“I don’t see why any of that is my problem.” His face remains stoic, unchanging.
Tears gather in my eyes at the injustice of the world. A world ruled by the likes of Jonathan King. Large corporations like King Enterprises don’t give a fuck about smaller ones. They don’t stop to look under their shoes after they crush multiple families with their capitalist bullshit.
Gulping in a deep breath, I try to ignore how close he is and that his scent is enveloping me whether I like it or not. It’s another one of the intimidation factors that he uses relentlessly and unapologetically.
It’s useless to fight him on a bigger scale or in a company versus company type of argument. He came here already knowing he has the upper hand, so he’ll never cave in.
I take an entirely different route. “You’re my sister’s husband. We can’t possibly do this.”
“I get to decide that, and I say we will.”
“How could you do this to Alicia after…” I trail off before I blurt out all the thoughts I want to scream at his face. This is the worst time to confront him about the past.
He eradicates the distance between us in one step and holds my chin captive like he did at the wedding. I try to take a step back, but he wraps his other hand around the back of my neck, imprisoning me.
My pulse heightens until it’s the only thing I can hear in my ears. His callous touch, and the way he does it, as if he has every right to — as if I’m already his property — should make me rage. However, I’m unable to get past the ball lodged in my throat. It’s like I’m back to being that little girl who peeked up at him, because actually looking at him? That’s like peering at the sun and being roasted alive.
“After what? If you start something, finish it.”
“After she died.” I’m glad my voice doesn’t crack or break. “I can’t do that to her. She was my sister.”
“The one whose funeral you didn’t even attend?”
I bite my lower lip, caging in the feelings trying to bleed out of me.
“That’s what I thought.” He releases me with what almost seems like…distaste.
I see it then, the darkness in his grey eyes. At first, I thought it was anger and disapproval, and while those are indeed there, it’s so much deeper than that. There’s also another potent emotion that’s lurking beneath the surface.
Grudge. Hard and poignant.
Jonathan doesn’t seek to own me because he wants me. Far from it. He has a hidden agenda and he won’t stop until he achieves it. Whether I survive or perish at the end is the least of his concerns.
“I’ll give you time to think about it, and then I’ll send a driver to your house.”
“How do you know my address?”
He continues as if I didn’t just ask him a question, “If you don’t show up at my house tonight, Harris will start H&H acquisition procedures tomorrow morning.”
“How…how is that a choice?”
“It is. You’ll always have a choice with me, Aurora. Be smart. After what you did to Maxim, I expect that of you.”
“I told you not to say his name,” I snap.
He watches me peculiarly for a second. I expect him to invade my space again and confiscate my oxygen, but he turns around and leaves with the same savage power he walked in with.
Air whooshes back into my lungs and I fall on the chair, my heels scraping against the ground. It’s like he stole my thought process, and I can now have it back.
Or not really.
Now the air is thick with his indecent proposal that’s hanging over my head like a guillotine. I’m not an idiot. I know Jonathan wouldn’t pay so much money for pussy. I mean, he’s the Jonathan King. He can have whomever he wishes.
So why me? What the hell does he want from me?
The door opens and Layla rushes inside holding two cups of iced coffee. “That bastard had a smile on his face as he left. That’s not good, is it?”
“We’re screwed, Lay.”