Chapter 24 The Real Gold Digger
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The Real Gold Digger
HENRY
Tension clenched every muscle in my body as the elevator soared up to the top floor of Tower One at Barangaroo—Tickle HQ. Although according to TechRaker’s article this morning, it might not be for much longer.
I’d chosen this office space because the International Towers development was world-renowned for its sustainability, innovative workspace design and natural light—one thing that could never ever be undervalued in my opinion.
The thought of giving all of this up, of moving our entire operation to the United States, seemed ludicrous to me.
But it never had to Atlas. Rage burned in my veins as the doors opened into the Tickle atrium. Sunlight streamed in, bouncing off the vibrant greens of the indoor plants that dotted the lounge space and the reception desk.
“Oh, morning, Henry!” Jaxxon, our receptionist, practically launched himself out from behind his desk. “How’s the wife? You managed to keep her under wraps!”
“None of your bloody business,” I muttered under my breath. “Is Atlas in?”
Jaxx sobered instantly, nodding. “He’s in a meeting, though. Do you want me to send him a message to come to your office when he’s done?”
“Unnecessary,” I barked, surging into the office.
Everyone, from coders to admin staff, stared at me across the open-plan space as I stormed past. A couple got to their feet, smiling until I scowled at them.
Vaguely I noticed a bunch of balloons in the corner, a big ‘Congratulations’ sign and a cake at the kitchenette.
I wondered who they were all for but didn’t have time to stop and ask.
I was on a mission to confront Atlas.
Liv was at her desk when I rounded the corner into the executive suite. She looked up, her beaming smile rapidly shrinking.
“Everything okay, Henry?” she asked. I shook my head mutely. I needed to deal with this before brunch with Ri, before I fixated and let it ruin things. I needed the brunch to be perfect.
I told myself it was for show. The media, even if just the tech circles, was watching closely. We had to play our roles. But that wasn’t the full truth.
Last night I’d crossed a line. Not that she knew how far. To her, the messages were just smart groundwork for the immigration case—especially after I’d been the one to draw the line in the spa.
But for me? Every word I typed, I meant. And that scared the hell out of me.
It wasn’t just the things I wanted to do to her—the filthy, intimate things. It was the way I felt about her, my wife, and that was the real danger.
I’d been trying to get my head straight, to face her after what I’d done to myself while texting her, when I saw the TechRaker article.
My confused yearnings for Ri were warring with rage at Atlas after reading that article this morning over coffee.
I was almost certain that Atlas had fed them the move to the US narrative.
Lucian appeared out of nowhere, falling into step beside me as I continued around the curved glass wall of the tower in the direction of Atlas’s office.
“You saw TechRaker this morning,” he guessed. I nodded, nostrils flaring as I sucked in a deep, calming breath.
“I know there was a lot in that article for you to be angry about, Bax,” he added, tone careful. “But he’s in a meeting right now, and I don’t think you want his guest to be privy to anything that you might have to say … about the future of the business, or about … her.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded sharply before shoving my glasses up my forehead and rubbing my eyes. “Sorry. This is in no way your fault, but it was a lot to take in this morning. Who’s in with him?”
Lucian’s mouth tightened. So, it was someone I wouldn’t approve of. That didn’t exactly narrow the field, but Atlas had always been reckless with business—and until now, it had worked out for us.
Until he started the rumour about us moving to the States.
I exhaled, trying to be rational. Maybe he hadn’t started it. Maybe it was just a creative journalist looking to stir the pot. I should give him the benefit of the doubt. But it felt too convenient, especially knowing how strongly he believed we were limiting ourselves by staying in Australia.
I was almost at his office now. He’d see me any second through the glass. I stopped, flexing my fists to control the tension rippling through me. If I walked in rattled, he’d dismiss whatever I said.
And that’s when I heard her voice—sharp, raised in anger. Or was it panic? I couldn’t tell.
“So it’s true, then? That he’s been secretly married to her for weeks?” Cadence demanded. “Before I ever met her? Oh God, is that why Lucian escorted her downstairs on the yacht? Because she’s been living with him this whole time?”
I held my breath, waiting for Atlas to respond.
“Cady …” Atlas sounded weary. “If you want to know about this so badly, why don’t you ask him?”
Cadence’s laugh was verging on hysteria.
“In case you haven’t noticed, he’s iced me out!
Nothing I do or say will convince him that I’ve changed …
that I would be good for him now!” She choked on what sounded like a sob.
I glanced at Lucian’s clenched jaw. He’d never like Cadence.
Then again, he didn’t seem to like Ri much, either.
“You can’t exactly blame him, Cady. You tore out his heart and trampled all over it, in a restaurant full of people, while he sat there with an open ring box, ready to propose to you!”
“Oh! So that’s a good reason to marry the first woman who shows him even a modicum of interest since me? It’s not lost on me that he’s been single for six years, Atlas! She’s a gold digger, and … she’s barely better than a whore! Has he lost his mind?”
Red tinged my vision, and my emotions overtook rational thought. I strode the last few steps into Atlas’s open office. The twin looks of shock on their faces barely registered against the pounding of my pulse in my temples.
“Do not speak about my wife that way!” I snarled, fists balled, muscles bunched.
Cadence’s face twisted. “Your wife …?”
I nodded. “My wife. Not that it is any business of yours whatsoever.”
Atlas leaned against his desk, his arms folded over his too-tight business shirt, and smirked. I ignored him. I’d deal with my issues with him later, once Cadence was gone.
Cadence’s eyes dropped to my left hand, brows knitting when she spotted the wedding band. “I don’t believe it,” she muttered. “I don’t believe that you could be this dense, Hen!”
A furious growl rumbled up my throat. “How is it that you think you get an opinion on the decisions I make in my private life, Cadence?”
She stepped closer, eyes watering. But she’d always been good at pretending feelings she didn’t have, knowing that she could trick me. My nails dug into my palms.
“I care about you, Henry!” she snapped, voice cracking. I swallowed. Maybe she wasn’t just putting on the waterworks to try and elicit sympathy. “I care about your wellbeing, and I—”
“I don’t want you to care!” I rumbled, stuffing my hands into my pockets to hide their angry tremor.
“I haven’t wanted or needed anything from you for six years, and you certainly haven’t tried to reach out to me in that time.
Funnily enough, it was only once you realised Tickle had become an overnight success that you started trying to reconnect. ”
Cadence’s hand flew to her chest. “That’s not … I didn’t know how to!”
I snorted. “And you conveniently figured that out the moment my net worth overbalanced your very long list of cons when it came to me! Who is the real gold digger in this scenario?”
She opened her mouth, but I shook my head, cutting her off. “You need to leave. Irina is meeting me for brunch, and I don’t want her to have to deal with your outburst.”
Atlas chortled in the background. I turned my scowl on him. “I have business to discuss with you too.”
Atlas tried to school the amusement on his face, but even I could tell that it was a poor effort at pretending seriousness. “Yeah, it might be best if you go, Cady. I’ll call you later, okay?”
Those words gave me pause. Why would he be calling my ex-partner? What had she been in here discussing anyway? Surely she hadn’t come in just to grill Atlas about my marriage?
“Well, you can tell your wife that I’m ending our brand partnership. It’s not worthwhile to provide her with freebies when her content is reaching such a tiny audience,” she bit out, heading towards the doorway where Lucian stood, glowering down at her.
She shoved roughly past Lucian and strutted stiffly off in the direction of the elevators before I could form a response.
“I’ll see her out,” Lucian muttered. I exhaled hard. Lucian would ensure that Irina didn’t bump into Cadence if she arrived early.
“Well, that was more than enough fun to make coming into the office on a Friday worth my while!” Atlas remarked with a chuckle. “Now, don’t come for me over the TechRaker article, because I—”
“Shut up.” I stormed around his desk and dropped into the chair, firing up the computer. Once logged into the Tickle back end, I dove straight into the code.
The algorithm script I’d built years ago ran twenty-four-seven, pushing content based on factors most platforms didn’t even consider—time of day, geolocation, proximity to other users.
It learned fast, adapted faster, than similar algos, and was the reason we’d scaled so quickly.
People stayed on Tickle because it always showed them exactly what they wanted—even before they knew it.
I was proud of it. Protective of it. And I had a strong suspicion our new investor cared more about my code than anything else.
Which is why Cadence’s comment about Irina’s low views set off alarms. This wasn’t something my algorithm should mess up.
My stomach tightened as I scanned the code. No signs of tampering. Was it glitching? Or something else?