by Iris Morland
Anthony’s mouth was dry, his heart pounding erratically. How many people had betrayed him? He couldn’t wrap his head around everything being thrown in his face. “At least I didn’t cheat on my husband,” he growled.
“No, but you’ve humiliated me since that day. You never loved me, Tony. You loved your company more than you ever loved me. And this is the best revenge, because now everything you’ve worked for is being destroyed. The one thing you ever really loved—which wasn’t me.” She laughed, but it was a hollow laugh. “How does it feel? Because I can tell you exactly what it feels like to love someone who’ll never give a shit about you.”
Anthony moved so he loomed over Elise. In a voice as quiet as it was deadly, he whispered, “Get out of my sight. If I ever see you on these premises again, I’ll throw you out myself. If I never truly loved you, Elise, it’s because you’re a heartless, conniving bitch. Now get out.”
Elise paled. She opened her mouth to reply, but seeing the threat in his gaze, she backed down. Slinking out of his office like a kicked puppy, she grabbed the magazine and slammed Anthony’s office door behind her.
Anthony didn’t react. He went to his office window, gazing at nothing, feeling his entire world crumble to ashes.
There was a reason why he was a heartless bastard. Hearts only existed for other people to destroy. It hadn’t been Elise who’d taught him that—she’d just been the introduction. Thea, though, she’d been beyond brilliant. She’d used him like a puppeteer. He could almost admire her for it if he didn’t hate her so much.
Ironic, that the person who’d ended up betraying him again wasn’t Elise. It had been the one person he’d thought would never do that.
He didn’t move from that spot at his window until someone knocked on the door. Almost expecting Elise again, he was about to yell at her to get out.
But it wasn’t Elise. It was Thea herself.
21
Thea took one look at Anthony’s face and knew that she was too late. His lip curled, and when she took a step forward into his office, he said in a scathing tone, “Get the fuck out of my office.”
“Please, let me explain. You don’t know the full story. It wasn’t me—”
“Really? I have proof that you’re lying. But you’ve been lying to me this entire time, haven’t you?”
Someone coughed behind Thea. Turning, she saw a young woman who must be Anthony’s assistant.
“Should I call security?” the woman asked quietly. She shot Thea a wary glance, like she wasn’t sure Thea wouldn’t attack her.
Anthony didn’t answer for a moment, and Thea expected the worst. Finally he said, “You can go, Cara. I’ll take care of this.”
Cara shut the door behind Thea, and Thea couldn’t help but feel like she’d entered into a prison. Where had the playful, affectionate Anthony gone? Right now, she barely recognized the man standing in front of her. The mask he wore was in plain sight, and if he’d ever loved her—or even liked her—apparently it had already disappeared in an instant.
“Let me explain,” Thea said again, more firmly this time. “You don’t know everything.”
“I would imagine I don’t.” His tone was sarcastic, and Thea flinched. He gestured at one of the chairs in front of his desk, a heavily ironic gesture. “Sit. You should at least be comfortable for this.”
She didn’t want to sit, because she was fairly certain Anthony was planning to wring her neck. But when he made a move toward her, she hurried toward the chair and sat herself down before he could carry her there.
He sat down across from her, like they were in some formal business meeting. It was so ridiculous that Thea bit back hysterical laughter. Why was she even trying? Anthony would never listen. He’d already made his judgment about her, hadn’t he?
Thea refused to cower before him, though, because she hadn’t leaked that story. Mittens had.
“It wasn’t me who told the press,” she said.
Anthony raised an eyebrow, darkly amused now. “If you’re going to lie, you should at least come up with an interesting story.”
“I’m not lying! It was an accident. I got drunk, and apparently I told one of my friends your secret.” She grimaced, her cheeks heating. “I didn’t remember doing it until this morning. It was stupid and childish of me. I feel awful about it. But I wasn’t the one who sold the story: my friend did.”
“Is your friend named Milton Haverford III?”
Thea blinked in surprise. “How did you know who he was?”
“It’s funny,” he said, ignoring her question as he rose from his chair to circle around her. He stood behind her now, like a predator circling his prey. “I didn’t think you’d sell my secret to the press. You don’t seem the type. You see, I wanted to believe that you were innocent.”
He set his hands on the sides of the chair only inches from her neck. Thea swallowed hard.
“I wanted to believe it,” he continued, “but imagine my surprise when I got to read a second email detailing how far this little farce of yours has gone. It started months ago. You and your little activist friends thought you’d topple what I built. You were behind that campaign, weren’t you?”
Thea couldn’t breathe. The speech she’d prepared in her mind when she’d driven over here dissipated like smoke in the wind. Anthony’s hands inched closer until they lay on her shoulders, heavy as iron. His fingers dug into the tendons there—not enough to hurt, but enough to immobilize her completely.
“You and your friends were very clever, getting you close to me. How did you manage the cabin? That was a particularly brilliant bit of planning. Although how you could’ve predicted the bridge collapsing, I’m not sure.”
“No, it’s not like that.” She turned her head, but he squeezed her shoulders until she winced.
“I wonder how stupid you think I am?” He sounded like he was asking himself the question. “Although to be fair, you played your role magnificently. Did you get a bonus for sleeping with me?”
Thea gasped. Wrenching herself out of the chair and out of his grip, she faced him. “How dare you,” she hissed. “You’re making assumptions when you don’t know all that happened!”
“I’m connecting the dots.” He raked her from head to toe, disgust dripping from his expression. “I was totally convinced that you were attracted to me, that you wanted to save the animals. That you were innocent and good-hearted. But we both know that was a sham. Just be honest for once, Thea. I’m not interested in whatever lies you’ve concocted to cover for yourself. The jig is up.”
“Will you just shut up? Will you listen for once in your damn life?” With each word, her voice rose. “You think everyone is out to get you, when maybe some people are actually just people who make mistakes. Did you ever consider that?”
He crossed his arms. “Fine. I’m listening.”
Oh God, how could she convince him that she was both innocent and guilty? Swallowing the lump in her throat, she told herself that she could only do her best. If Anthony refused to believe her either way? That was his choice.
It didn’t make her feel any better, though.
“I was a part of that social media campaign. It was my idea in the first place.”
He sneered, turning away from her before she’d even begun explaining.
“I’m not done yet,” she said, louder. His attention returned to her, finally. “I was a part of it, yes. I thought I was doing the right thing. Your company, this huge corporation with all of this money at its disposal, was and is torturing animals for profit. It’s wrong, and I stand by that. Since you weren’t willing to change, we had to do something that was underhanded. But it went viral for a reason, because people agreed with us. They saw the truth of what you’re actually doing. Don’t you think that’s a real reason to make changes?”
Anthony went to sit on the edge of his desk, his arms still crossed over his chest. “If I made changes every time people on social media threw a damn fit, I would never get anything don
e. So you were behind this, knew who I was the entire time, and said nothing? How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”
“Because I didn’t realize I’d end up lov—” She cut herself off just in time. She couldn’t tell him that she loved him. He’d only think she was using that to manipulate him. “I didn’t realize I’d end up liking you. That you weren’t the monster I thought you were. Our time in that cabin changed everything. Don’t you see that?”
“If it really changed your opinion, then you would’ve told me the truth. Dammit, Thea!” He pushed his fingers through his hair, disheveling it. “I thought you were different. That you cared about me because of the man I am, not my money, not my company. Me. But it was all a lie from the beginning.”
“It wasn’t a lie!”
“So you deny changing things so you’d be at the cabin with me?”
“Of course I deny it! I don’t have money to throw around to make people do things like that for me. And how do you expect I’d know you were going to be there? Do I look like I hack computers?” She splayed her hands open, trying to make him see sense. “You’re looking for conspiracy theories where there are none.”
“No, I’m seeing where everything makes sense now. I see where I went wrong. I thought I’d learned my lesson, but apparently not. You’re no different from anyone else.”
“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “I’m sorry for that campaign. I’m sorry for lying. I’m sorry I ever let myself get involved with you in the first place. It was wrong and unfair.” Thea drew herself up, refusing to cower in front of him. “But you expected the worst from the beginning. You think that people are inherently bad, that they’ll only use you—”
“That’s because they always do.”
“They don’t, though. That’s where you’re wrong. I was afraid to tell you because I knew this would happen.” Tears sprang to her eyes, her voice getting choked. “I knew you’d never forgive me.”
“Unlike you,” he said, “I don’t forgive people when they’ve fucked me over.”
“Then that’s your loss. Because people mess up—even you. And people deserve second chances. I’m sorry for lying. I am. But I’m not going to beg you to forgive me. That’s on you, Anthony.”
“You have some nerve,” he growled, standing up and looming over her again. “You not only pull this social media stunt, but then you sell the story I told you in confidence to the press. And you’re acting like I should forgive you?” He laughed tonelessly. “Why are you playing the victim when you were the one to blame?”
Thea’s face flamed. “I didn’t sell that story. It was an accident. I told you—”
“And I remain unconvinced.”
“I would never have betrayed your confidence like that.” Before she could stop herself, she added, “Because I love you.”
Anthony stilled. The room seemed to freeze over, and like that, Thea knew she’d lost him. Maybe she’d had a case if she’d only kept things neutral or logical. But love? To Anthony, that was a dirty word with only negative connotations.
“You love me?” His voice was silky soft, and Thea felt fear congeal inside her. “You love me?” he repeated. “So much that you lied to me? That you went behind my back to discover my secrets, to cause me to lose the one thing I’ve worked my entire life for?”
Although he never raised his voice, each word he spoke was like a dagger to Thea’s heart. It was all she could do not to crumple at his feet.
“You’re a liar and an opportunist,” he continued, sneering at her. “I promised to take down the person behind that campaign. Well, I can promise you this: I’ll make your life hell, Thea. If you think telling me that you love me will change anything, you’re wrong.”
“I didn’t tell you to make you change your mind. I told you because I’ve decided to be honest.” Thea lifted her chin, but she could feel the tears coming. Humiliating, angry, devastated tears. “I was stupid enough to fall in love with you because I thought there was a man with a heart inside you. But I was wrong. You’re just a heartless bastard, like you said you were.”
His eyes flashed. “Yes, I am. I told you that from the beginning. You should’ve listened to me.”
Thea wiped her eyes, her heart breaking into a million pieces. She wanted to touch him, to kiss him one last time. But the quiet anger radiating from him was just another wall she couldn’t overcome.
“You can hate me all you want,” she whispered, “but I won’t do the same. I hope you’re happy, Anthony. I mean it.”
He didn’t say anything to that. She drank him in one last time—his dark eyes, his clenched jaw, the rigidity of his posture—and she knew this was the end. It hurt, but she’d said her piece. All she could do now was walk away.
So she did. She walked away and didn’t look back.
22
Thea stared at the pile of folders on her desk and wondered who had decided to leave them there. Because she was one of the administrative assistants, her coworkers tended to think that her desk was everyone’s desk. She would often find files, folders, papers, and all sorts of various office accoutrements that had appeared while she was going to the bathroom or out to lunch. They knew enough not to put them on her desk when she was sitting there, apparently, so they just did it when she was gone and couldn’t object.
She sighed as she flipped through the folders. They were client files that needed filing, most likely. Already bored by the thought of having to file all afternoon, she put them in her drawer that she could lock, effectively forgetting them for now.
“Hey, Thea, I have some more files for you,” said Jason, one of the newer lawyers Ferguson had hired. Jason was the epitome of the adjective smarmy, with his easy good looks and ability to talk down to anyone who didn’t share his law degree from Columbia.
Thea hated him.
“I have to get this project done, so just leave them on my desk,” she said, sighing internally.
Jason frowned. “These are confidential. They need to be placed in the locked file cabinet.”
“I have a locked drawer—”
“And the key is in your unlocked drawer right above it?” He scoffed. “No, you need to file these immediately. I shouldn’t have to ask you twice.”
Considering that Jason wasn’t even remotely her boss, Thea was tempted to tell him to go to hell. With a stiff smile, she took his files and placed them on her desk. She did it slowly, making sure that Jason knew she wasn’t caving to his ridiculous demands.
“Like I said,” she said, still smiling, “I’ll file them when I have time.”
Stunned, Jason scowled, muttering under his breath about how incompetent basic help was. He stalked off like an angry bear. Thea couldn’t help but smile wider.
“He’s such an asshole,” said Nicole as she came up behind Thea. “Like he can’t return his own files to the cabinet?”
“This is why we need to make everything electronic,” said Thea. But with Ferguson at the wheel, who thought paper copies could never replace electronic documents, that would never happen.
“Hey, you never told me all about your trip,” said Nicole. “How was it? Did you have a great time?”
Thea stiffened. She was surprised Nicole hadn’t heard about the terrible weather, but then again, why would she? It was always raining in the Pacific Northwest.
Thea had to close her eyes for a moment. She saw Anthony, the look on his face when she’d told him everything. The disgust in his eyes when he’d realized what she’d done. It had been two weeks since she’d last spoken to him, and every day she’d missed him.
She wished she could tell her heart to stop being so idiotic. He didn’t love her; he’d never loved her. If he had, he would’ve at least tried to understand why she’d done what she had. She didn’t expect forgiveness, but he could at least try to see her side of things.
“It was fine,” said Thea. At Nicole’s surprised look, she added, “It rained a lot, so that was disappointing. But it was nice to get
away for a while. The woods were beautiful.”
“You know, I heard this rumor that your favorite person, Anthony Bertram, recently rented a cabin in that area. Did you see him?”
“No,” Thea lied. “I’m sure he had a way fancier cabin than I did.”
Nicole pouted. “Damn, I was so hoping that you saw him. You didn’t hear that he was close by?”
“No, how could I have known? I was in the middle of the woods.”
Thea’s tone was harsh enough that Nicole looked taken aback. Modifying her tone, Thea said, “Sorry, it’s been a long day. I need a stiff drink.”
Nicole patted Thea on the shoulder. “We should get happy hour on Friday. My treat.”
Thea returned to her work, but she couldn’t concentrate. She hadn’t been able to get any real work done since she’d driven home from Seattle and had cried herself to sleep that night. The morning after, she’d almost caved and called Anthony, but she’d known it would be pointless. Besides, she still had her pride, even though it was in tatters. She’d said what she’d needed to say. What else could she do besides beg?
She wouldn’t beg. That was too low, even for her.
Although she hadn’t heard from Anthony—as expected—that hadn’t stopped her from dreaming about him constantly. Some dreams were him coming to Fair Haven to tell her he didn’t care about the social media or the leaked story. He loved her. And then he’d pull her into his arms, kiss her, and then carry her to bed.
Those dreams were always her favorite.
The nightmares, though, those haunted her. Oftentimes they were simply a rehash of their argument, except sometimes they ended with Anthony having her arrested. Or Anthony doing something ridiculous, like pushing her off a cliff. Or the worst one yet: the argument had simply ended with Anthony telling her that he hated her.
She’d woken up from that one with tears in her eyes.
It was strange, wishing to right a wrong when the one you’d wronged refused to accept that you were truly repentant. Thea realized the irony in that. All of her talk of forgiveness back at the cabin had come to bite her in the ass. It was a just revenge, when all was said and done.
