Filthy Rich Revenge: A Filthy Rich Billionaires Book - Lynn Raye Harris Page 0,74
act of yours again? Your father had a pilot’s license!”
Rebecca blinked. “So? Why does that matter?”
Alejandro’s eyes shot daggers at her. “Because someone told the press he committed suicide. They were at Ramirez Enterprises just now, demanding answers and accusing me of being a criminal.”
Rebecca wrapped her arms around herself, staring at him with her jaw open and her heart breaking. Her stomach lodged somewhere in the vicinity of her toes. Her heart sank like a lead weight. Her limbs refused to move.
Oh God.
He thought she’d done it. After everything, he thought she had betrayed him. As if she could.
Señora Flores appeared in the doorway, then spun and disappeared again.
Everything was so blurry.
Breathe. For the baby.
“Someone? Or me?” she asked, her heart turning to stone.
He wouldn’t look at her. “Who else?” he spat.
“Tell me,” Rebecca said, swallowing, making her voice very calm. It didn’t even feel a part of her as she spoke. “I want to hear the words from your lips.”
He raked a hand through his hair, spun back to her, fury written on every handsome line of his face. “As if you don’t know what you’ve done. Dios, you don’t even have the decency to deny it!”
“Tell me!” she screamed, suddenly angry and… offended! That was the word she wanted. Offended. How dare he accuse her of betraying him? After everything. Her heart hammered and her pulse raced. It took everything she had not to pick up the fat decorator book and throw it at his head.
Alejandro’s nostrils flared, his chest rising and falling hard. As if he’d run all the way from his office in downtown. As if he’d scaled a mountain to get to her.
No doubt he had. An evil, ugly mountain of his own design.
“Don’t get worked up,” he ordered. “Think of the baby.”
Rebecca dashed angry tears from her cheeks. “Or kittens and puppies. Anything but the nastiness in your mind.”
“You went to the press,” he grated, stalking closer again. Whirling away. “You told them your father committed suicide and that it was my fault! You want to ruin me, Rebecca. You want Layton International back by any means necessary, sí? You will not get it. I will destroy it first.”
Her fingers itched to wrap themselves around his throat. Her heart ached. “There was a pilot on the plane, or didn’t your people tell you that? Yes, my father had his license—but that doesn’t mean he crashed the plane, especially not with someone else on board. If he’d wanted to do that, why the hell would he go to Thailand? He could have taken his Cessna up and crashed it into the ocean if that’s what he’d wanted to do.”
For a moment, Alejandro looked uncertain. But then his expression hardened. “The truth isn’t necessary for what you want. You wanted to make it look like I did something illegal, like I’m a criminal. Just a lowly bullfighter who dared to aim too high, right?” He stopped his pacing and glared at her. “This lie, combined with the Dubai accusations, will make my shareholders think twice, yes? Ramirez Enterprises is in for a rocky quarter. But it won’t work, Rebecca. You won’t win. I’ll never sell Layton International to you.”
Rebecca sucked in a breath, surprised it wasn’t shaky or short. Strong emotion buffeted her, threatened her, but she held steady. She would not panic over this. Or over him. Not ever again.
“You’re more worried about a dip in stock prices than you are about me or our baby. You need someone to blame, and I’m convenient. The truth doesn’t matter to you at all.”
And neither did she. It hurt, but hadn’t she always known it deep down?
“No, you are more concerned with getting your precious company back. You are selfish, Rebecca. Selfish and manipulative. You planned this all along. You didn’t take your pills, you got pregnant on purpose, and you faked a panic attack to get me to marry you!”
Icy calm wafted over her, chilled her down to the bone. Inside, her heart bled. Outside, she was detached. So cold it frightened her. She could see with such clarity now. She’d been right about him. The man she’d loved was controlled by the angry, grief-stricken, suspicious man before her now. She’d tried to reach him, but she’d failed. Alejandro didn’t want to be reached. He wanted to lash out and blame others rather than confront the truth of his own shortcomings. He wasn’t willing or able to trust, and it was going to ruin him.