Revenge
Page 27
Now wasn’t the time to tell him what I’d already done. I couldn’t even think about it myself.
Edward was silent. I could feel his eyes on my back as I dropped the handful of panties in the suitcase then reached for my shoes.
“You’re packing,” he said, after a beat. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to New York. My parents are going to wake up to a scandal. I should be there.” I didn’t look at him, set more than ever on what I was doing.
“I’d feel better if you were here or Amelie. Because of the scandal. You don’t need to be wrapped up in this, and you will be if you’re with your father.”
I slammed my pajama drawer shut, feeling a flicker of satisfaction when it banged. “What I need is to not be told what to do for half a minute. What if what I need is to be away from you?”
“Are you leaving me?” The question came out deep and provoking. Daring me to say that I was.
I didn’t want to answer. It wasn’t my intention to leave him, but I certainly wanted him to think it was a possibility. I wanted him to be scared that I could. I wanted him to have consequences that would mean something. I wanted him to have to fight—wanted him to want to fight—wanted him to want to change in order to keep me.
The truth wouldn’t push him to that.
“I’m leaving this house,” I said, trying to talk my way around it. I pulled two more dresses off hangers and tossed them in my bag. “And I’m leaving without you, so I suppose I am.”
“You know that’s not what I was asking. You aren’t leaving me, Celia.” His declaration came out as a growl. “I won’t allow that. Especially not over this.”
His possessiveness usually made me melt.
Not this time. “Well, I’m not staying. And if you try to keep me hostage again, I can tell you sure as shit that that will be the end of us.” I zipped up the suitcase. I didn’t have everything I needed, but I was making a statement. Anything I’d missed, I could buy in the States.
I could feel Edward’s brain calculating as I grabbed a jacket and slipped on a pair of shoes. I was calculating as well. It was best to leave now and not give him time to find ways to keep me. I didn’t have a ticket yet, but I could buy the next flight out at the airport. If he didn’t let me have a car, I could call a cab.
When I went to lift the suitcase off the luggage rack, Edward was suddenly there, taking it from me. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said, his tone even. “Perhaps facing this with your parents will be good for you. But you will come home to me.”
I took in a shaky breath and wrenched the suitcase away from him. I was too upset, too pissed, too determined to let him do anything for me at the moment.
When I had it in my hand again, I felt emboldened. “We’ll have to see how that goes, won’t we?”
Then I spun my back to my husband and marched out of the closet, leaving him, not forever, but for now.
Twenty-Four
Edward
The doorman hung up the phone and handed my passport back to me. “You’re cleared to go up, Mr. Fasbender. Second elevator. Top floor.”
I had held my breath while he’d called up to the Werner penthouse, half afraid I’d be turned away. After four weeks of nothing more than curt texts from my wife, I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome at her parents’. Especially showing up unannounced and uninvited.
If Celia would have answered any one of the fifty-plus calls I’d made over the past month, she would have known I was coming. Though, if she’d answered, I wouldn’t have had to make the trip at all because I would have demanded she return home. A month apart was far too long to be away from her. God only knew how I’d managed longer absences when she’d been on Amelie.
I was honest enough with myself to realize that I’d been in control of our time apart back then, and that having the power made it easier to endure. The realization only made these last few weeks harder to bear, knowing I was most likely alone in my misery, and that Celia had probably faired the month better than I had.
All that would be behind us soon enough, though I was fully aware I could still be turned away at the door.
I was alone in the elevator. Once it was in motion, I turned to the mirror that lined the back of the car, surveyed my image, and frowned. I looked tired, like a man who had spent the last week in a plane rather than a handful of hours. My outfit was fresh, since I’d changed my clothes when I’d stopped by my hotel, but now I wished I’d chosen something more impressive than a T-shirt and jeans.
I sighed, and shoved a hand through my hair in a fruitless attempt to improve my appearance. When the car stopped, I looked no better than when I’d gotten in, but I took a deep breath to straighten my posture and took the few steps to the Werners’ door with confidence.
My knock was answered by an apple-shaped woman dressed in clothes that suggested she was staff, but Madge was just behind her.
“It really is you, Edward,” she said, blinking. “I couldn’t believe it when the doorman gave me your name.” She turned to the other woman. “Lupita, this is Celia’s husband, all the way from London. Can you put on some coffee? Better yet, brew some tea.”
I nodded in appreciation for the gesture, despite not having any interest in any type of beverage at the moment. Frankly, I was grateful for the hospitality simply because it meant I hadn’t been banned from the family.
Lupita and I exchanged greetings, then, as she went off to her assigned task, Madge ushered me into the living room. “I apologize for the unprepared welcome. We should have had you on the door list. Celia didn’t say anything about you coming.”
My mother-in-law, though not overly warm in countenance, was much more congenial than the last time I’d seen her on my wedding day. The phone calls I had made to her while Celia had been on Amelie seemed to have earned her trust. That hadn’t been my primary intention at the time, but it was a definite benefit.
“Celia didn’t know I was coming, actually,” I said, when she finally let me get a word in. “It’s sort of a surprise visit.” Having no idea what my wife had told her family about her stay or the state of our marriage, I decided the best move was to act as though everything was normal, avoiding the fact that I hadn’t really spoken to her since she’d come to the States.
“How fun. I can’t remember the last time Warren did something romantic. I keep telling Celia she snagged a good one. She best be treating you right.” Her tone said she was fishing. Either she suspected a rift in our relationship or she just loved any sort of gossip, both seemed likely possibilities.
Whichever it was, I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of confirming anything. “I’m certainly lucky to have found her. Is she here?”
“Oh, yes. Lupita?” She caught the attention of the servant as Lupita set a tea tray on the sideboard. “Could you please tell Celia that Edward is here?”
“My pleasure.”
I almost asked if I could just tag along, but I didn’t get the chance.
“Edward Fasbender. In my own home. Who would have thought?” Warren Werner entered the room as Lupita left, his expression as smug as mine had likely been when he’d last been a guest at my house.
I bit back a grimace. “Warren. I hadn’t expected to see you home this early in the day.” I’d specifically chosen to come on a weekday, hoping my father-in-law would be at the office, not that he spent much time there in the last few years. Rumor was that he was running the company on a fifteen-hour work week. What I could do with that company…
The potential was endless.
“Been a bit chaotic at work. Get more done at home these days.”
I hadn’t failed to notice the reporters as I’d come in the building. I’d had my fair share in London as well. They’d been quite an annoyance back home, but I smiled when I encountered them today, knowing I had a hand in the irritation they must cause Warren.
“I am sorry to hear about your family troubles,” I said, attempting sympathy that I hoped read sincere.
&
nbsp; “It’s been one helluva debacle, I’ll tell you that. I got him a good lawyer. But if it turns out he’s really done these things, there’s nothing I’ll be able to do to help him.”
I wanted to punch the arsehole.
He was still trying to live in the dark. Had Celia even tried to talk to him again about her own history with Ron?
“It really is a surprise,” Madge said, laying it on thick. “We had no idea. Celia used to be close to him when she was little. Never any problems at all.”
I knew about the psychology of denial, but never had I seen it so blatantly displayed. I was angered by it, naturally, but some of that anger was directed at myself. I should have thought about what this environment might be like for Celia when she was very likely struggling with her emotions as Ron’s crimes were shared all over the media. I should have been there for her. I should have come sooner.
I shouldn’t have let her leave London in the first place. Not that she’d given me any choice in the matter.
“I’m sure it’s been a difficult time for all of you,” I said, resisting the urge to open their eyes to Celia’s past horrors. She needed to be the one to talk to them, for her own healing.
“Excuse me,” Lupita said, returning to the room. “Celia seems to be napping. Shall I wake her?”
Napping? My wife rarely slept during the day. “She’s not unwell, is she?”
Madge made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “No, no. This whole nonsense has been exhausting is all. I think she’s had trouble sleeping from it.”
Again I kicked myself for having let her be away so long. Though, a small part of me hoped her lack of sleep might mean she’d been as miserable without me as I’d been without her.
Regardless of the cause, I couldn’t disturb her, much as I was desperate to see her. I was just about to tell Lupita not to wake her when Warren answered for me.
“Let her sleep. Gives us time to talk.”
Fanfuckingtastic.
“Should we go to my office?”
“I’m comfortable right here,” I said. “Lupita’s just served tea.” As little interest I had in being caught in a conversation right now, I had even less interest in discussing business with Warren seated behind his desk. He already held dominion just by being on his turf.
“We can stay here then,” he said, disappointment evident in his tone.
The women took that as a cue to disappear, leaving us alone.
Immediately, Warren headed to the minibar. “Can I make you a drink?”
I looked at my watch. It wasn’t even two in the afternoon. “A tad early for me, I’m afraid.” It was probably best to have a clear head around my former nemesis.
“Yes, I suppose it is,” he said. He looked longingly at the tumbler in his hand then set it down. “I guess I don’t need one either. Have a seat, will you?”
Another opportunity to hand over power that I refused to cede. “I’d rather stand, if you don’t mind. Long flight and all.”
“Right, right.” He glanced at his armchair, considering. In the end, he stayed standing as well. “I imagine you’re pleased with how our joint efforts are panning out in India. I’m quite pleased as well. I’m eager to see what else we can put together. Be a good chance to brainstorm face to face while you’re here.
“Oh, and I know all this hullabaloo with my brother has put a damper on our stock prices, but they’ll bounce back. I assure you. Ron hasn’t worked with Werner in quite some years. We’ll rise above his misdeeds, no problem.”
I might have been impressed how he could be so laser focused on business despite his family turmoil if I weren’t so disgusted with the way he spoke about his brother’s sins. As though he’d simply been caught going a few miles over the speed limit. As if his crimes were only menial sins.
He defiled your daughter, I said to him silently as he spouted out potential ideas for future collaboration. He violated her and assaulted her, and you don’t have the balls to confront it.
He was a coward and an opportunist and deserved to pay for those flaws. I’d hoped his brother’s arrest would bring him sufficient turmoil, but seeing how minimally it had affected him, he would need to pay retribution in other ways.
Giving me control of his company would do just fine.
“I have another thought,” I said, interrupting whatever he was saying—I hadn’t been listening. “Instead of spending our time and energy on a trivial joint venture that ends up being quite meaningless in the big picture, why don’t we do something that will have a significant positive effect on both our companies.”
He frowned in annoyance, probably because he’d been quite proud of whatever idea he’d been presenting, but he took the bait. “You have something in mind?”
“I do. We should merge.”
He visibly drew back. “You can’t be serious.” He studied me, looking for signs of my sincerity. Apparently finding it, he let out an affronted laugh. “Oh, hell no. You’re family now, but you think that makes up for all the obstacles you put up for me in the past? It doesn’t.”
I smiled, imagining exactly how this would play out, which move I’d make, which move he’d counter with. I could see all the way to checkmate, and fuck if that wasn’t thrilling.
“We’ve both done a quite many misdeeds in our rivalry,” I said, using his word from earlier. “And yes, I do believe that should all be water under the bridge. Because we’re family.”
“That’s a lot of nerve you got. This the real reason you married my daughter?”
“It is not.” Eh, it was mostly true. “I love your daughter very much. Speaking of Celia, it’s really her decision what happens next at Werner, isn’t it? It’s because of my respect for you that I’m going this route instead.”
My wife had been right in her accusations—I was manipulative. Maybe even more so than any other man in her life. Warren still believed the majority shares were in the family, that Celia had them in her name, and, though she’d signed over her voting power to him, that she had the potential to override any of his decisions if she took her vote back.
I was fully committed to exploiting that fact.
His face blanched, then he scowled. “Those shares aren’t really hers. If I had to take it to court, I’d win.”
I wasn’t so sure of that. “No need to bring up talk of lawsuits. Celia has no plans to take advantage of those shares you gifted her, and neither am I planning to encourage it. If you took that as a threat, it’s not what I intended.”
No, it was exactly what I’d intended.
“I was merely reminding you the reasons you signed over those shares to Celia. Because you wanted to provide for your only child. Because you wanted the Werner legacy to remain in the family.”
“Of course that’s why I gave them to her,” he said.
Which was an utter lie. He’d had thoughts of tax evasion in his mind when he’d done it, and nothing else, but I was purposefully playing to his sense of fatherly duty.
“You mentioned the current state of your stocks. I’m sure, as you said, they will recover, but what if they don’t? Merging with a company that has a considerable share of markets Werner has no access to would give a meaningful boost to the bottom line. Not only will your stocks go up again, they’ll skyrocket. Isn’t that the legacy you want to leave your daughter?”
Warren glowered at me in silence. He was caught and he knew it. Zugzwang. Warren wasn’t ready to trust me with his company, but it was the right move. Not only for his company, but for his daughter. To prove he cared about her. He’d failed her so completely in other ways. This was his chance to show she was his priority.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Lupita said.
I waited until Warren’s gaze moved to her before I moved mine. “What is it?” he snapped.
“Celia’s awake now. I told her you were here, Mr. Fasbender, and she asked that you meet her in the conservatory. I can take you there when you’re ready.”
“Splendid. I’m ready
now.” I patted Warren on the arm, patronizing him purposefully. “No rush to decide right this minute. Sooner the better, though, probably, considering how far Werner has dropped. Thirteen points just today, wasn’t it? Yikes.”
Before he could say anything else I turned back to Lupita. “Where’s the conservatory?”
It was tempting to feel self-righteous as I followed the servant down the hall. Warren would concede eventually. Unfortunately his motives were most definitely his own pocketbook and egotistical desire to have his company thrive, but he’d say it was for Celia, and that would mean something to her despite the lie.
Werner Media completely vanished from my mind, though, the minute I was out of Warren’s sight. Celia was the only thing I was thinking about now. How close she was, how soon she’d be back in my arms.
My whole being vibrated in anticipation.
“Through there,” Lupita said when we reached a set of open double doors.
I nodded appreciatively then stepped over the threshold, halting as soon as I did. Because there she was, standing at the window, looking out over Central Park, her hair tied in a messy knot, her skin pink from too much sun, her lips gripped in a straight line.
God, she was magnificent.
I could hardly breathe in the splendor of her presence.
She must have sensed my stare. I hadn’t moved or made a sound when she turned and caught me looking at her.
Her eyes lit up—or I imagined they had, because I very much wished that she’d be excited to see me—and her chin quivered, as though she were about to speak, but she remained silent.
She remained on the opposite side of the room, as well, which was disheartening when I wanted so badly to touch her.
For that matter, I was still standing at the door. There was a chasm between us, wide and yawning, and I knew I had to be the one to find a way across.
But I was stubborn too. Stubborn in my belief that I knew what was best for her, and as much as I wanted us reunited, it couldn’t be by surrendering my side of this fight.