46. Brogan
Iwaited until I got into my car to call Declan. “Hey, baby,” he said as soon as he answered. “I thought you had dinner plans with Lady Cruella?”
“Been there, done that, and something happened during it.”
“A good or bad something?” he asked, and I smiled at the concern in his voice.
“She’s letting me go.”
“She’s letting you go?”
“Yeah, her attorney’s going to draw up the papers ending the agreement we’d signed.”
“That's fantastic news, Brogan. It sounds like a cause for celebration.”
I grinned, knowing exactly what one with him entailed. “Hell yes. Where are you? You in Staten or Manhattan?”
“I'm still in the city at a press event, but I'll be at the penthouse in about an hour and a half. Why don't you come over in about two hours?”
“Sounds good. See you later.”
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” I replied before I hung up the phone.
This was definitely a cause for celebration, and once I got home, I started pacing around my penthouse.
Patience had never been a virtue of mine, and it still wasn't. For the first time in a really long time, it seemed like the black cloud over my life was finally starting to lift. I was about to be publicly single, not that I’d harbored any guilt when with Declan because she’d known about us up front.
Besides, she'd had her own share of suitors, and I’d never really cared to know who they were.
I should’ve felt a lot more happy. While I was relieved, there was something still nagging at me. Maybe it’d been her previous threats about revealing my secrets to the world. She seemed so happy bringing that information up and taunting me with it.
I’d never been one to submit to any form of manipulation, but she had something over me, and I didn't like it. In fact, I hated it. I hated her. Even as children, she'd always annoyed me. At one point in our youth, she’d follow Declan and me everywhere until she realized our pushing her down, ignoring her, hair pulling, and everything else hadn't been because we’d liked her, but because we truly didn’t.
She'd eventually found her own set of friends, and as we grew from children to teenagers, we’d never interacted much.
Mostly because she’d gone away for a short period of time just like I had.
She’d also returned, but unlike me, she was the apple of her father's eye. He doted on her, and as an only child, she stood to inherit Harte Media. I’d never needed her money because I had my own.
I also had my own empire. While there was nothing I could really say or do to keep her in line now, she had something over me so she could very well do it to me.
I growled and became a hell of a lot more unsettled over this.
Seconds turned into minutes, then the minutes turned to an hour as I began going out of my fucking mind.
Something had happened. She’d gone from wanting all my money to needing none of it.
Was it possible she’d found a new source of funding?
I quickly dismissed that thought, even though it was not beyond the realm of possibility that she’d found some other sucker to bankroll her lifestyle.
Although, it would never be the sort of money I could’ve provided unless she was putting out something.
I suppose she could’ve been sleeping with somebody, and maybe one or multiple lovers of hers were giving her enough, so she didn't have to deal with the likes of me. It’d also explain why she’d had this inflated sense of confidence.
I'd been used to her cowering to me, although she’d sass off to me.
As soon as she realized it’d slow down her money train, she'd fall back into line.
But something told me that wouldn't happen now.
What was to say she wouldn't decide the money she was getting wasn't enough, and now she wanted to blackmail me. She didn't want to be tied to me, but she could extort me. Declan had even told me that he couldn't let news of our relationship get out.
It hadn't just been me worried about my father cutting me out of my legacy. While my father knew I was with Declan, it irritated him to this very day. Actually, angered was a better word. Enraged even, but this whole agreement had been done to pacify him.
What the hell will he do now that it’s over?
He’d threatened to have me removed as CEO, or at least make me a useless one, because the truth of the matter was that between the shares he still possessed, the pull he still had with the board, and the connections he had with others across the world, he could very well follow through, so they weren't idle threats.
They were more like promises, just as I suspected her threats earlier were promises more than threats. Maybe it was even a warning.
“Fuck!” I cursed.
How in the hell did I get into this situation?
She needed to be stopped, but I didn't know how I was going to do it. This nervous energy ignited in my veins and began to flow through them, burning like wildfire. Just sitting here wasn't enough, and while I did plan to go to Declan’s house to celebrate tonight, I couldn't do that right now.
He’d see straight through me. He knew me better than anyone else, and he always knew when I was experiencing any sort of anguish or doubt.
If I felt it, he could name it. No, this would only concern him, and I didn't want him to worry about Layla’s threats.
I didn't think she’d purposely set out to hurt him, although she’d certainly set out to hurt me, and I couldn't blame her. I did treat her like a nuisance because that was exactly what she’d been to me.
At the very least, she'd been a hindrance since we’d entered into this arrangement.
Perhaps this dissolution was because it was getting closer to having to plan the wedding and get tested for the infertility treatments outside of the initial tests we'd done upon signing the agreement. It was possible that it was starting to become real for her. Unfortunately, it’d been real for me for well over a year.
While she now was free to do whoever and whatever she wanted, my personal life was still one that had to be kept secret like some dirty, shameful indiscretion when Declan was the love of my goddamn life.
I used to think it wouldn’t matter in this day and age, but then I’d remember one of the former board members who, during the course of his midlife crisis, had divorced his wife of twenty years and taken up with another man.
I’d followed their reaction to him closely because I'd wanted to see how the antiquated board would react, and they'd done exactly what I’d feared they’d do.
They’d ended up forcing him out by buying up his shares.
In fact, it was why my father still had as much power as he did now.
He’d bought ninety percent of those to add to his own, which put him back ahead of me.
I was the one running Sinclair Pharmaceuticals, but my father was right.
If anything got out about Declan and me, my career would be over.
Declan's career would take a hit, and Layla would laugh all the way to the bank.
She'd probably do interviews, media appearances, and press releases.
She might even write a fucking tell-all book, and I could see it now.
From the boardroom and studio: The downfall of a Pharmaceutical CEO and a Hollywood leading man…
No, she absolutely needed to be stopped.
I didn't know how to do it, but I couldn't leave things the way they were, even for tonight.
If I did, I could very well go to sleep in the arms of the man I love and wake up to a clusterfuck in the morning.
I wouldn't allow this. I grabbed my keys and headed out of my penthouse.
Layla's condo was not too far away, so I arrived there relatively quickly, and after I knocked on the door, there was no answer.
I knocked several more times until I finally heard a muffled voice on the other side.
With my luck, she already had company, but I still knocked again.
“I'm coming, goddamit,” she said through the door before she flung it open.
She was wearing a silken robe and her hair was wet as if she’d just gotten out of the shower. I looked over her shoulder but saw no one.
“Am I interrupting anything?”
“My life,” she sassily retorted.
“May I come in?” I asked.
“Sure. I think you have some personal effects you need to get anyway.”
I stepped inside at her invitation, even though it was a reluctant one at best. I still took it, and as I stepped inside, she was completely alone.
There were no other sounds. Most of the lights were off, except the one in her bedroom and the dim lighting in the living room.
When she turned in a huff and walked toward the bedroom, I heard the ruffling of clothes. Maybe she did have somebody in there.
“Are you coming to get your fucking shit?”
I forced myself to tamp down my attitude as I walked into the bedroom.
She started pulling a few shirts and T-shirts from the closet, and I had no idea how she’d gotten most of these.
She had to have taken them from my place before.
I supposed if I was her fiancé, it’d make sense that I'd have a few things here even though she had nothing at mine. I would’ve burnt the shit as soon as I saw it.
“You’ve acquired quite a few of my things.”
“For show, asshole. At least it was. Since I don't need to pretend anymore, you can take it and leave.”
I picked up one of the T-shirts. It had the name of my college plastered across the center. I remembered how much she liked to parade around and take selfies wearing my shirt. I gathered it, along with a dress shirt or two, ball cap, and other things she had.
“Why are you even here?” she asked me as I started to walk out of the room. I dropped the stuff onto the countertop, then spun around and watched as she roughly yanked a brush through her hair. “Are you going to elaborate? I thought we said everything we had to say earlier.”