Chapter 1 #2
Reid kept both hands on the steering wheel, his knuckles white against the black leather.
He hadn't turned on the radio. The only sound was the muted hiss of the tires against the wet asphalt of the Evergreen Point Floating Bridge, the headlights of oncoming traffic cutting rhythmic slashes of light across his hard, aristocratic profile.
I stared out the passenger window. The Seattle skyline was a blurred smear of red and white lights in the steady drizzle. My chest felt hollow, a cavernous space where twenty-four hours of accumulated humiliation and quiet anger had finally settled into a cold, heavy mass.
"You were embarrassed out there tonight," Reid said suddenly. His voice didn't carry its usual corporate polish; it was sharp, clipped, and heavy with a week's worth of suppressed irritation.
I didn't turn my head. I watched my own reflection in the dark glass of the window. "I wasn't embarrassed, Reid. I was non-existent."
"Oh, come on, Gwen. Don't start this now.
" His foot pressed down slightly on the accelerator, and the car surged forward silently, a smooth, terrifying burst of speed that mirrored the sudden spike in his temper.
"It was a charity auction. A networking event.
I was doing my job. The deal we locked down tonight ensures the funding for the entire manufacturing project. "
"Your job," I said, finally turning my head to look at him. The dashboard lights cast a faint blue glow over his sharp features. "Is Victoria Albright your job too? Because from where I was standing, it looked like she was managing more than just your foundation."
Reid let out a harsh, mocking breath through his nose. "Here it is. I knew this was coming the second you pulled that passive-aggressive stunt in front of the board. You dragged a local environmental cleanup into a high-level conversation just to undermine her."
"I asked a legitimate question about a community that is going to be destroyed by your work!
" My voice cracked, the emotion I had been locking away all evening finally breaking through the surface.
"But you wouldn't know that, because you don't see the communities anymore, Reid.
You don't see the people. You only see numbers, and timelines, and whatever legacy Victoria is whispering into your ear while she stands so close to you she might as well be wearing your jacket. "
Reid’s jaw tightened so hard a muscle strode out along his cheekbone. He swung the steering wheel, veering off the highway onto the Medina exit with a sharp, aggressive motion that had me gripping the door handle.
"Victoria is a well-connected consultant," Reid said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, low rumble that was terrifyingly controlled.
"She understands the scale of what I’m trying to build.
She doesn't small-talk me about local city councils when I’m trying to change the entire electrical infrastructure of the coast. She does her research, she handles the data, and she supports the vision. "
"And I don't?" My voice was barely a whisper now.
The raw hurt sliced through my chest like a physical blade.
"I supported you when we were living in a one-bedroom apartment in South Lake Union and you were working eighty hours a week on a prototype that everyone told you would fail.
I supported you when you didn't have a corporate foundation, or a board of directors, or a fancy consultant who wears low-cut silk to charity galas.
I supported you, Reid. Not the billionaire. Not the legacy."
"Then act like it!" Reid roared.
His control finally snapped as he pulled the car into the long, gated driveway of our Medina estate. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, the sharp crack echoing in the enclosed space.
"Lately, every time I bring home a victory, you look at it like it’s a personal insult," he shot back, his chest heaving.
"You sit at these dinners like a martyr, holding a grudge because my time isn't entirely consumed by choosing paint swatches for the guest house.
I am running a multi-billion-dollar enterprise, Gwen.
I don't have the luxury of playing a grounded, quiet husband right now. "
He brought the car to a sudden, violent halt in the circular driveway.
The headlights cut through the dark, illuminating the massive, stark architectural lines of our concrete-and-glass home.
The house looked cold. It looked like an upscale gallery, empty of life, built to showcase success rather than harbor a marriage.
Reid turned in his seat, his eyes boring into mine with a harsh, unyielding intensity.
"I am sick of the jealousy. I am sick of the constant, unspoken accusations every time Victoria’s name comes up.
She is a consultant. A strictly platonic, high-level corporate asset who helps me execute my vision.
That is it. Your implication that there’s something else going on is insulting to me, it’s insulting to her, and frankly, it’s beneath you. "
"Beneath me?" I said, my voice shaking but devoid of tears now. The warmth had completely drained out of me, leaving me as cold and hollow as the house waiting for us. "You think my problem is just jealousy, Reid? You think I’m upset because she’s attractive?"
"Aren't you?" he challenged, his brow furrowing as if I were a puzzle he didn't have the patience to solve.
"No," I breathed, my fingers unlatching the car door. The interior light snapped on, bathing us both in a harsh, clinical white glare. "I’m upset because she talks to you like she owns the future we were supposed to build together. And you look at her like she’s right."
I pushed the door open, stepping out into the cold, steady Medina rain. I didn't wait for him to bypass the car, didn't look back to see if he was following me. I walked up the stone steps to the massive double doors of my home, the silk of my dress dampening against my skin.