Chapter 22 #2
“I’ve built up a lot of walls to protect myself,” he explains, his voice melding with the humming of the crickets. “This—my family, my life—it’s the last wall I’ve got, Riley. And I’m tired of having anything between us.”
For someone who claims not to be good with words, he’s got me breathless with these ones. Sure, it’s not like he’s laying it all out for me, but I can read between the lines enough to know what he’s saying. He’s asking me, in his own way, to break down the final wall between us.
The fading sunlight casts a golden glow across his sharp cheekbones, his dark hair shining like the night sky, and my heart swells so much I feel like I can’t breathe.
I want to break through that wall. I want him to let me.
I want to stay by his side through it all, prove that he made the right choice trusting me.
I want to tell him I love him.
If ever there was a right time, this has to be it.
I don’t even get the chance to open my mouth when my ringing phone cuts through the quiet night air.
We both jolt in surprise, and I wince when I realize it’s the ringtone I set for Taylor.
“Jesus,” I say with a laugh as I pull my phone out of my pocket. “Sorry, it’s Taylor. She only calls when it’s an emergency. I’m not running off, I promise, just let me find out what’s going on.”
I don’t want to leave him hanging, not now of all times, but Taylor knows where I am. If she’s calling right now, knowing that I’m meeting Nick’s family, it has to be important.
“Hey,” I answer, planning to ask if she’s alright, but she starts talking immediately.
“I’m on my way to your apartment,” she says, sounding frantic and upset. “You need to read the link I sent you. It’s… fuck, Riley, it’s not good.”
Worry sinks like a stone in my gut.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just read the article and come home,” Taylor insists. “I sent an Uber to Nick’s place for you. Call me back when you’re on your way, okay?”
“I—Jesus, okay,” I agree, confused and unsettled.
We hang up without another word, and I unlock my phone to open our text thread.
“Sorry,” I say to Nick over my shoulder. “I don’t really know what’s going on, she said she sent me an article.”
There’s no preview to the link she sent, so I click it and wait for it to load as Nick comes up behind me, wrapping a strong arm around my waist. I melt back into his chest, taking the comfort to soothe my concern over whatever has Taylor so worked up.
The page loads quickly, and my gut twists into a violent knot as I read the title.
Anonymous Tell-All: D’Amico Global CEO’s Sordid Affair With His Employee!
I stiffen in shock and terror as I skim through the article, nausea racking my gut when I see several of the photos that were left on Nick’s doorstep peppered throughout.
A lot of it is hyperbole, some of it just flat-out lies, but there’s enough truth throughout that no one will bat an eye at the exaggerations.
It paints Nick as a disgusting, manipulative predator and me as his all-too-willing victim, using him to secure my job and screw over my coworkers.
Even worse, the implication in the article is that I’ve been sleeping my way up the ranks since I was an intern, getting people fired and demoted left and right to make myself look good.
My chest feels tight in an entirely different way than it did just minutes ago, and my breathing picks up as panic rushes through my bloodstream. Nick curses behind me where he’s been reading over my shoulder. I flinch away from the sound.
“Fucking hell,” he bites out, pulling me closer. “I’ll call my lawyer; we’ll get this pulled as soon as we can.”
My spine goes uncomfortably straight, and I yank my way out of his hold, whirling around to face him with panicked eyes.
I shake my head, holding my phone in a trembling hand and trying not to vomit.
Or scream.
He said he would fix this.
He said he would handle it.
He told me not to worry about a goddamn thing, and I sat around twiddling my thumbs, trusting him.
Apparently, that’s all he’s been doing too.
Things have only escalated since the photos showed up, and I’ve been too wrapped up in how special he made me feel to see the danger around me before it was too late.
“I’m done,” I whisper, terrified of everything, my own words included.
This is all too much, past too much. What the fuck was I thinking?
He’s my boss! He’s got fucking mafia ties!
And there’s obviously someone who doesn’t want us together.
I don’t know if this was Bruno or someone else entirely, but whoever’s behind it is clearly willing to do whatever it takes to ruin this thing between us.
They’ve succeeded.
My career is down the drain, my relationship—if I can even call it that—isn’t strong enough to handle this.
I have no idea what to do about any of it.
Whether I was the target or just a convenient way to get to Nick doesn’t matter.
People will whisper no matter where I go, no one will ever take me seriously as a professional again.
“The fuck does that mean?” The look on Nick’s face is somewhere between angry and terrified, his eyes frantic as he reaches out to me, but I stumble back. “Riley, just let me handle this! I’ll fix it, just give me a second.”
“No!” I step further away, my heels making me wobble in the soft grass, but I hardly notice it the way my whole head is swimming.
“I wanted a quiet life, Nick, a simple life! I just wanted to keep my head down and work and see my friends and read my books and just be normal! I can’t fucking do any of this. ”
Nick’s hand drops to his side as he halts, staring at me speechlessly, and tears well in my eyes as I shake my head. I can’t say everything that’s echoing in my head, can’t bear to hear myself say any of it out loud, so I just repeat myself hoarsely.
“We’re done. I’m done.”
My heart shatters in my chest as the words fall from my lips, and I turn away from him before I can see the effect they have on him. It’ll be more than I can bear I know that. I’m already weak and shaky, and I can’t handle the sight of him for a second longer.
“Riley!” he shouts. “Riley, wait!”
My panic makes my surroundings blur as I dash back through the house, barely remembering to grab my purse on the way out.
I stumble down the gravel driveway, wobbling over the uneven ground in my heels as tears run down my cheeks.
The Uber is already waiting for me, and I clamber into the backseat without bothering to wipe my tears free.
The lady in the front seat glances in the rearview and wordlessly hands me a pack of tissues before pulling out of the driveway.
A glance back shows Nick standing halfway down the driveway, watching the car pull away and looking like I ripped his heart straight out of his chest.
I turn back around in my seat and ignore the fresh wave of tears that streaks down my face.
I’m done.
I have to be.