by Ellie Danes
“Well, Mr. Cross, you decided not to separate the worlds,” he said. “You decided to bring it all together, into one big knotted mess.”
“No. I fell for a beautiful woman in a coffee shop. This had nothing to do with you or your shithead father.”
“Name calling isn’t going to change my mind, Ian,” he warned.
I laughed, mockingly. “You sound like you’re warning me, and you’re the idiot in my office.”
“What’s your answer?”
“You’re really going to do this?” I scoffed, with a hint of laughter underneath.
He didn’t say anything. He just stood there, arms crossed over his chest, and I could tell he was waiting on an answer.
The little fucker was trying to back me into a corner. There was no way that I was giving him an answer without talking to Kate.
I smirked and held the bridge of my nose, trying to wrap my head around what was going on. I wasn’t sure why I was so surprised. I dealt with backstabbing douchebags all day, every day. But I never would have thought Ben would have given me an ultimatum. If I hadn’t been so pissed off, I might have been impressed.
“Did Michael put you up to this?” I asked. “Of course he did.”
“My dad had nothing to do with this,” he said. “He only told me that you and Kate had been seeing each other, and that he wasn’t happy about it. So it was my idea to drop the lawsuit and let all of this go. So give me your answer.”
I couldn’t believe how Ben was behaving. This was completely opposite of the Ben I thought I’d known.
I couldn’t help but think about the impact the lawsuit had on me — my company — and what it had done to my dad.
He gave a short laugh and continued, “We have a lot on MTS, and I know this ‘means a lot to you’ because it meant a lot to your old man, to screw over BioResearch, but I’m really throwing you a bone by offering to let everything go.”
He was still talking, and talking about bones only made me want to beat him over the head with one, shove one down his throat, and feed him to a dog.
“It’s a bone that you didn’t want to throw to us, so you should be happy that I’m not the type to hold onto grudges.”
And there was that bone talk all over again. That little son of a bitch. He really thought he had the upper hand right now?
“You okay, Ian?” he asked. “You look a little tired.”
I didn’t answer. I knew he didn’t care how I felt, just as long as I stayed away from his sister. He was baiting me, trying to piss me off. He had to be. Because he was getting dangerously close to my face, and I was about to snap. I’d listened to him for his whole spiel and I wasn’t impressed.
“Are you sure Michael didn’t put you up to this shit?” I asked.
“I assure you, he did not.” His eyes flashed in annoyance. “So what’s your answer?”
I still couldn’t give him one. I needed to speak with Kate before anything else.
“No matter what you think,” he said, “even if you guys survive the long-distance — there’s always going to be family tension. Even if she isn’t part of the company,” he said, walking around me like a vulture circling dying prey.
I sniffed, trying to pretend like he wasn’t getting to me.
He said, “She’ll end up in the middle of all of this. And you know this world better than I do. People get hurt. She’s going to get hurt.”
He leaned into me once again, so close that I could smell his aftershave. I wanted to punch the scent right off his smug face. I stood up, quickly, balled my fists, but then he spoke — gently, in a small whisper.
“Do you want that, Ian?” he asked. “Do you want her to get hurt?”
I sat back down, slowly, my legs suddenly weak as adrenaline raced through my entire body. I was shaking like a fucking leaf. But I knew that he was right.
The internal conflict was painful. Business or happiness. Business or happiness. Because apparently I couldn’t have both. I cleared my throat and opened my mouth to speak. Only no words came out. I honestly didn’t even know what I was going to say until I said it. “Okay,” I managed. “Okay.”
Crossed Hearts
The Forbidden Love Series
Volume Three
(An Alpha Billionaire Romance)
By
Ellie Danes
www.EllieDanes.com
Chapter 1
Ian
It was evening, but not quite dark yet. The streetlights wouldn’t switch on for another couple of hours, which meant sunset was still a little while away. Even without the visual cues, I could tell by the dramatic drop in temperature that nighttime was approaching.
The wind was almost numbing, as it whipped around my body. It swept snow from the heavy banks on the curbside over the street in small powdered swifts.
I thought I would have developed an immunity of sorts to the bitterness of winter in New York City. But I hadn’t. It cut swiftly through me like a sheet of ice sharpened to a razor-sharp blade. I didn’t bother to bundle my wool overcoat closer. I didn’t bother to button it over my crisp Italian suit.
Hell, I didn’t even wrap my scarf around my neck. Instead, I let it drape across my shoulders and droop over my chest.
I deserved to be cold.
I knew it’d sound dramatic if I ever said it out loud, but I felt that I deserved every ounce of pain that could have possibly been thrown at me. In all reality, I wasn’t so sure I hadn’t made the decision to walk home, despite how cold it was, just to punish myself.
I even deserved the way thoughts of her kept nagging and tearing away at me.
She was haunting me, and rightfully so.
What was killing me, though, was the longer I stayed away from her, the more intensely thoughts of her flooded my mind. Thoughts that reminded me what kind of complete ass I really was.
After more than two weeks, I still couldn’t shake the memories of that passionate night, the way it felt to hold her close, and I certainly couldn’t forget the feeling of her lips against mine.
But all of that was before.
Before I fucked it all up.
Before I basically sold my soul to the Devil. That is, if the Devil’s name was Ben Murphy.
I took the deal he’d laid out for me; the deal that meant BioResearch would agree — alongside MTS — that the lawsuit would come to a close. I took the deal that would inevitably save my dirty, rotten late-father’s name, and my own for that matter.
I took the deal.
And I still wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do or not, but I knew that, regardless, the way I handled it was shitty. And even if it was the right thing to do from a business point of view, I didn’t feel like it was right for me.
I also didn’t feel that living in that apartment building, living where I knew she was still living, was a good idea. Yet, there I was. Still there.
All I could do was try to keep my distance from her. Which included, even longer hours at work than I’d already had jam-packed in my week’s schedule, and I guess the worst — and probably most pathetic part — included stalking around the building like a thief casing the joint; peeking through the glass doors and windows every time I got home.
Anything, and everything to make sure I didn’t run into her.
Admittedly, this involved watching her from afar, when I did actually catch sight of her, and then creeping away in the shadows like a fucking scared weirdo. But I feel like anyone would have lost their nerve to face someone like Kate if they’d done what I had done.
I still couldn’t even believe how I’d ended it. It was even worse than the fact that I had ended it.
I’d sent her a text message.
A goddamned text message for Christ’s sake!
And what was more, ever since I had hit that send button, I knew that I’d made the biggest mistake of my life — and I knew mistakes. I’d made a lot of them. I even knew it was a mistake when Ben actually held his end of the deal. When we all actua
lly started the process of dropping the lawsuit. Because that’s when I realized what I’d traded the only thing to make me smile in ages for.
A clean name.
Which is exactly what it boiled down to. At least, that is, after BioResearch proved that my dad was a huge liar.
As much as I didn’t want that to happen, I didn’t want to lose Kate more.
MTS was always his dream, and although I loved it for him — and I appreciated my job very much, Kate was my dream.
But it was too late.
Even if she might have forgiven me for being a huge dick and breaking up with her via text message, the deal was already done, and she probably knew about it by now.
She was gone. She had to be. Something told me that Kate wouldn’t be so easy to forgive a ball-less excuse of an ex-boyfriend. Hell, I wouldn’t blame her.
That wasn’t the type of guy she’d signed up to be with.
Ian Cross wasn’t usually ball-less. Ian Cross — at least the man I thought I was — was confident, powerful; he was a goddamn nightmare to fuck with.
Yet, I feel like I’d tucked my tail between my legs and cowered away to the likes of Ben Murphy. Junior-fucking-Murphy!
And what was worse was that I was stalking around my own apartment building like a creep, peeking into windows, every single night.
I wasn’t even sure who I was anymore.
All I was sure was about, was that I wished more than anything that I would have had the sense to realize everything before I’d actually pulled the trigger.
I would have happily gone through with the rest of the lawsuit, and risked everything — including tarnishing my old man’s name, and my own for that matter — if it meant still being with her.
But now I knew there was no hope for us. I was too cold to her; and beyond that, I hadn’t fought for her.
I hadn’t even gotten a response from it. Not a confused one. Not a heartbroken one. Not an angry one.
Nothing.
Not that I could blame her for not responding. I didn’t deserve a response.
Each stride brought me closer to my apartment building, teeth chattering together as I walked slowly, shivering more and more withe every step. My eyes had watered almost the entire way. It was a damned miracle they weren’t frozen solid.
The lobby glowed vibrantly against the contrast of the approaching night. In perfect criminal form, I began to cautiously move closer and closer to the front door of the lobby, pivoting my head slowly back and forth, holding my breath as I walked.
It was as if I expected her to have sonic-super-power-hearing or something to a point that she could hear me approaching from the outside. I was being that fucking weird.
As I reached the corner of the building, I made efforts to stay as close to the wall as possible — just like I had every day since I’d sent that text message — just in case she was in the lobby. I had to be able to get away from the door quickly if she happened to spot me.
And as stupid as it sounded, for a minute, I almost felt almost like a spy. Which, I was sure I was just telling myself because it sounded a whole hell of a lot better than “douchebag who was avoiding his ex-girlfriend because he’d done her wrong.”
I moved alongside the wall of the building until I reached the corner near the lobby entrance, and glanced slowly around the edge of the building and through the front lobby door to look for any signs of her. As I scanned the lobby, a large banging noise rang out from behind me.
I turned quickly, wondering what the hell it was. What I saw was a dark, masculine figure emerging from the alleyway. The dimming of the light of the day, mixed with the shadow of the alley and the good fifteen-feet of distance between us, made the man almost impossible to make out. He moved closer but all I could see was a scarf wrapped around his. His steps were determined and quick. At first, I thought he was just running toward my building, maybe late to meet up with someone. But then, I realized he was approaching me.
I was almost ready to swing at the man, until he’d brought a hand to his scarf to unwrap it from around his face.
“Mr. Cross?” the man asked sounding surprised before a smile broadened over the familiar face of the young valet.
“Thank, God.” I sighed. “I thought you were about to murder me.”
“And I thought you were about to bomb the building or something,” he laughed. “I just saw you from the back, lurking against the wall, looking into the building suspiciously.”
I smirked. I probably did look like I was up to no good.
“What were you doing?” he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.
“N-nothing…” I stammered, not really sure how to answer.
“Here, he said,” moving to the lobby door and grabbing at the long golden handle bolted to the glass. “Allow me, Sir.”
He pulled the door open, and gestured for me to walk in. I smirked, not wanting to protest. Not wanting to say that I hadn’t quite finished casing the place yet. “Have a good evening,” he smiled, his young, juvenile, face shining more brightly than I’d ever seen it.
His cheeks held dimples, and his smile made him look like he couldn’t have been older than fifteen years old. Although I knew he had to be. He was a valet, after all.
I flashed a half-smile at him and powered through the door, scanning the lobby as I strode toward the elevator. In my mind, I knew once I was inside that little box and the doors closed behind me, I’d be home free.
But, karma was a bitch, after all.
Just when I thought I was in the clear, the elevator doors slid open and my eyes fell on a sight that nearly stopped my heart completely.
“Kate…” I whispered, before I could even stop myself. I halted dead still and stared straight at the familiar form revealed by the elevator doors as they opened. I couldn’t help but wonder if it really was her for a second, but when she looked up and her gorgeous figure stepped out into the lobby it was unmistakable. That striking red hair, those beautiful eyes. It was her. No doubt about it. She was like a fucking ghost from my past sent to haunt me.
Chapter 2
Kate
My stomach dropped, my feet refused to move forward, and my heart tightened in my chest — all in one single instant. Just as I thought my heart was going to cease beating all together, it began racing and pounding, trying to fight its way to freedom. For a moment, I thought I was seeing things again. The same ghost I’d seen a dozen times in a matter of two weeks. The ghost of the man I’d been angry at for all of that time.
Ian.
Fucking Ian.
Angry because not only was he a coward, but also because he’d broken my heart. Completely.
I shuddered at the thought of his last touch. His last words.
I crossed my arms over my chest almost defensively as if trying to protect myself from any thoughts of him invading my mind. I had been trying to move on. But the wound still felt as fresh as it had the first day my heart had been ripped open, and seeing him was like someone had just poured a bucket of salt in the wound.
I looked down, hoping to avoid eye contact. I needed time to collect myself. I wanted it to be impossible that he was standing in front of me. I wanted my mind to be playing tricks on me. I wasn’t sure what that said about me — or this fucked up situation — but I knew it probably wasn’t anything good.
What I really wanted was to already be on the other side of the country, as far away from Ian Cross and this bad memory as possible. Soon, I would be. I’d be doing my own thing, doing what I loved. And I would be better off not being attached.
I took a slow, deep breath and steeled myself. “Hello,” I said, breaking the silence, trying to simmer the boiling anger inside of me as I looked him squarely in the face.
I’d hoped that we could have gone longer without running into each other. In fact, I’d wished I could have made it to the other side of the country without seeing him.
I struggled to hold back the tears sparkling in the corners of my eyes. I d
idn’t want to give myself away. I didn’t want to show that I was upset; that I still cared. He looked surprised when I spoke to him.
“Hello,” he responded quietly. An edge of pain tinged in his voice. It was a sound I recognized because it matched exactly what I’d been going through for the past couple of weeks.
I’d have been lying if I said it didn’t give me a touch of satisfaction. It did. I was extremely satisfied. And angry. Very angry. Not to mention a touch on the spiteful side. So, in the name of spite, I decided to pour a little salt in the wound by being as nonchalant as possible.
“How have you been?” I asked in the friendliest voice I could muster.
I could see that he was thrown by my pleasantness. He looked even more shattered than before, and when the question was over he looked almost completely devastated. In fact, it took him a good ten seconds of his mouth opening and closing before he managed a simple, “I’m okay…Yourself?” he gulped, his eyes settling on mine finally.
A rush of that feeling I always got when our eyes met flooded through me. And I hated it. I wanted to be done. Be over it. I wanted to feel nothing for this man. But I couldn’t. All I could do was get the hell away from him as quickly as possible. “I’m good. But sorry, I can’t really talk right now…” I said, as I rushed forward, forcing myself to ignore the clutching feeling of my heart as I walked closer to him. “I have plans with someone, and I’m already late.” I’d sounded legitimate until the last word. By that last word, I was basically brushing shoulders with him, and I faltered. I’d finally betrayed my true emotions.
But I couldn’t stop. I had to keep going. I had to pretend like I hadn’t. So I took a deep breath, straightened myself up, cleared my throat, and walked straight for the door. I’d even tried to force a faint smile to seal it even better, although part of me felt guilty…
Chapter 3
Ian
I’d been dreading running into her since I’d broken up with her. That wasn’t a secret. The thing I didn’t know was how bad it really would feel. Especially because I hadn’t really known how she’d felt about it all — since she never replied to me.
