Collin clicks his tongue like I said something stupid.
"Since when have you known?" Why I want to know, I'm not sure yet. Maybe because my father stabbed a knife in my back by bringing my ex into this.
"Your father needed someone to keep an eye on you," he replies casually, as if he was simply informing me of what he had for breakfast.
"That makes no sense." A flush of confusion begins to ooze through me like lava slowly traveling down the outside of a volcano. I tense my fingers not to curl them inward.
"The first time we visited your parents, Victor invited me to his study, remember?" His posture is relaxed, which in return causes my stomach to clench. I don't like this.
I nod stiffly, the effort to keep my expression neutral being excruciating.
"He asked me what my intentions were. You had been hurt before, and he wanted to make sure this would not happen again."
I want to snort at the audacity. Even if his words (or my father's objective) are true, this would not explain Dad revealing the one secret he made us all swear to bury six feet under. I don't speak, wanting to know where this is going.
"I informed him that I believed you'd be the perfect addition to the Liberman family one day."
My skin crawls, imagining this future. "You mean I would've been your perfect beard?" Make him appear grown up and settled down while he whored his way through New York.
"Every marriage requires sacrifices." He steeples his fingers in front of his chest. "We would've been each other'sbeards, as you call it."
I'm starting to feel twitchy, wanting to dive across the desk and smack the superior smirk off his face. "That still doesn't explain why my father would let you in on my condition. I hadn't had an…attack in years." I bite the inside of my cheek until a coppery taste fills my mouth.
"Your father is a smart man. He was aware of my past. Marrying you would've put you at the top of the food chain—he very much liked that idea. He might be wealthy, but your father's meager surgeon salary has nothing on the Liberman fortune. He could've dropped the constant surveillance he had on you to make sure you wouldn't snap."
What. The. Fuck?
"I promised him I would keep your secret safe, and in return, I didn't have to give up my fun."
"Your fun?" I have no words.
"Your father cares about his reputation—a reputation that took an unrecoverable hit when you jumped in the pool that day. His career and monetary safety were nothing like what he could've had. Plus, all the money he spent on keeping an eye on you."
Wha—? My jaw drops.
Collin continues as if he hasn't just verbally slapped me. "He would've saved a fortune if I had taken over the watch."
I swallow against the lump in my throat. With a Herculean effort, I manage not to blink and give away the tears building in my eyes.
"Get out." My voice is calm, the opposite of the havoc raging inside of me. My father traded me for money. That was all it came down to. I knew he was a cold man, but this is unforgivable.
When Collin doesn't move, I push myself up with my palms flat on the desk. "You have five seconds to leave this room, Collin, or I will harm you. I don't give a fuck if I lose this job or go to jail, but you will be out of my life one way or another."
Collin challenges me by cocking an eyebrow, and my control snaps. I reach for the scissors peeking out of the pencil holder. For the past week, I've seen them as a decoration, with their pretty gold handle matching the rest of the accessories in the room, but they could do damage if necessary.
Wrapping my fingers around my newfound weapon, he jerks out of his seat. "What the hell, Denielle?" his voice pitches, and for some reason, Marcus's face appears in front of my mind's eye.
He drew a gun on Collin two days ago. Now, I'm threatening his life with a pair of scissors. And he does nothing. What did I ever see in this man? Oh right, a security blanket I thought I needed. Not anymore. Less than a month around Marcus, the only man who has the right to make me feel guilty for anything, has pushed me in ways I didn't expect. He brought the Denielle to the surface I thought I'd left behind along the way while watching my friends fight for their futures. I don't remember when I stopped fighting or even why, but that's over.
I sidestep the desk, and Collin bolts. "You will regret this," he hisses before he disappears into the hallway. I expect him to run to Denis, making him fire me on the spot, but when his footsteps echo down the stairs, I return to my original position and let my ass fall into my desk chair.
I slowly place the scissors on the tabletop and hold my trembling fingers out in front of me. Adrenaline is crashing through my body in waves.
I'm not sure how long I sit there, my hands now resting in my lap, staring at nothing, when a soft tap on the doorframe redirects my attention.
Denis studies me carefully before he approaches. "I heard all of it," he says quietly.
"I'm sorry. I'll pack up my things and—"