I walked slower as he kept his deadly stare on me. I broke eye contact as I passed Marie’s desk and threw him a questioning look.
“He is hateful today,” she whispered, throwing a quick look toward his office. “I’ve never seen him this bad before. Stay away from him.”
I frowned but gave her a quick nod as I stepped toward my desk, feeling his eyes on me.
There was a brown envelope with a post on it that read ‘sign this’ angrily written in red marker.
I winced as I sat down, the pain in my belly getting even more intense. Opening the envelope, I took out the contract-looking papers and my heart sank in my chest, momentarily forgetting any discomfort I was feeling.
Renunciation of Rights and Non-Disclosure Agreement.
My stomach heaved at the title and I glanced back toward his office, but he was not looking my way anymore; instead, he was typing angrily on his keyboard.
I took a shaky breath before quickly scanning the document in my hands. By signing this, I would renounce any financial support and my child would never have any claim to the St-John’s estate. Furthermore, it was forbidden for my child to have any official involvement with anyone in the St-John family, effectively preventing Ethan from claiming my baby as he had once suggested.
I shook my head, as the pain I was enduring now felt both physical and emotional. I’d never intended to go along with Ethan’s crazy idea, but this lack of trust was astonishing.
The second part of the agreement basically stated that I would never be allowed to reveal the paternity of the child to anyone for any reason.
I blinked back tears at the coldness of this document; the baby was nothing more than a liability he wanted to make sure would disappear, a skeleton to add to his closet.
This document made it clear—everything that had happened was a mistake that had to be erased for Hugo.
I felt the back of my eyes start to burn with unshed tears as I reached for a pen with a shaky hand. This document wouldn’t have hurt me a few weeks ago, or at least not as much as it was hurting me now. Things had started to change over the past month—he had mellowed and showed glimpses of a Hugo I liked, a Hugo I could love, which part of me did.
I signed both copies and a sort of grief settled in me when I noticed his part had already been signed. I was having a hard time believing that the man who had so tenderly made love to me the previous night, keeping adoring eyes locked with mine, was the same man who had been glaring at me this morning and had placed this document here for me to sign, making our child nothing more than a business transaction.
I took my own copy and folded it in four before sliding it inside my coat.
My stomach squeezed painfully and part of me was happy I'd had no food this morning. I was sure I would have thrown up on my desk.
My computer pinged and I looked up, seeing a message from the reception downstairs announcing the arrival of the English investors. As I slid the other copy of the agreement back into the envelope, I was grateful for the interruption because my dark thoughts were taking me much too close to a full teary breakdown.
I pressed the interphone button. “Mr. St-John.” My voice cracked saying his name and I had to clear my throat. “The investors are here.”
“Very well. See that reception sends them up and step into my office in the meantime.”
His voice was detached and cold and I somehow missed the anger. This was much more impersonal as if I were nobody.
I stood up and swayed a little, grabbing the edge of my desk to steady myself, but Marie didn’t miss it and threw me a concerned look.
“I was in a rush. I forgot to eat,” I said with a sheepish smile. “I’ll fix that in a m—”
“Ms. Byrnes, I saidnow!” He said over the interphone. “Not after you’re done socializing.”
“Hateful, I told you,” Marie muttered before casting her eyes back to her computer and starting to type again.
I walked in, keeping a reasonable distance once the door was closed.
“I’ll need you to go to finance and get the latest investment reports, and then you will need to go to planning to get the latest copy of the revised plans and the permits and bring all that back so the investors can look at them.”
“Sir, wouldn’t it be easier to ask finance and planning to—” I stopped and winced as I felt a shooting pain now going from my lower back to my leg. “To send them to you by email?” I pointed at the flat-screen TV on the wall of his office. “So you can show it to them on the screen?”
“I have electronic copies. Do you think it’s my first investor meeting?” He snorted. “Please, Ms. Byrnes, don’t insult me with your needless advice. I just want you to go get me the paper version as well.”
I pursed my lips. “Very well.”
I turned to leave when Marie announced that the investors were up.