MARGULIS-ROSSBERG POWER COUPLE SPLITS
FROM ROSSBERG TO FAIRCHILD
MARGULIS HEIRESS SEEKS NEW INDUSTRY PAIRING
Each new headline tightened the knots in my stomach, until I was gasping for breath. Axel rubbed my back, murmuring calming things to me.
But there was no calming down from this. Somehow, the news had broken through. We’d been careful to not go out in public together, to never be seen. Inside private spaces, like arriving via private jet or using our personal vehicles, we didn’t have to worry about paparazzi. But even with all the precautions, there was never an ironclad assurance that somebody wouldn’t sell information for money.
Even the tightest NDA couldn’t prevent someone taking the risk and making a quick buck off our private lives.
“I have to go into the office today,” I finally forced out, barely able to draw air. “My father is going to kill me.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Axel offered.
I laughed in spite of the tension. “God, that would make the situation worse.”
“I’m willing to do it if you need me there. If you need help getting through the day.” Axel gathered my hair to one side and kissed my cheek. “I’m here. Zero could come too.”
I sank against him, drawing support from his warmth as the car would through morning traffic. I’d get dropped off first, then Axel would head into his office with our luggage. Every block closer to Margulis headquarters ratcheted my tension tighter. By the time we reached the building, I could hardly force myself to stand. Axel stilled me before I stepped out of the car.
“You sure you don’t need me?” he asked, the sky-blue storm in his eyes rooting me to my spot. As always, he was the grounding force. The one who could bring me back to earth.
“I’ve got this,” I assured him.
“Allan’s gonna raise hell.”
“There’s no way through but forward,” I said, pressing a kiss to his lips. Every cell of my body vibrated with dreadful anticipation. This was the outcome I’d been avoiding for eight years. But things were different now. My father couldn’t prevent Axel from succeeding. He and his brothers had already climbed their way to the top. No amount of raging or shit-talking could prevent them from finding their clients. In a way, I’d been smart without realizing it, even though it had come at a high personal sacrifice.
Now was the time to claim my life. My future. My love.
I drew a deep breath, climbed out of the car and was greeted by the lenses of several cameras. Paparazzi. They’d been staked out and waiting. Cameras flashed as I stared up at the glossy black walls of Margulis Realty, schooling the annoyance off my face. They already had more than enough fodder, spotting me exiting a Fairchild vehicle. Which meant this was just the beginning of a whole new chapter.Game on.
I walked on autopilot through the lobby and into the elevator, barely noticing anyone around me. Up on the executive floor, people murmured quietly as I passed. I headed straight for my father’s office, knowing that there was no time like the present to completely light everything on fire.
The media was the gasoline…and I was the burning match.
I knocked once on my father’s door before pushing it open. He sat glowering at his desk, facing someone tucked into the chair before him. It took me a moment to realize who was here.
“Mother?” I asked, the knot of my gut executing a freefall.
If my mother was here, this was a four-alarm emergency. She rarely came into the office, preferring instead the utmost separation between my father’s work and her private life.
She twisted to look at me, not even bothering to feign a smile. Both of my parents embodied the opposite of happy to see me. A roar erupted between my ears, and that dull throb returned behind my rib. If my parents didn’t murder me in this office, then the Eli-inspired cancer would surely finish me before much longer.
"Cora Margulis-Rossberg." My mother’s voice shook. I’d never heard her say my name like that before. Ice spread through my veins.
“What’s going on?” I forced out, immediately cursing myself for acting ignorant to the headlines. I squeezed my eyes shut. “I mean—I’m here to talk. I saw the headlines.”
“I am beyond words right now,” she said, her voice thick with more emotion than I’d ever heard in my life. Possibly not even after Chris died. “You need to fix this. And it needs to happen immediately.”
My father remained silent at his desk; he looked profoundly unwell.
“I don’t know how this happened,” I said, holding my position near the door in case I needed to bolt at a moment’s notice.
“How can you not know?” she screamed. “Have you been living under a rock? When did you become so careless?”
I drew a shaky breath. I could barely see straight. “Mother—”