Chapter 43
PAIGE
I wake up to a warm arm around my waist and perfect stillness in my mind. There’s not a single thought. No anxiety, no headache, not even a hangover.
Rafe is sleeping soundly behind me. I can hear his deep, steady breathing.
I look over my shoulder. He looks calm, too. Face relaxed and handsome and hair mussed.
We shouldn’t cuddle. Those were the rules.
But this is the second time we’ve ended up doing it.
I slip out from his side and rummage through my bag for workout clothes. He doesn’t stir. No wonder. He must be tired from last night.
Heat climbs up my cheeks, and it’s not just from pulling on the tight leggings. I’m not shy in bed. Seeking pleasure has always been one of the few times when I feel perfectly, incandescently in tune with my body. Fully in the moment.
I’m out of the moment now.
And remembering his hot eyes on mine, watching me make myself come as he finished one final time.
I glance back at the bed. His hair is dark against the white pillows. There’s a small part of me that wants to climb back into the bed and see what happens when he wakes up.
But the larger part of me is reeling. I haven’t been close to someone in so, so long. It feels terrifying. And while we have a fragile truce and vulnerable moments in the dark, nothing’s fundamentally changed between us.
I’m still resentful of the position he put us in with Mather & Wilde. He’s still smug and superior. I need to find my way back to our easy argumentative banter.
I slip out of the hotel room for a run around Monte Carlo.
The lobby is already buzzing with people. I smile hello to one of the attendants and walk down wide stone steps to the plaza.
It doesn’t help that I’m starting to feel at home with his friends and his sister, too. I wish I didn’t crave it so very much. The feeling of belonging somewhere.
I turn onto the street parallel with the park. I should’ve brought my headphones. They help drown out the noise of my own thoughts when they’re more than I can stand.
I’ll have to run fast enough to drown them out instead.
“Paige,” a hurried voice says. A man falls into step beside me, familiar beneath a baseball cap with the words Cape Ann on it.
My uncle.
“Paige, there you are. Finally.”
My feet root to the ground, and panic floods me. He looks so familiar to me. The same as he did when he told me we should burn Mather & Wilde to the ground so Rafe’s shares become valueless.
He has dark circles beneath his eyes and a thicker beard than usual.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him.
“I’ve been waiting for a chance to talk to you. Alone.” He looks over his shoulder toward the hotel.
He looks a lot like my father. Always has, with the same face shape and thick hair. “I know you think you had to do this. But you didn’t. You can come back to me. We can work together.”
I shake my head. “Were you waiting out here? How did you know I was here?”
“I was in Paris anyway and saw pictures of you two in Monaco yesterday. Not important.” His hand lands on my shoulder. “Paigey, listen to me—”
“You were going to run it into the ground. You refused to listen to me.”
There’s something frantic in his movements. The difference between the man I once knew and the man in front of me feels like a punch. “I know, because we can’t let him win. Don’t you see that? We can’t let him turn it into something it’s not.”
“So you’d rather destroy it? All the people who work for us? They’re family.”
“No. I’m your family.” His voice hardens. “And you turned your back on that when you married him. He’s going to strip it down completely. Turn it into soulless, profit-seeking—”
“Successful. That’s what he might do. What we might do.” My heart is beating so fast I can hear the dull pounding in my ears. “I have a seat at the table too, and I won’t let it fail. You were going to let all of our employees lose their jobs because of your ego.”
“Ego?” My uncle draws himself up, like the accusation is obscene.
Like he’s not always had a vain streak. “I’ve seen the pictures.
You and your new husband, parading around Europe.
The wedding. As if you’ll ever get people to think this is anything but a coldblooded business agreement.
I know it’s not. He’s not the love of your life, and that’s what the will demands. ”
“Coldblooded?” I repeat. I used to think that of Rafe. That he was a machine, focused on facade and the bottom line. Sharp suits and sharper thinking. “I know what you did. You hired people to try to scare his family while you were trying to negotiate with Maison Valmont. What were you thinking?”
Ben’s face is turning pink. “Of course I did. I was fighting for our survival. You think he doesn’t fight dirty?”
I shake my head slowly. I’ve met Nora. She told me about what she went through. “Not like that, he doesn’t.”
Ben takes a step forward. “He and his father were planning to take us over for almost a decade. They bought shares anonymously. He’s the enemy, Paige. How have you forgotten that?”
I’m shaking my head again, and suddenly I realize that he might be recording this. He wants to prove that Rafe and I aren’t in love. And now I know how low he can stoop. What if anything I say might be used against us?
“He’s not like that,” I say. “He’s not my enemy. He’s my husband.”
“What are you doing, Paigey?” His voice lowers. “Montclair just got everything he wanted. You handed it to him.”
“No, I’m saving it,” I say. It feels like I’m breaking in two. There’s guilt, because this man, however flawed he is, is the last piece of family I have left. For so many years I protected his excesses and made excuses. Cleaned up messes and solved problems.
“I am Mather & Wilde,” he says. “You can’t take it from me.”
I laugh. I can’t help it, I laugh, and it sounds unhinged. “My great-grandfather founded it. Your grandfather. You were a custodian of the brand. We’re all just custodians.”
Ben’s forehead is beaded with sweat. I’ve seen him angry before, but never like this. “I’m going to prove this marriage is a sham,” he says. “Your shares weren’t yours to give. He’s not the love of your life.”
“Those shares are mine,” I say. The annoying clause my grandfather put in notwithstanding or not. “I’m in love with him.”
“In love? You hate him. You have told me that often enough.” He points a finger at me.
“Remember what he and his father did to the Blackwells? They fought tooth and nail to prevent the hostile takeover, and they failed, and now they’re wasting away in some fancy manor house with nothing to do.
Raphael’s the enemy. He’s playing you. He married you for one thing, and once he has it, he will cut you loose in a second. ”
“Don’t come near me again,” I tell him, and take a step back.
Ben follows. “When he does, I’ll be here, waiting. It’s not too late to divorce him.”
It is. He doesn’t know about the clause, then. I can’t divorce Rafe, or I’ll lose the shares. Just like he can’t divorce me. We’re locked together to see this through.
The clawing, panicky sensation is back in my chest, and I can’t stay here. “Leave me alone,” I tell him. “I’m done listening to you.”
“Done? We’ve hardly begun. Do you know how hard it was to get you alone?”
My heel brushes against the edge of the sidewalk. Get me alone? He’s been waiting out here. And he’s looking at me like I’ve done something wrong, like I’ve injured him, when he’s the one who has broken my heart. Slowly, piece by piece, over the years.
And now in one single swoop, it all shatters.
“Paige. Are you all right?” a voice asks. It’s hard.
Ben and I both look to the side. And there are West and Nora, holding hands. She’s staring straight at my uncle with wide eyes.
West’s face draws together in anger. “Ben Wilde. What a terrible surprise.”
My uncle takes a few steps back. The color is draining from his face. “Enjoy your vacation.”
“Not so fast,” West says.
I don’t stay. I turn on my heel and walk down the street, wrapping my arms around my chest like it can keep the anxiety locked inside. I can’t cry in front of any of them.
So I run instead.