Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Anna
I try to do as Jeremy asked, try to fall back asleep. But it’s no use—I’m wide awake. Returning to my own room, I dress and head downstairs in search of coffee. I’m about to make a pot when I see that Jeremy left a carafe of my favorite dark roast on the counter.
I pour myself a mug, then wander into the living room, which looks out on the same view as the master bedroom. It’s the golden hour, and the sky over the Pacific is breathtaking, a photographer’s dream. But despite the stunning view, I feel uneasy and don’t know why.
Slowly, I drink my coffee, hoping that it will improve my mood. I’m probably just tired. After all, what on Earth do I have to feel sad or anxious about? All of my wildest fantasies came true last night.
Well... not all of them. But it would be moving awfully fast for Jeremy to say the L word after just one night. Sure, I nearly blurted it out half a dozen times, but after six years, I know Jeremy Chase. And while my boss is many things, he’s not impulsive.
Missing him, I try to distract myself by studying. But it’s useless. I can’t focus. Even listening to music doesn’t help. Every song reminds me of him.
Restless, I wander through the house, which feels eerily empty when Jeremy and Elijah aren’t here. It’s big by San Francisco standards, a mansion, really. There isn’t a house in the neighborhood that sells for under five million. Yet it’s small compared to the monstrosities out in the suburbs, so before long, I end up back in the living room. Still, “small” or not, I wouldn’t trade this house for anything. I love it. Living this close to the ocean is magical.
My life is magical, if I’m being honest. How lucky am I to live in a multimillion dollar home, right on the ocean, working a job I love in a city that I never want to leave? It’s all beyond anything I ever dreamt of growing up, especially now that I know Jeremy feels the same way I do...
Or does he? He was in such a hurry to leave this morning. Maybe he regrets last night. Or maybe he was just that eager to see Heather. She’s way more his type than I ever could be, every bit as gorgeous as her famous sister...
Suddenly, I realize why I felt so off after Jeremy left. He lied.
Heather isn’t even in San Francisco today, let alone working overtime at Twinge. Her sister, Holly, is headlining a benefit concert in New York tonight. It’s been all over my social feeds for months.
Jeremy made me attend the Twinge Christmas party last month, even though I felt so out of place, insisting that it was for all of his employees. Desperate to make small talk, I mentioned the concert to Heather, asking if she planned to attend. She’d rolled her eyes and said something about not only was she attending, her mom was forcing her to arrive early so they could do a girls’ spa day. Heather was less than thrilled about having to take a red eye out of SFO the night before.
That was three weeks ago, Anna. Maybe her plans changed.
But then a strange sound in Jeremy’s home office distracts me from thoughts of Heather. The office, which doesn’t get much use, is just off the living room. I stare at the door, noticing for the first time that it’s ajar, as I try to identify the sound.
It’s familiar, but I can’t quite place it. Yet after a moment, it hits me—it’s the sound of a fax being received. Is that why Jeremy went into Twinge today, because he was waiting for an important fax?
If so, and it got sent here by mistake, I need to let him know. Setting my mug on the coffee table, I walk over to the office and go inside. Sure enough, a stack of papers rests in the tray of the fax machine.
Removing the papers from the tray, I carry them over to the battered leather loveseat that Jeremy refuses to throw away, claiming it has sentimental value. Placing the papers on the cushion next to me, I take out my phone, prepared to snap a photo of the top page to send to Jeremy.
But as I center the page in the frame, a name catches my eye. Setting down my phone, I pick up the top page and skim it, not feeling the least bit guilty. Because the name I saw? It was mine.
Feeling sick, I drop the page, not needing to read any farther, not wanting to read any farther. All of my worst fears have been confirmed—Jeremy is just like all the other members of Cygnus Niger, and I’ve been just as stupid as my mother was. Blinking back tears, I turn the papers over so that they’re facedown, unable to stand looking at the black-and-white, hard-copy proof that my magical life is over.
Jeremy
When the bank finally opens, I’m in and out in record time. On the drive home, I try to rehearse what I’ll say, but it all feels forced, not a real reflection of the depth of my feelings.
Entering the house, I call out her name. No answer.
I regret not checking the cameras earlier. But her car is here, and it’s not like her to sleep in. Although I did keep her up late last night... I take the stairs two at a time, knowing exactly how I’ll wake her.
But my bed is empty—as are her room and the upstairs bathrooms. Fear setting in, I call out her name again as I head back downstairs. Still no answer, but as I go to poke my head in the living room, I notice that the door to my office is open. Fuck.
If she discovered the safe room while I was out...
Stomach churning, I enter my office.
My relief at finding the monster’s lair still locked and hidden is replaced by a more formless dread when my gaze lands on Anna and her tearstained face. I shove aside a pile of papers and sink down beside her.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
Wordlessly, she hands me the papers I just shoved aside. I scan the first few pages and see that it’s the contract. I search for a mistake, something to upset Anna, but Heather did as I asked.
This wasn’t the reaction I expected and does not bode well for my proposal... Fuck. How do I fix this when I’m not even sure what’s wrong? I set the contract on the floor.
“You weren’t supposed to see that yet,” I say, deciding to opt for honesty.
She looks up at me, her face a mask of sadness, anger, and disbelief. “Why? Because you wanted to fuck me one more time before kicking me to the curb? I knew this would happen. All of your Cygnus Niger assholes are the same.”
I stare at her, at an utter loss, sure that I’m now the one who looks incredulous. What the fuck does any of this have to do with Cygnus Niger?
“Kick you to the curb? Are you fucking kidding me, angel? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
She frowns, as if my words don’t make sense. “Then why are you firing me? Tossing me aside the same way my father abandoned my mom?”
Suddenly, it all makes sense, and I groan. “Anna, did you even read the contract?”
“I skimmed it.” She shrugs. “It’s a severance agreement. There didn’t seem much point once I saw that my termination date was today. What else do I need to know? You’re done with me, and I’m not... I’m not even going to get to say goodbye to Elijah.”
At my son’s name, she starts crying in earnest, and I pull her into my arms. At first she resists, but I don’t let go. Realizing that I’m not going anywhere, she gives up completely, crawling into my lap and burying her face against my chest, sobbing as if her heart is breaking.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I did this. I made my angel this unhappy, and I need to fix it. Immediately. But where the hell do I even start?
“Anna, baby, look at me.” I slide a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “The contract—which if you’d read, by the way, you’d know is so much more than a severance agreement—was supposed to be a formality. Something you’d sign after.”
“After what?” she asks, voice slightly calmer now.
I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes. “Jesus Christ, this isn’t how this is supposed to go. It’s all wrong.”
“You aren’t making sense.”
I open my eyes and stare into hers. “That’s because I’m afraid I’m losing you, Anna, and I can’t think straight because nothing makes sense without you,” I say, chest tight.
When she doesn’t reply, I decide to lay my heart at her feet. If she tramples on it, so be it. I have no use for my heart without her.
“Anna... do you remember the first day I saw you in that damn convent library? Probably not, but I do. Right up until that moment, it was like I’d been living in a world without color. And then I saw you, and everything changed. I tried to deny it, but I’m pretty damn sure I fell in love with you at that moment. Loving you has made me a better man, a better father, just fucking better. What I’m saying is, you’ve changed me, Anna. And I can’t lose you.”
“You love me?”
“Do I love you? Are you really asking me that? Of course I love you! I’m fucking obsessed with you, Anna. And I can prove it.”
Sliding an arm under her legs, I stand and carry her over to the entrance to the safe room. I have to set her down in order to pull the painting that conceals the keypad away from the wall. I enter the code, and she gasps as the bookshelf next to the painting slides to the side, revealing the monster’s lair.
“Well? Do you need anymore proof than that, angel? You’re the fucking center of my world, and you have been—for three goddamn years.”
She doesn’t answer, just takes a few tentative steps into the room. Her eyes widen as she takes it all in. The wall of camera monitors, each set to record. The bulletin board with her weekly schedule, down to the minute, mapped out on it. The other wall filled with photos of her.
Seeing the room through her eyes, I realize for the first time how obsessed I am. And the terrible part is that there’s even more in the drawers and boxes and filing cabinets, which she hasn’t opened yet. Heart in my throat, I wait for her to pass judgment, to tell me how sick I am. Or worse—to run away and never look back.