. “I did all of this,” he gestures to the file, then between the two of us, “because I care. Because I wanted to make you mine… and you are mine.”
Laughter erupts from my throat at his words. “You’re fucking insane. Next you’re gonna tell me that you only hurt me because you care, right?”
“Jesus Christ, Riley, no,” he says, looking genuinely aghast and disgusted at the suggestion.
“I would never—fuck, why would I take things slow if I didn’t care about you?
If I just wanted to hurt or fuck you? Why would I fire the intern you were competing with to make sure you got the job if I didn’t want you around? ”
The brief guilt that flares in my chest at his horrified reaction to even the thought of hurting me like that fizzles out in an instant as he continues talking.
“You’re the reason I got the job over Alex?
” I ask, my voice shaking with rage. “How fucking dare you? I worked my ass off for this job. I decided where I wanted to work back when I was still in school, Nick! Did I even earn it? Or did you just rob someone else of the opportunity to advance their career so you could get your dick wet?”
Nick makes a frustrated, exasperated sound deep in the back of his throat, and his hands flash out toward me. I flinch back without thinking, but all he does is grab me by my shoulders.
His grip isn’t harsh, but it is unyielding, and he stares at me flatly as I reach up to shove at his hands, attempting ineffectively to twist free from his grip.
“You’re misunderstanding me,” he says sharply. “Stop for a fucking second and let me explain.”
I don’t tone down my glare, but I stop trying to shove him off.
“I’m not the best with words, especially not when I’m upset.
I’m not upset with you,” he clarifies before I can go off on him again.
“I’m upset because I don’t know who sent those photos and I’m worried about you.
I want to keep you safe.” He loosens his hold on my arms and swipes his thumbs gently over my shoulders, looking into my eyes as he continues.
“You earned your job. Every inch of it. It would have gone to you no matter what. I never mixed my feelings for you with my appraisal of your work.”
As much as I want to believe him, part of me doesn’t. My mind floods with a million questions, all pointing back to the file he created on me and despite what he is saying, he’s running in circles. So how do I know he’s not just saying this because he’s losing control?
“I care about you, Riley,” he says, firm and sure of himself as he pulls me in closer. “I’m not going to let you go, not over this. We’re going to work through it, and I’m going to make it right.”
Tears still prick at the corners of my eyes, but I don’t stop him when he pulls me in against his chest. I want to be mad at him—fuck, I am mad at him—but I can’t deny that I want to forgive him too.
“You’re such an ass,” I mumble into his shirt, sniffling. “I can’t deal with all of this, Nick. This and the pictures plus work—it’s all too much. What the hell am I supposed to do?”
He squeezes me tight, rubbing his hands up and down my spine. “Let me handle it, Princess. I’ve kept you safe up until now, haven’t I? Just let me keep taking care of you. Don’t ask me to give up just because things are hard. I’m going to handle it, and I want you here with me while I do.”
I inhale deeply, sucking in the faded scent of his heady cologne as I allow myself to take comfort in it.
He’s right.
As pissed off and freaked out as I am about all of the shit going on, he’s right.
He told me he was going to get everything with the photos handled, and he’s already working on it.
And he didn’t even try to lie to me when I confronted him about the file.
Though I’m not entirely sure what to make of that.
All of this is going to take some work, but if he says he’s going to make this better…
I’m going to believe him.
Or at least, I want to believe him.