Heartbreaker: A Workplace Friends-To-Lovers Romance (Paths To Love Book 3)

by Grahame Claire

  “I don’t want to hear it anymore,” I growled, tired of his harping on a subject I didn’t want to think about.

  “I’ve been up all night, following the money trail.”

  I turned around, grateful he’d let this thing about Dad and Mulaney go for the moment. “Find anything?”

  He glanced away and put a hand on the back of his neck. “Uh—are you going to go off on me if I say something else you don’t like?”

  “Just spit it out.”

  “Some of the money that’s missing from Mulaney’s sector ended up in an offshore account.”

  The evidence I didn’t want to see kept piling up against her, yet so much of me couldn’t condemn her as culpable. Even though my words and actions have said otherwise. This was hell. Fucking hell.

  “The account was numbered, but I found a name associated with it.”

  “Not hers,” I concluded.

  “Nope.” Drew shook his head. “Dad’s.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Mulaney

  “We need to talk.”

  I gripped the doorknob. Easton sat in the chair of our bedroom—no, Stone and Muriella’s guest bedroom. No wonder my family had been so antsy as I’d waded through them after a long day at the office.

  “If I die of a heart attack, you won’t get everything I own.” I hesitated before shutting the door, not completely sure I wanted to be alone with him. I’d had some time to stew over what he’d done, had been ready to bless him out, but he’d been scarce . . . as in I hadn’t seen him. Not even at the office.

  “I’m not interested in your things.” He wore a navy suit and my favorite sky-blue tie that matched his eyes. I knew the determined look on his face. We’d worked together too long for me not to. Whatever affection he’d once felt for me had been replaced by something infinitely colder. He meant business.

  The word my brothers had so casually tossed around popped into my head, and my chest seized. I’d picked up the phone several times over the last couple days, but I hadn’t been able to connect the call to my lawyer. Judging by Easton’s expression, I may not have a choice any longer.

  I tossed my bag on the dresser. “Then what are you interested in?” I propped a hip against the sturdy piece of furniture.

  He produced a tri-folded set of papers from the breast pocket of his suit jacket. “I’ll sign your papers.”

  For seven months, I’d waited to hear those words. Now that they’d come, my knees weakened.

  “You could’ve done this before you blabbed to our whole family. They didn’t need to know about our mistake.”

  I almost missed his flinch, but I saw it and drew little satisfaction knowing this hurt him. A flicker of hope sparked from seeing he still cared.

  He held out the annulment papers. I pushed off the dresser. “The personal delivery is a nice touch, though I’d have been fine with you messengering them.” As my fingers grasped the edges of the document he snatched them away.

  “I said I’ll sign them. I haven’t yet.”

  I dropped my arm to my side and balled my fist. “Can we just get this over with?” I didn’t want to be toyed with. It hurt like hell that he was finally giving me what I’d been asking for, and I’d resorted to my default mechanism of pretending I didn’t care.

  He tapped the top of the papers. “It’s only fair if I give you what you want, you give me something I want.”

  My nails cut into my palms. “Putting this behind us is mutually beneficial.” It didn’t feel that way anymore, but it was what I’d advocated for.

  “That’s what you want.”

  What I’d wanted, as in the past. Judging by the impassive expression on his face, there was no way to convince him otherwise. He’d made up his mind. I’ve lost him. I’ve completely lost him. Why now? “What do you want?”

  There was a stretch of silence. Easton studied me to the point I wanted to run. I stayed rooted in place, wondering just what exactly he saw.

  “Your eggs.”

  “Come again?” I blinked at him, yet he remained casually positioned in the chair.

  “I want your eggs. It’s all in the paperwork, but the short of it is that you provide enough so I can have children.”

  My mouth dropped open. Nothing but air came out. He waited for me to regain my wits, hands folded on his lap on top of those blasted papers.

  “Have you lost your mind?” I finally asked. “Let’s just say I agree to this nonsense. What are you going to do with my eggs?”

  “That’s none of your concern.”

  “The hell it’s not.” Anger sprouted from my feet and grew until my face got hot. “If you think I’m giving you my eggs to do what you please with—”

  “I’ve selected a surrogate.”

  What? A surrogate?

  “Why don’t you just use her eggs?”

  “I want yours.”

  I reached for something to steady me and came up short. “I don’t understand.”

  “My sperm will impregnate your eggs and the surrogate will carry my children to term.” He spoke clinically, like I would be doing my part in a science experiment.

  “How did you already find a surrogate?” His knuckles turned white as he stared blankly at me. “You’ll answer every damn question I have.”

  “I started looking about eight months ago.”

  Dots connected. “When Loretta was diagnosed,” I whispered. He nodded, his face shadowed with the pain I felt. And then I went cold. “You”—I pointed at him with a shaky finger—“that’s why you”—I struggled to form a sentence as hurt sliced right through my anger. “You used me. You married me . . . for an offspring.”

  He sat there stoically while something in me I hadn’t known was there died. He hadn’t wanted to use protection as a means to an end. It had nothing to do with trust and connection.

  “It’s a new year. Let’s put the last one behind us,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion as he stood. Easton reached for my hand and placed the papers in them. “You have seven days to decide. And don’t think there’s another way out of this. If I don’t get what I want, you don’t get what you want.”

  As soon as he shut the door behind him, I hurled the papers at it, watching them scatter to the floor.

  Give him my eggs? Let someone else carry our child? Easton raising our baby? Without me?

  I sank down to the ottoman. What was the big deal? I didn’t want kids. All I’d wanted for months was an annulment. Here it was handed to me on a silver platter, and I . . . I was crushed. Eviscerated.

  If he’d have asked me for money, anything but this—Enough with the lies. I deserved this, but nothing had ever hurt as much as the realization that Easton had only taken those vows for his own selfish purposes. And pursued me relentlessly. It had all been lies. This was a man I didn’t know.

  He’d dared me to marry him because he knew I couldn’t say no. I’d tried like hell to get out of it. Because he scared me, and it turned out I’d been right to be afraid.

  He didn’t know it, but I’d meant every word I said in that Vegas chapel. And he’d done the one thing I’d promised myself I’d never let happen again.

  Easton Carter brought me to my knees.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Easton

  Thirty-six hours.

  That was all it had been since I’d delivered my proposition to Mulaney. I’d been sure after her initial shock, she’d have come to me, eager to take the deal. The part of me she owned fist-pumped every minute those papers remained unsigned.

  I opened EXODUS on my laptop to try and find any shred of evidence as to why we’d had to sell. I’d taken to working from the hotel, needing the time and space to get my head straight. It hadn’t taken me long to figure out a piece of my future, but it was still difficult to see the one who didn’t want anything to do with it.

  Carter Energy had been my real partner over the years, and though it was all but gone, I had an obligation to find out what happened. Mooning over
my soon-to-be ex-wife wouldn’t get it done. Neither was staying away from the office.

  “Hello, Mr. Carter.”

  “Hi, Holly.”

  She stood from Mulaney’s desk, quickly gathering her things. “I can finish up somewhere else.”

  “Why aren’t you in your office?” I knit my brows together. “Is it not suitable?”

  Her cheeks turned bright pink. “It’s much more than I need. Your father was looking for a quiet space, so I offered him my office since Miss Jacobs is in a meeting.”

  “Dad’s here?”

  “Your mother wanted to rest.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I think she didn’t want him hovering.”

  My shoulders dropped, certain Holly was right. “Stay as long as you need. I want to speak to him anyway.”

  I had almost reached the door when she called my name. “I—” She glanced out the open door and paled. “It can wait.”

  I followed her line of sight, but didn’t see anyone there. “You sure?”

  “Yes.” She darted her eyes back out into the hallway and leaned on the desk as if she needed support. The color had yet to return to her face, but I didn’t press further.

  Whatever she wanted to tell me she’d do in her own time.

  I closed the door behind me when I left to go in search of my father.

  “Hey, I was thinking we could go out tonight, check out some of the bars around here.” Drew fell in step beside me.

  “Can I let you know?” I could use a few drinks, but going on a bar crawl with my brother wasn’t how I needed to deal with my problems.

  He hid his disappointment well. “Sure thing,” he said far too brightly as he slapped me on the shoulder. “I gotta run. Text me if you want to meet up later.”

  I watched him walk down the path we’d just come from. He hesitated by my office door and turned back around. We flicked chins at each other, and I felt guilty for semi-rejecting his offer, even though we saw each other all the time. It had been a while since we’d had a night out, and we were due, but I had too many other things on my mind.

  The second I opened the door to Holly’s office, all guilty thoughts vanished.

  Mulaney and my father had their arms twined around each other in an embrace so tight a piece of thread wouldn’t fit between them. Her head was on his shoulder, eyes closed like he was her safe place.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from ripping them apart. The stress ball I grabbed was a slap in the face, yet I squeezed it anyway. Everything I’d denied since Drew made the allegation was right there in the flesh. I hadn’t believed a word of it and still struggled even though it was before my eyes. What the fuck?

  He spoke so low, I couldn’t hear. Anger got the best of me. I cleared my throat. They jumped apart, surprise etched on both their faces.

  Mulaney recovered first. “I see you’ve decided to grace the office with your presence.”

  “Doesn’t look like much work is going on.”

  She had the nerve to appear confused for a second, but then fury lit her eyes.

  “Son, stop by and see your mother when you’ve wrapped up here for the day.” Son? How could he say that to me when I just caught him with my wife in his arms? “I’ll call you later,” he said to Mulaney as he patted my shoulder on his way out.

  The door clicked shut, and I locked it. Tension swirled thick and heavy between us. Mulaney glared as she marched toward me.

  “How dare you make a proposition like that to me?” Her voice had a lethal edge to it.

  “I’d think you’d take the deal to free yourself up. Or are you saving your eggs for someone else?” The image of her pregnant with my father’s child—my half-brother—nauseated me.

  She shoved at my chest. “Are you out of your ever-loving mind? You’ve seen me around kids. They scare the shit out of me. And stop skirting the subject.”

  “You’re the one who’s been avoiding the very thing for months.”

  “You used me for my eggs.” She shoved again, and underneath the rage, something unexpected appeared. Hurt. But that didn’t make sense. She was the one who didn’t want to be married to me.

  “I didn’t make you say those vows,” I said. “And I sure as hell haven’t broken mine.”

  “You think I have?” Another shove, the anger on her face no match for the pain.

  “Apparently, I was the last to know,” I said bitterly.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “How could you do it? Why him? Of all people, why him?”

  She fisted the lapels of my jacket and shook. “Who?”

  “She loves you like a daughter. She’s dying.”

  Mulaney froze. “Spell it out, Easton, because I sure as hell don’t like what I think you’re inferring.”

  “Why did you marry me when you’re with my father?”

  Her arms fell to her sides. She stumbled back, the color draining from her face.

  “I was the last fool not to see it.” I moved toward the windows.

  “You think I’m having an affair with your father, and you still want my eggs?”

  I leaned against the glass. “Ridiculous, huh? I want my children to be like you.”

  “Me?” She took a step closer. “A cheater?” Another step. “A thief?” Two more steps. “A person who lets other people use her?”

  “Strong.” I pushed off the window. “Someone who speaks her mind.” I closed the gap between us. “A fighter.”

  Her lips parted. I stopped just short of touching her. The energy radiating between us was why I’d held on, why I couldn’t believe she’d been with my father even when the evidence was in front of me.

  The slap stung my cheek with the force behind it. “Harris is my other father. Loretta is a mother to me. I can’t believe you’d think I would do that to her.”

  I caught her wrist before she landed a second blow. “What I just walked in on didn’t look innocent.”

  “He told me if I walked away from you, it would be the biggest mistake of my life, you horse’s ass. He thinks you love me,” she shouted, wriggling to get her hand free.

  I released her immediately. He thinks I love her. Because he knows me. My head pounded. Moments ago I had doubted the integrity, the morality of the man I’d loved all my life. For God’s sake, Carter, how did you ever believe he could do that to Mama? How could Drew? That was so much more in line with the man I knew than cheating ever would be. I’d let poison cloud my judgment because, when it came to Mulaney, I had no sense.

  Her chin lifted. “I don’t owe you any explanation. If anything, you owe me an apology.”

  She was right, but I couldn’t find the words for one. It wasn’t just her hand that had smacked me back into reality, but her words.

  “When it comes to you, I’m irrational,” I admitted.

  That didn’t deter her. “Do you really want to stay married to a woman you don’t trust?” She tilted her head back, defiance blazing up at me.

  There it was again. She was mad all right, but it was tinged with a hurt I didn’t expect.

  I clamped my hands on her hips. “I want to stay married to you. You made promises. I want you to keep them.”

  She ran her fingertip down my cheek with enough pressure so as just not to break the skin. “I will never use my children as bargaining chips.”

  That part of me she owned fist-pumped in double time. “Then it looks like you’re stuck with me.” I pressed my fingers into her flesh. “Or we could do it the old-fashioned way.”

  “You’re insane.” She spoke as if I’d punched holes in her voice. Memories of our wedding night reflected back at me.

  When I’d woken up to an empty bed the morning after, I thought I’d been alone in experiencing the intensity of our union. It seemed impossible, but she’d made it look easy to walk away, while all I’d craved was more of her. No matter how many rounds she’d shot at me, they’d all been worth it, because I knew how good it would be when she finally gave in
to us.

  Those brown pools revealed exactly what I felt. She’d been moved to the point there was no going back. She was just better at hiding it.

  I inched my face closer until my lips hovered over hers. “Am I?”

  “Three minutes ago you thought I was fucking your father,” she said hoarsely.

  “I was wrong.” Our chests heaved against one another.

  “How could you ever believe that?”

  “I didn’t until I saw you in that embrace. You make me lose my head.” I brushed her hair back from her forehead.

  “I—I haven’t cheated on you. Ever. Even though you piss me off.”

  “And you don’t think every time you handed me another set of those fucking annulment papers I blew a gasket?”

  “You used me,” she said, voice rising.

  “You’re ashamed of being married to me,” I fired back. “When I told our families, you looked like you wanted to die of embarrassment.”

  “I should’ve been the one to tell them.”

  “Seven months was long enough. Don’t act like you ever had any intention of telling them a damn thing. You said it, I’m your mistake.”

  “You. Used. Me.”

  Our noses were so close, everything became a blur except the fire in her eyes. “Before yesterday, that thought never entered your mind.”

  “What?”

  “That wasn’t why I married you. I wanted to marry—”

  “I know what you did.” What?

  My nostrils flared as we went round and round in circles. “How many times can I say it? I wanted to marry you, damn it.”

  A sharp intake of her breath was the only sound for a full five seconds.

  “I’m not talking about that,” she finally said.

  “Then what did I do?”

  “You stole the money from Carter Energy.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Mulaney

  Easton released me like I’d doused him with scalding water. I pressed my palms into Holly’s desk, resting my rear against it.