Chapter 19
Roxy
Imarch out of the elevator and collide with Cal.
“Are you okay?” he frowns. “You look pissed.”
“Just spent the lunch break with my family. Always a delight.” I chuckle, the sound brittle, wrong. I sound deranged even to my own ears.
“Fuck,” he grunts. While he might not know what’s going on, and he doesn’t even know my family, his parents are horrible enough to understand. “Do you want to talk?”
I laugh. “You really want to listen to me raging?”
“Not at all.” Panic flickers across his face. “But I would if you wanted to.”
His offer brings tears to my eyes. Stupid, traitorous pressure behind my lids. Fucking emotions. Why do I have such a tough time controlling them lately?
My misty eyes shock Cal more than my wrath.
I attempt another weak smile. “Thank you, but I’m just going to fume in my office, and then I’ll be as good as new.”
“For sure?”
To his credit, he isn’t trying to escape the conversation. I almost feel obliged to share with him. But it’s not like I can do that. To tell him about my family. Or about sleeping with the enemy.
Jesus.
“I’m good.” I try to move past him, but he doesn’t let go.
“You look… upset. Is this about Stone?” he asks carefully.
I try not to react, pretending to look at someone passing by. Do I need to tell him in a different language that I don’t want to share?
“Because you two have been”—he makes a vague circling gesture—“less hostile lately.”
Less hostile? That ended a few minutes ago when I discovered he’s planning to marry my sister. But Cal doesn’t know that.
Cal is just being concerned about me, and I wish I could appreciate it.
“It’s not about him,” I lie.
Cal eyes me skeptically. “Look, I know this whole setup has been… rough.”
Setup? “You mean the competition?”
He winces. Just slightly. Enough. “Corm’s idea,” he says quickly. “He wanted Stone close. Under his eyes. I argued against dragging you into it.”
“Dragging me into what?” I was upset before; now I’m furious… and confused.
“The hoops. The pressure. You were never the variable here.”
Something cold settles in my stomach. “So I was… what? Collateral?”
“No,” he says immediately. “Absolutely not.” He stops himself, jaw tightening. “You’re more than qualified. That was never a question.”
I stare at him, willing him to continue.
He just shrugs. “It’s almost over.”
That’s what breaks something open inside me. Almost over?
Not you’re about to win.
Not this is yours.
Just… almost over.
“I need to go.” I step forward, the beloved hum of the office screaming in my ears.
He closes his hand around my arm. “If there is trouble, real trouble, you can come to me. Always.” His voice is low and ominous.
The word always lands heavier than it should. Does he know who my father is? I’m dealing with one revelation already. I don’t have room to contemplate another one.
“Thank you, Cal.”
He nods and leaves me there, gawking after him. It has all been just a game to them. My future has been a game to them. Fuck.
And what does he mean by real trouble? I thought I was so smart, using my mother’s maiden name, but clearly the Merged partners did their research. Of course they did.
A hollow laugh rattles in my chest. Jesus. I thought my game was clever. And if they know I’m Roxanne Lock, then Liam fucking Stone has probably known all along.
A small part of me still hoped this was all just a coincidence. A wild chance he ended up here, getting close and personal with the older sister.
Goddammit.
On impulse, I march toward Liam’s office and barge in without knocking. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice whispers that I should first collect information and calm down. That voice doesn’t stand a chance.
Liam looks up and smiles. I’m hit with a tsunami of conflicting feelings—heat, fury, attraction, betrayal—crashing on me all at once.
It stops me in his doorway, my pulse racing. My mind scattered. My heart… let’s not involve that organ.
I’ve grown to appreciate that smile of his. One he doesn’t really offer much.
He looks so fucking good behind that old museum piece of a monitor. One he never got rid of. Just to tease me.
I glare at him without speaking, letting the silence stretch, daring him to fill it.
But also wondering, What did I want to say or do here? Why do I even bother with confrontation?
“What a pleasant surprise.” He stands up and saunters around his desk. “I thought the affair was over,” he teases.
“You’re engaged to Tawny Lock?”
He halts, his smile morphing into something else. Something guarded. Frowning, he opens his mouth, but reconsiders.
I’m not sure if he’s assessing how much I know, or if he’s coming up with his own spin on things.
When he says nothing, I continue. “You know I’m her sister.”
It’s a statement. I don’t need to ask. I might not have details, but I can make educated assumptions.
“As much as our fathers would love to bless that union, I’m here because I was never interested in marrying a child.” His words land like a slap, not cruel, but precise. I step back.
He came here to get to the older sister. Fuck. And I ate it hook, line, and sinker.
“Roxy—” He steps closer, his beautifully sculpted face contorted into something that might be regret, or just plain calculation.
I don’t trust this man.
The thought slices through my chest like a sharp blade. Because a second ago, I did.
“Shut up. Just don’t talk.” I stretch out my hand to protect my space. “I told you this morning that we’re over. This only confirms that I was right. It was just a meaningless affair, anyway.”
He winces, actually winces, and steps closer. I almost take a step back, but fuck, I’m not going to cower.
“I will get you what you came for.” I jab my finger in his direction. “But you’ll promise to stay away from my sister.”
“I’m not interested—”
“I swear to God, Liam.” My pulse thunders so loudly that half of Manhattan must hear it.
He shakes his head in exasperation. “Okay. I promise to stay away from your sister.”
“Not that your word means much.” I snort, my vision blurring, my heart hammering in my temple, making me dizzy.
I need to calm the fuck down. This is how mistakes are made.
“Can you please hear me out?” His plea is urgent and low, stripped of all bravado. That terrifies me more than anger ever could.
For a split second, I see his restraint, frustration, and something dangerously close to sincerity.
I don’t trust this man. Worse, I can’t trust myself around him. I let his words, often full of praise, fool me enough already.
“Fuck you, Liam. I’m not listening to a word you say. Everything you ever told me was a fucking lie.”
We are so close now, his scent embraces me, familiar and dangerous.
“Thunder…”
The nickname is a whisper, laced with regret and hope. It tugs at the strings of my heart; my eyes burn again. Just don’t cry, Roxy.
A knock on the door jerks us apart. “Mr. Stone, sorry to interrupt, but your mother is on the phone.”
He doesn’t look at his assistant, his gaze locked on me, like he can still anchor me here. “Tell her I’ll call her back,” he barks.
“She says it’s urgent.”
Liam groans.
“We’re done here, anyway.” I march out of his office.
I stop in the middle of the open-concept floor, not really sure where I’m going.
My hands tremble. The lump in my throat threatens to tear a scream loose.
Around me, the space hums in its typical rhythm: keyboards clicking, voices low and urgent, phones ringing, laughter drifting from the break room.
Someone shouting, someone explaining, someone celebrating a job well done.
The Merged symphony I’ve come to love feels like a finale. Like the last notes of a song I’ve memorized, but will never hear the same way again.
When I forced my father’s hand to let me taste freedom, my goal was to build a life for me and Tee. My brothers smirked at the idea.
Naively, I thought it was possible. Stubbornly, I had to try.
But maybe freedom was never meant to be clean. Maybe it always demanded a price.
I’m not letting Tee be the one to pay it. She’s young. She still has time. She still has a chance at a life that isn’t negotiated, traded, or signed away.
In the end, my father wins. But not at my sister’s expense.
My gaze drifts to the open door of my office across the floor. The neat stack of folders. The mug I never use. The chair molded perfectly to my posture.
I don’t walk toward it.
“What’s going on?” Corm glares at me, his voice echoing around his office. The vein in his temple is dangerously swollen as he tries to rein in his reaction.
“Nothing. My priorities changed.” I fight the urge to fidget in my chair. I’m not going to show him my internal turmoil.
If I look uncertain, he’ll try to fix it. If he tries to fix it, I’ll cave. I can’t afford that.
Corm scoffs. “No, they didn’t. Is Stone blackmailing you?”
Not far from the truth. Not blackmail. Leverage. Proximity. The kind that doesn’t need threats to work.
I came here because if I don’t make the call now, someone else will. And I refuse to let that happen.
I can feel myself losing ground. Losing clarity. Losing the one thing that has always kept me safe—control.
Liam didn’t force anything. That’s the problem. I let him in. I let him unsettle me, distract me, make me reckless in ways I haven’t been in years.
And once I stop being fully in control, I become useful. Manageable. I won’t let that happen again.
“No, he is not blackmailing me. Just let it be. He is better suited to be the partner.” I swallow around the lump in my throat, and hope he didn’t hear the subtle break in my voice.
If I say it often enough, maybe it will sound like conviction instead of surrender.
Corm glares at me for a moment, despite knowing I never waver under his famous withering gaze.
I want to today, though.
“He’s not better suited.” The pen in his hand breaks, the pieces dropping onto his polished desk. “We never wanted him to buy in.”
I snort. So Cal was right. “Why did you ask him to compete then?”
I’m so tired, I just want to crawl into my bed and be done with this day. This week. This fucking year.
Corm’s jaw ticks. He stands up and goes to his corner cabinet. Pulling out a bottle of his precious Macallan, he pours himself an inch.
He swirls the liquid in the glass and then looks at me. “He wanted in, and I needed to find out why. I needed him under my watch.”
“Did you find out?” Not that it matters at this point.
“Not yet. Did you?” He takes a sip.
I snort, not bothering to answer. I found out how dangerous attraction can be when it blurs intent.
I found out how easily I forget myself when I want something too much. I was too distracted to even try to find out Liam’s real motivation.
By his cock. But also by the stupid competition. By the illusion that this was ever just about work. I’ve been a pawn on their chessboard all along.
“Why are you giving up, Roxy?” Corm sits beside me. I wish he didn’t. “If it’s money, I’ll give you a loan.”
I laugh, fighting the urge to snatch his whiskey and throw it in his face.
He put me in the same ring with a man whose presence already destabilized me. “You made me compete with him!”
He raises his arms in a mock surrender. “Okay, that was just the circumstances. We needed to make it legit for him.”
“And you didn’t think about reading me in on your little charade?”
Didn’t think I deserved the truth? Or thought I’d play along if they never named the rules?
“Don’t be dramatic. It was good practice for you.”
I stand up. “Fuck you, Corm. I’m glad I’m stepping out. You clearly don’t trust me or respect me enough, so maybe this whole situation worked out well for everyone involved.”
If I stay, I validate the game. If I compete, I become part of the trade. If I leave, I take myself off the board.
He stands up, practically trembling with anger. “No, it did not work out well. You deserve the partnership.”
Oh, how I wished to hear those words before. How they still seep warmth and satisfaction into every corner of my being, eating away at my resolve. I let them soothe me for a beat.
This is how they get you. With affirmation, just late enough to make you doubt yourself.
“It’s too late for that.” I lift my chin. “I had an affair with Liam Stone, breaking the rules. I can’t stay here under the circumstances. It wouldn’t send the right message.”
The argument is bullshit wrapped in corporate policy, but I don’t need Corm to dig deeper and discover more.
I need a clean exit. One he can’t argue with.
I’m also eighty percent sure I’m making a mistake. But Liam used me. And so did Corm. I’m standing up for myself.
He jerks his head. “I fucking knew that. It changes nothing.”
“It changes everything.” My eyes burn again. Since when have I been such a crier? “I have to go.”
If I stay another second, I’ll ask him to save me. And I won’t forgive myself for that.
Without waiting, I burst out of his office. I have never been prone to drama, but today has been trying enough. I need to step out of here and compose myself. See the forest, not the trees.
In a very uncharacteristic move, Corm follows.
Oh, the irony. I always wanted them to care. To take me as one of them. But, Jesus, let me fall apart in private.
“Is he blackmailing you?” Corm asks as we reach the elevator.
A few people in the lobby freeze. Alina’s eyes widen as she drops the phone receiver she was holding.
I can feel their gazes on my face. The humiliation burns, but it also hardens something inside me.
The elevator dings behind me. “You asked that already.” I step into the waiting cart.
This time, he doesn’t follow. Finally, he understands I don’t need his bullying. I need to get out of there.
“This conversation is not over,” he warns.
“You will get my letter of resignation tomorrow morning.”
I won’t explain it. I won’t negotiate it. I won’t soften it.
And hopefully, I won’t regret it.
The door closes, and the shock on his face would have been satisfying. Under different circumstances, I would cherish the moment when I rendered Cormac Quinn speechless.
So many times, I watched him smirking as the elevator doors closed in front of me.
Being the one to leave in the middle of the conversation with my boss would have been rewarding. If only I had something to smirk about.
The first tear rolls down my cheek before I even reach the lobby. I wipe it away angrily.
This isn’t defeat.
It’s withdrawal. And I’ll choose my next move carefully.