CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
BENNET
"Don't cry, baby." Blaire says, wiping yet another stream of tears from my face.
I bury myself in the curve of her neck and hold her, probably a little too tight. "I'm so fucking proud of you."
"For the first time in my life," she says quietly, "I'm proud of myself too."
It's been impossible to stay away from the footage. I tried. I avoided it as long as I could, but clips started trickling into my timeline everywhere I looked, and eventually I stopped running from it.
I thought I had an idea of what she went through. I didn't. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.
He. Beat. Her.
Some clips showed him dragging her by the hair; some showed his fists connecting with her face over and over again.
The one that made me want to hire a hit man was him beating her until she practically looked lifeless.
If she weren’t in my bed sleeping, I would have thought she was dead.
He left her bleeding and unconscious on the floor for eighteen hours.
Eighteen fucking hours. He walked by her periodically, pushed her with his foot, slapped her around to check if she'd wake up, and walked away again.
I vomited after that and stayed away from anything social media for a while.
Hours after the footage was released, Colt was arrested, and he’s been denied bond due to being a flight risk. The judge called him a monster that didn't deserve to see sunlight again, and I found myself agreeing with every word.
Blaire got her settlement. That part I did have a small hand in. If she ever asks, I'll tell her the truth. But for now, she just thinks Colt had a change of heart.
Not that I flew to Houston on business, found him at his country club, and had a very direct private conversation with a blade to his neck that left him with a clear understanding of exactly what his new terms were going to be — terms considerably more generous to Blaire than what she'd originally asked for.
When her attorney called with the news, Blaire was shocked.
I wasn't.
He's lucky the conversation ended where it did. I wanted to do considerably more.
But he's where he needs to be now. Waiting for a prison sentence.
"Can I take you home now? I really need to be inside you." I growl against her skin and pull her close, so she feels exactly how proud I am of her. My pride is pressing hard against her stomach.
"Fuck, Bennet, don't get me aroused in front of people." She whispers it with a soft moan at the back of her throat that I feel everywhere.
"Carebear."
The voice is soft and uncertain; Blaire's body tenses immediately against mine. She turns slowly.
Her parents are standing a few feet away; her mother's hand pressed to her chest, her father looking like a man who has spent the last twenty-four hours being dismantled by footage he can't unsee. Both of them with tears still fresh on their faces.
I take Blaire's hand. It's trembling.
"Hi" her voice is more controlled than mine would be if I needed to speak with them right now. "What are you doing here?"
"We didn't know, Blaire." Her mother's voice breaks on it. "We had no idea. We swear to you, we had no idea."
Bullshit. She told them. Repeatedly.
Blaire doesn't say a word, and I can feel the anger radiating from her. She turns on her heel and starts walking. "Conference room," she calls back without looking.
They follow us in silence. I keep her hand in mine the entire way.
Once the conference room doors close behind her parents, I move to the corner. I won't leave her alone with them, but I'll give her the space she needs. This is hers to handle.
"Blaire." Her father starts.
"Let me stop you right there, Daddy." She says it firmly, and I smirk at the most wildly inopportune moment because daddy.
Shut up, idiot.
"I'll say this once. Then I want you to turn around, leave this building, and never contact me again.
" She holds both their gazes without flinching.
"You knew. I told you both on more than one occasion what Colt was doing to me.
The last conversation we had, you told me what a good man he was.
That you raised me better than this. That I needed to come home and fix my marriage. "
Her mother opens her mouth.
Blaire doesn't stop.
"Now the well has run dry. No more Colt money.
No more high-paying job. And you expect me to believe you're suddenly here for me?
That you suddenly believe me?" Her voice stays even, and it costs her something to keep it there; I can see that from across the room.
"You saw the bruises. You saw me in the hospital every time he put me there.
You didn't try to save me. You used my marriage to continue living a privileged life.
And now that I have his millions, you're at my doorstep. "
She takes one step back toward the door.
"Fuck off back to Houston. I'm not a teenager who needs you to love me and choose me anymore. I want nothing to do with either of you."
They don't move. Don't say anything. Just stand there with the silent pleading of people hoping she'll change her mind if they wait long enough.
Blaire scoffs. Walks to the conference table and dials out without missing a beat. "Claudia, I have a security issue. Can you please send Russo to conference room three?"
I am going to marry that woman. I shift my stance so my hardening cock can get a bit more comfortable.
"Fine. Fine, you've always been a selfish—"
“Whoa...that’s enough. Walk away right the fuck now, or you’ll be dealing with me instead of security.” I step forward and unbutton my jacket, remove it, and place it across the nearest chair.
I won't hit a woman. But I will absolutely lay her father out with the flick of my wrist if he says one more word, and I need him to understand that clearly.
Security walks in before anyone can say anything else, and her parents are quietly, efficiently escorted out. I walk behind them and lock the conference room door.
"Are you okay?" I ask, unable to fully hide the lust in my voice.
"Why'd you lock the door?" She asks, with a smirk that tells me she already knows.
"Are you okay, Blaire?" I repeat.
She nods.
"Good." I hold her gaze. "Panties off. Palms on the conference table. I need to feel that tight pussy wrapped around my cock, and I can't wait until we get upstairs."
"Uhm."
Blaire’s eyes go wide as Claudia’s voice fills the conference room.
"Mr. Sullivan. The comms are still connected."
Blaire's hand flies to her mouth. She lunges across the table and hits the intercom button.
"Bennet! Oh my god, I cannot leave this room."
"Oh, you'll leave it, alright." I cross toward her. "With my cum dripping down your legs when you do."
"Still connected, sir."