46

LORENZO

The door slammed shut, and silence settled around me, an overwhelming pressure pressing against my chest and leaving me breathless. A ringing resounded in my ears. I could no longer hear the media outside, hounding Jonathan and Marco. All I heard was the echo of Ophelia's words:you were testing me.

Holy fuck.

Is that what I had done?

Testing her to see how she would react when I gave her exactly what she wanted? But didn't that still make this a choice for her? And she chose to leave.

Or had she just walked down the only path she'd ever known, one she’d expected to unfold? Sure, I'd said I loved her, but what did that really mean?

It was just a word.

I knew more than anyone that actions spoke louder than words. How many women had told me that they loved me but had then attempted to use me to get a job, or steal money from me, or fake a pregnancy to lock me down?

And here I was, telling Ophelia I loved her but keeping secrets from her, lying by omission, unfurling an entire plan to see if she would choose something other than me. I said I'd given her a choice, but all I'd really done was set her up.

If this had been a real choice, I would have been honest from the beginning. I would have admitted everything to her when I figured all of this out.

I would have opened up a space beside me and allowed her to walk with me in this journey. We could have exposed Jonathan together, helped Quinton leave together, cover Ophelia's tracks together. That would have been the real choice. Transparency would have allowed her to see and understand the full spectrum of things.

By doing that, I would have showed her the love I felt for her instead of just expressing it in a word that had no backing.

It was duplicitous of me to be go behind her back and assume what choice she would have made, guiding her in that direction, when I could have actually fought for her.

Why the fuck hadn’t I fought for her?

Then and now? I'd just watched her and my daughter walk out of this room, and I'd stood here, doing absolutely nothing to stop it.

A door at the back of the conference room was thrown open. Jonathan, Marco, and Raquel stumbled inside, their words tangled in the middle of an argument. Raquel saw me and spun around.

"Where is she? Where's Ophelia?" Raquel snapped.

Jonathan raised his hands. "Raquel, stop it!"

"I will not!" Raquel shouted. She stormed toward me. "That bitch ruined my husband’s career."

I glanced between them. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"She was at Helen's house," Raquel said. "She went to the bathroom, and I think that she went into Helen's computer and made a copy of the video."

Marco scratched his head. "Helen? Who the fuck is Helen?"

Raquel spun around. "The whore you were cheating on me with! I just wanted a recording of you cheating. So that way, I could divorce your ass and take full custody."

Jonathan's face fell flat. "You were in on that video?"

Marco's jaw dropped. "Raquel, what the fuck? So this is your fault?"

"I'm not an idiot," Raquel snapped. "You can fuck whoever you want if I have a path to working in the White House. Once I saw the video and realized that you were going to rig the votes, I didn't give a fuck."

Jonathan glared at her. "I wired you four hundred grand."

Raquel crossed her arms. "Like you can't afford it. And that was more for Helen, anyways."

"But you said you deleted the video," Jonathan snapped.

"I did—I don't know how Ophelia could have gotten it."

And none of them ever would. I'd covered all of our tracks, and it was clear to me that they had no idea what they were talking about. Jonathan and Marco would be arrested for fraud, and Raquel for blackmail before they'd ever have a chance to figure anything out.

I'd heard enough. More than enough. And I regretted nothing. I pulled the projector’s remote out of my pocket and dropped it on the table.

The echo of the clatter silenced all of three of them.

Jonathan cocked his head. "What the fuck is that, Lorenzo?"

I gave a shrug and feigned shock. "I don't know. I just found it in my pocket."

"How the fuck did that happen?" Marco asked.

Raquel glared at her husband and shook her head. "Oh my God, you are so fucking dumb."

"What?" Marco asked, throwing up his hands.

Jonathan took a handful of calculated steps toward me. His smile had completely vanished. For once in my life since meeting him, I was fairly certain that I was finally seeing the man behind the facade, that I was being granted a peek behind the carefully constructed mask Jonathan always wore.

Without it, all his charm vanished. His eyes seemed to recede into his skull, turning dark and beady, and when he spoke, his lip curled back into a scowl.

"If you had anything to do with this, Lorenzo, you better believe I'll find the proof and take you down."

My laugh vibrated my chest. "Good luck with that."

Spinning on my heel, I strode out of the conference room, hoping that this was the last I'd ever see of these three. Just as Jonathan's mask had dropped, so had mine. Except my mask had blinded me from the truth before me.

I'd spent all this time catering to the likes of Jonathan Calamari, planning a future career that would have permanently linked me to this toxicity.

I didn't approve of Ophelia committing crimes to provide for her daughter, but the dishonesty in that paled compared to what Marco and Jonathan had done and were planning to do. They were immoral, whereas Ophelia's intentions were good.

I'd been dishonest to her, but even worse, I hadn't fought for her, not like I should have.

That was going to change.

She might still turn me away, refuse to see me, keep Cecilia from me, but I had to try with all I had. I had to know that I'd given her two clears paths.

Then she could decide. And only then, if she still didn't choose me, would I finally accept that I would no longer be part of her life.

Even if that happened, I would never stop fighting for Cecilia.

I raced back to my Penthouse, but as I threw the door open, my heart plummeted. Two things were abundantly clear. Ophelia and Cecilia not only weren't here, but Ophelia had planned this ahead of time, even before she'd shown up for the press conference.

The closets were empty, except for the newer stuff I'd bought her. She'd taken everything she'd brought with her when she arrived—and nothing more. But seeing all of the toys I'd bought for Cecilia laying there hurt most.

Where were they?

Any attempt to find that out was pointless. My calls to Ophelia went straight to voicemail. I paced my apartment, fielding calls from reporters, from Jonathan, from my publicist. But the one person I wanted to hear from was the one person not calling me.

Then a text popped up on my phone. It was from Alistair.

Can you come over?

Fuck. I froze, staring at the text. How could I have missed that? Of course, she would have gone to Alistair's.

I didn't wait for a driver this time. I had a sports car—an extremely fast one—for a reason. Grabbing the keys to the Porsche, I bolted out of my apartment and sprinted for the garage.

Alistair's townhouse was normally a thirty minute drive away, but I arrived in less than fifteen. It was by pure luck that I hadn't gotten pulled over. I banged on the front door and was a second way from calling out their names when the lock flipped.

I had expected Ophelia to be standing on the other side, but Alistair appeared alone.

Wrinkles pressed into his forehead and his shoulders were so tense that they were almost up to his ears.

"What's going on?" I gasped. "Where is she? Ophelia? Is she here?"

Alistair rubbed his face and blinked, his sigh endless. He tightened his jacket around him and stepped onto the front steps, closing the door behind him.

He pressed his forehead into his hand. "Fuck."

"Jesus? What, Alistair? Are they here?"

Alistair's hands fell to his sides. "I thought maybe she was with you."

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, what? I'm confused. I thought you told me to come here because they're here."

"Ophelia was here," Alistair said, slipping his hands in his pocket. "And then she left."

My heart skipped. "To where?"

"I was hoping you would know," Alistair said. "She just came here, super emotional, holding back tears, and said she’d made a mistake."