Mr. CEO(40)

I look at the doorway and mouth an apology to Eva. Her eyes are full of pity, and I hate it. I shake my head and close my eyes. I am at last done with Ian. Forever.

“You never loved me, did you?” I say to him. “You were just using me this whole time, pretending to be something you weren’t.” I don’t know why, but saying the words out loud shatters my last defense. I feel raw and vulnerable, but in a way, stronger for admitting the truth. I open my eyes as Ian goes off about how I wasn’t there for him, saying things that are mostly falsehoods designed to get me worked up. But I’m no longer listening.

Bye, Ian.

Tiredly, I drop the phone from my ear and lean over to hang it up.

At that moment, I hear a small sound near the doorway and I look over. My heart skips a beat. It’s Logan, standing behind Eva... and he’s staring at me with a pissed off expression.

Oh shit. I don’t know what all he heard me say, but this isn’t what it looks like. My heart beats frantically, and I try to think of how to explain it. But it’s too late.

Before I can think of what to say, Logan turns and walks off.





Chapter 22





Logan





I know my driver, Andrew, is waiting out front of the building. I stare out of the large windows and look down. I need to go. There’s more work I can do here. There’s always more work, more deals and emails and business ties. But I want to leave and get the fuck out of here. I’m pissed.

She told me she was single, and I believed her.

I clench my jaw and try to relax my fists.

The way she was talking to him didn’t fucking sound like things were over between them. I don’t like it.

I don’t like that I feel lied to. More than that, I don’t like my reaction. I wanted to pin her down and fuck her while he could hear her on the phone. I wanted to show her who she belonged to. And that’s dangerous.

She doesn’t belong to me. That’s not what this is supposed to be. I can’t deny what I’m feeling though. And I fucking hate it.

I haven’t gotten one productive thing done since I walked in on that phone call.

I breathe heavily and turn away from the window. I feel like a caged animal in this office. I need to find a release.

I look back at my computer screen and feel a small pang of guilt.

It’s a record of her phone calls and texts. It wasn’t quite legal to do, but it was easy. And I needed to know.

My father used to do this shit to my mother. I don’t want to be like him. I hate falling into his old habits.

When he looked at her messages though, he found plenty. All I’m seeing is evidence that they’re over.

It doesn’t make me any less angry. I don’t like her getting worked up over him. I want all of her passion. Every last bit. That fucker doesn’t deserve an ounce of it. If she wants someone to yell at, I’d rather it be me.

I’ve been obsessing over that thought since I’ve realized it’s true. I shouldn’t want it.

It’s well past five and this floor of the building is silent. Everyone’s gone home, so I’m certain Charlotte has already left. I may drop by her office.

I crack my neck and ignore the pings from my computer and the direct messages on my screen. I have a heavy duty punching bag in my basement. It's for moments just like this.

I’ve never thought of myself as a selfish man. Cold at times and distant, sure. I have flaws. Not selfish though.

But I am when it comes to her.

As if my thoughts brought her to me, a timid knock sounds at the door and then it slowly opens to reveal my Rose. I stand behind my desk and wait for her to enter. The air is thick with tension as she slowly shuts the door and finally looks up at me with those sweet blue eyes.

“Hey,” she says and her voice is soft and she’s twisting the bit of hair hanging along her shoulders from her ponytail around her finger. I’ve never seen her look so insecure in my life. Her eyes dart around the room as she stands in the doorway.

“I-” she clears her throat and then looks me in the eye. “I just wanted to clear up what that conversation was about down there.”

My body’s tense and I feel on edge. I’m not giving her anything. I want to hear what she has to say. “Go on,” I say simply as I walk to the door and lock it.

“I… Ian and I,” she starts and takes an unsteady seat on the leather sofa in my office. It makes a soft sound as she settles into it. She clears her throat and sets her purse on the floor.

She looks uneasy. It makes me feel off balance. I like knowing how things are going to play out. I set the terms, I decide how it ends. This little prick is making me have doubts. Ian is going to pay for that.