His eyes snap to mine, and I feel the full brunt of his narrowed blue-eyed stare.
I tongue my cheek, damning my swimming vision as I glare at him. “Who better to inform you of your wrongdoings, other than your biggest mistake?”
He swallows as the air shifts, followed by a long silence. Something resembling remorse flits over his features before it evaporates. “I’m sorry you feel that way.” For a single moment, I do feel something, something tangible, and it passes between us at that table. A flicker of hope lights in my chest, but I bat it away, refusing to back down.
“You want me to take pride in my job? Pay me. You want my tone respectful? Be a respectable employer. You want me to respect my name? Be a respectable man.”
His eyes lift to mine, his voice soft. “I’ve sacrificed quite a lot to make sure you’re cared for.”
“I’ve never asked you for a single thing, aside for extending support to my mother, who worked herself stupid to make sure I had everything I needed, and you wouldn’t do that. I’m asking you to make this right, not for me, but for them. If you want to continue to dangle your fortune over my head, then do it, or better yet, take it away and give it back to them. Because if it’s their money I’m inheriting, I don’t want it.”
“Again with the dramatics, which are not necessary. I’ve obviously made an error in judgment trusting the wrong people. I’ll handle this.”
“Thank you.” I move to get up and he stands with me, stopping my retreat.
“Just so we’re clear. You are aware that I own twenty-four factories, ten of which are overseas?” His tone has me pausing.
“I didn’t realize you had so many, no.”
“Then you are also unaware I trust people with the day-to-day handling of them because I have no choice but to delegate these details, details I can’t oversee myself. When they don’t do their job, it’s my head on the line and it’s my head that will roll. I’m very aware of that truth.”
I’ve started a tiger fight with a tiger with the same stripes, though his roar isn’t as loud, it’s there, and just as effective. But it’s still guilt I feel when I think for seconds, that maybe, there is some truth to his words.
“I’m sure it’s a lot to deal with, but this one is close to you. It’s right under your nose.” My voice cracks with that statement, and I curse my inability to keep my personal feelings out of it. He opens his mouth to speak and I wait, seconds, maybe longer, before he finally does. “I’ll take care of it, Cecelia.” I stride out of the room feeling more defeated than victorious. And when the front door closes minutes later, I sag behind my bedroom door and let another lone tear fall.
DOMINIC IS HERE TO PICK me up tonight. I have no idea why, but he’s in my driveway staring at me as I descend the steps, his features impassable. Nerves fire off as I round his hood. He doesn’t have the decency to open the door for me like Sean does before I climb into his passenger seat.
“Where’s Sean?”
He takes off in reply while I glower at the side of his head. My day is not improving at all with his surprise arrival. It was Sean I hoped would balm and distract me from my argument with my father. The last thing I want to do on my day off is spar with this motherfucker.
“Seriously, man. Words.”
“Sean is busy. I’m doing him a favor.”
“I could have driven.”
“Well, you aren’t.”
“You could let me drive now.”
“Not a chance.”
“I’ve been practicing in Sean’s Nova. I’ve gotten better.”
He smirks. “You think so?”
“Know so.”
Wrong words. Those were the wrong words to say.
In zero to a hundred and twenty, the bastard has me screeching at the top of my lungs as he fully opens up his dark horse’s capabilities. This driving is nothing like the thrill ride that he took me on the first night. I’m terrified as he flies down the road with absolutely no regard for his life or mine.
“Okay, point made. You’re the king, okay? Slow the hell down, please.”
He nails the few curves before he hits the straightaway as sweat gathers on every surface of my body.
“This isn’t funny!”
He cranks up the music as we pass a small gas station.