Chapter 5
If Derrick hadn’t been present, Kara is more than certain that she would have flown across the room and scratched Nick’s eyes right out of his skull like a banshee. Snatched his devious snake tongue right out of his mouth and shoved it down his throat-
Because really . The nerve of this man.
Her face is hot and she refrains from covering it with her shaking hands. Derrick is giving her a strange look; he likely doesn’t believe the wild accusation. Despite that, Kara knows the whole point of the statement is to cause a sliver of doubt in her capabilities.
Along with her loyalties.
“That’s a rather inappropriate accusation, Nicholas.” Melanie’s eyes are wide, a mortified twist to her mouth. She gives a fleeting glance towards Kara, then away again.
Havenwood-Calais scoffs, shifting in a way that causes his suit coat to tighten around his shoulders enticingly. He makes a casual gesture with his hand again. “She’s not denying it, is she?”
This is Nick airing some seriously dirty laundry. This is what he thinks she’s been up to because she hasn’t been seeing him. Kara can read between the ugly lines.
Inhaling sharply, trying to keep herself in check, Kara snaps in a tight voice, “It’s hard to deny something that isn’t even true , you spiteful snake!” Oh, the blue tie at his throat looks like a fabulous noose right about now. She wants to yank on it, watch him struggle underneath her for once.
Is this his way of getting back at her? For the fact that she won’t see him anymore? Humiliate her and attempt to ruin her professional standing? The horrid man. Kara seethes, feeling her jaw begin to ache as she stares him down.
She never meant anything to him anyway, but the idea of her no longer being at his beck and call must be driving him up the wall. That has to be what it is. He holds a grudge like a motherfucker, clearly. He should have forgotten about her and moved on by now. That’s his way, right? To use, abuse, and leave?
He flashes his teeth at her in a deceptively pleasant grin, eyes cool. “That sounds like denial to me. What do you think, Derrick? You know what denial sounds like, I gather. You’ve haunted the courtroom long enough.”
Derrick grimaces in what must be age-old agitation. “I think we’re done here. I’m not going to listen to malicious sabotage of one of my associates.”
Melanie looks pained, but she turns to seriously stare at Kara once more. “Malicious or not, what is the nature of your relationship with Dietrich Bittinger? He is, after all, Paxton Brooker’s main financier. His money has backed the purchase of multiple properties and investments for Brooker over the years. This is not a small issue, regardless of the nature.”
This can’t be happening. Kara feels her nerves come alive. Is she actually getting inspected here? Is this the day? “I’m his…I don’t know what to call it. The help? I’m a minor cog in his legal team. Gale Clarke handles his main estate, litigations, most legal contracts, etc. and Tate Reggison handles…other stuff I’m not involved in. I’m literally his third-string lawyer. I pick up the things the other two can’t get to.” Pinning Nick with a venomous glare, Kara continues, “I’m not in a romantic relationship with him. I’ve not touched anything relating to his contracts with Paxton Brooker. I’m not even aware of what they entail at this time.”
“So you say,” Nick replies. “ At this time .” Clever man and his wicked way of unraveling words.
“It’s the truth!” Murder is in her eyes. Turning to Derrick, she says, “If that’s all you need from me here, I think I’m going to return to the office and die of embarrassment.”
Nick snorts. “You do that, Kara.”
Derrick gives her a look but agrees that she should leave.
As she makes her way to the door, the DA stops her. There’s an odd sort of shadow in her gaze now, as if uncertain of something. As if suddenly on her guard. “I hate to have to inform you of this, but you may be hearing from me again in regards to your client. The detectives involved would like to speak with Dietrich Bittinger at the precinct at his earliest convenience. Formalities, you understand. You will want to be present.”
Dammit, Dieter! Foreshadowing terrible police meetings over breakfast…
“I’m aware. We intend to schedule the interview. My client has nothing to hide.” Muscles tense, Kara feels her stomach drop. Her mouth has transformed into the Sahara Desert. Staring up at the taller woman, she asks carefully, “Are you charging him with something?”
“Well, no. Not at this time. But he needs to answer some important questions, being the financial arm behind Paxton Brooker’s Dark Mirage .”
Holy...oh, this isn’t good. Exhaling a shaky breath, Kara tries to force a weak smile to her lips. It comes off as watery and nervous. Great . “We intend to fully cooperate.” Dieter already knew this was coming.
“I’m sure you will,” Nick is drawling from his seat. He looks pleased with himself, like a giant cat that has beaten and bruised a mouse into submission between its claws.
I really want to flick that bastard off right about now. Throwing him out the window would also be satisfying.
Needing to escape the room, to escape those terribly knowing eyes, Kara flees out the door.
Honestly, seeing Nick again after all this time apart has been far too much.
As she’s walking through the city later, trying to clear her head of all the worries that have suddenly descended upon her, a painfully familiar number appears on Kara’s phone screen, bringing with it feelings of doom and heartbreak. Kara considers not answering, but that’s likely not an option, not after this encounter. The moment she picks up, his cultured voice snips through the earpiece, no polite greeting. "You have a lot of nerve, after ignoring me for months."
“I have good reasons for ignoring you, all of which you are aware of, Nick.” Not to mention the fact that she should have never been involved with him in the first place.
“I get it. I do.” For a moment he doesn’t sound so completely smug. “Can you stop with your twisted martyr routine and just…meet me somewhere? We need to talk and your woe-is-me wounded act is getting tiring.”
Well, Kara thinks he has a lot of balls to be calling her, what with that scorching accusation in the DA’s office. That and the secret fiancée business. Mostly that. "I'm busy, can’t talk."
A nasty little chuckle comes through the earpiece, accompanied by, "Busy until when?"
He’s being a pig. Absolutely. No doubt about it. Kara is under no illusion that he isn’t waiting for her to ‘get over’ the whole situation. He thinks it’s no big deal. It’s nothing to him. No feelings matter where he’s concerned. It’s insulting that he thinks she’s being the childish one in this drama.
Even if she dreams of him at night, she’s never going to tell him. He’s the last person on this planet that she should want in her life, especially after what he’s done to her in the past. There are good things they had together…and really fucked up things that shouldn’t be revealed in broad daylight.
The idea of even admitting to Bianca that she was sexually taken advantage of in a limo that night so long ago, and that she started a relationship with that very man soon after? Bianca would want to commit Kara to the crazy house. Despite the shame of it all, Kara doesn’t know how to detach herself from wanting him, the part of him that is good. Which is a small part of Nick, but still.
She’s not just going to give in, even though her insides are all in a knot about him. The sick, twisted thing they had together? It can’t be replicated. There’s no one else that can ever replace him. “Regarding you? Until forever.”
His sneer is nearly audible through the phone. “Oh, is that so? Forever is a long time to hold a grudge. You’re being pathetically absurd.”
“I’m not being pathetic, nor am I being absurd. You’re just disgusting and I don’t want to see you anymore.” She needs to push him away, what does she have to say to make him forget her? He’s not healthy for her! “I realize that must be a foreign concept to a man like you, but it is what it is. Accept that I’m done with you .”
I don’t want to be done with you, but you’ve made it impossible to stay. I can’t play ignorant.
He pushes at her more aggressively. It seems that seeing her in person has spun him up all over again. “You’re done with me? I don’t recall agreeing to that. We’re done when I say we’re done. How about this Sunday?” His tone goes soft, persuasive. “I’ll take you out, sweetpea. The way you like .”
It hurts, hearing him say the pet name that he’s given her. Like a thousand bee stings, all in her heart. Burning, aching, almost to the point of making her feel nauseous. The worst part of it is that he’s chosen Sunday on purpose, just to cause them to fight worse.
I wonder if he views this as foreplay? He probably enjoys all the anger and hate between us right about now. Kara doesn’t even want to think about what he’d be like in the bedroom, right at this moment. All that cold fire and vicious intent. All his anger at her leaving him in the dust.
Kara shivers, feeling a flash of heat in her belly, sick and unwanted. She’s a monster for even thinking about him.
This conversation is growing more uncomfortable by the second. Mainly, because he knows what happens on Sunday. He’s testing the water to see what her response is, to see if she’s been up to what he’s been assuming all this time.
Unfortunately for him, he’s partially correct on part of the matter.
Kara is torn between cringing and simply hanging up. Another part of her wants to hurt him, to dig the knife in under his ribs with her words. “I’m not available. Sorry.”
“Just come out with it.” His tone goes dangerously flat. “I already know what you’re doing on Sunday. Lying simply vexes me further.”
Twisting her lips uncomfortably, Kara says, “I’m not going to be in the city. I’m going out for the day.”
“That’s such a weak half-truth, it’s almost laughable. Try a bit harder.”
She’s going to burn for this either way. He’s already crucifying her in his head so she might as well just tell the whole truth. “Alright, you bastard.” A woman Kara passes by on the sidewalk gives her a scandalized look at her raised tone, but Kara isn’t hushing, not for anyone. “I’m going to a fucking polo match!”
“ Oohh . Of course, you are.” His voice goes hard, angry. He almost sounds betrayed, like she’s the one that’s been doing all sorts of things behind his back, as if she’s the one that had some secret fiancé. “Because you’re screwin-”
Kara hangs up fast before she says anything truly regrettable. She feels worn, exhausted. He’s emotionally draining. She hasn’t seen him in months, not since that dreadful party at his office. The night she found out about him and Claire. Every time she thinks of him, she feels ill.
Not only that, she feels sad . Heartbroken. Something she isn’t quite familiar with. At least, not over a man.
The only man in her life to break her heart is her father. Because of that, she never had much of a heart for another man to fit into, but somehow, Nick weaseled his way in.
It’s not that she didn’t know he was a bad man to start with. It’s more so that she finds herself stupid for not expecting him to be hiding a soon-to-be wife behind the scenes. Sure, he was always clear about no commitment, but knowing he’s engaged to be married makes everything nightmarish and sickly in Kara’s eyes.
How could he do this to her? Everything had been going so well…why did he have to make her want him, all while omitting the fact that she would always be a secret side piece? Even worse; his client and friend, Paxton Brooker, is being investigated for the underground torture porn ring that is operating in the city, pulling in the vulnerable from Paxton’s club, Dark Mirage .
What if Nick knew about it all along? Is he really the sort of man that would go that far?
Kara would like to think that he had no clue, no interest in it. In all their time together, he may have shown his darker desires, his fantasies with control, domination, and simulated nonconsent, but never did he ever draw blood or harm Kara in a manner that hinted towards true bloodlust.
Still. There’s so much she never knew about him.
At the office, she does her best to dismiss all thoughts of him. Kara’s only moderately successful in that endeavor; mainly because now she’s fretting about Dieter and having to schedule time for him at the police station for an interview.
Getting him in a room with cops? The very idea of it makes her sweat bullets. God, he’s such a loose cannon! She’ll have to call Gale. She doesn’t feel prepared .
Later that night, she calls Bianca to chat about plans for the weekend. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” Bianca quips, audibly typing loudly on her computer, likely working on some sort of program script. “Calling about Saturday night? We still good? What should I bring? Or, do you want to cook together? I found a good zucchini lasagna recipe; I’m dying to try it.”
Movie night with home cooked meals - or takeout, if they’re feeling lazy - has become the new norm for the time being. Kara is growing accustomed to it; she barely feels the need to drink anymore and that’s by design. Bianca has been a saint, sticking it out with her even though Kara knows she’d rather be out partying.
“We can cook together. You bring the ingredients; I’ll buy stuff for dessert.”
“Oooh, aren’t you fabulous? Right on. I’ll see you at six then, Saturday?”
“That works,” Kara replies softly, walking into her closet, glancing at her clothes with a certain air of distaste. Her mind is already drifting to Sunday. She never quite gets the right attire for the occasion.
The mad typing on Bianca’s end of the line goes quiet for a brief moment. “You aren’t getting up early on Sunday again to head out to the suburbs, are you?”
“ Mhmm… ”
“ Urgh! Your client is your boyfriend! I won’t be convinced otherwise,” Bianca says with disbelief. “I’ll cab it home after our movie; you always wake me up when you leave me for him on Sunday. I happen to like my beauty sleep, even if you don’t seem to anymore.”
God, she says him like Dieter is some sort of menace. Alright, he is.
Beauty sleep? Kara likes it, she just doesn’t have the luxury of that anymore. “Whatever works for you, B. Can’t wait to see you. Kisses.”
“Kisses, bitch,” Bianca says fondly, with only a hint of exasperation as she hangs up the phone.