Chapter 17 Seventeen
THANE DEVEREUX
I was in my corner office, sixty floors above the streets of Manhattan. The sky outside was grey. I placed my large hands flat against the cold, thick glass and stared directly at my own reflection.
I looked at my eyes. They were a sharp, piercing, icy blue. I had seen these exact eyes in the mirror every single day of my life. But yesterday, I saw them looking back at me from the face of a four-year-old boy. Leo.
The thought had me pressing my jaw together until my back teeth ground in warning. The muscles in my neck pulled tight. I thought about the file Jaxson had sent over.
The file on Dr. Lia Solene. It was completely spotless. It had no mistakes. It was too clean. It was a fake.
My logical brain told me that my ex-wife was dead. My brain told me she died in a burning car at the bottom of a freezing river five years ago. But my blood was screaming a completely different story. My blood told me she just walked right back into my life, wearing a white suit and carrying my children.
I looked down at my hands.
My knuckles were bone white from gripping the edge of my heavy mahogany desk. I took a deep, slow breath, feeling a massive, dark hunger expanding in my chest. I had not felt this kind of hunger in five years.
I wanted to break down her walls. I wanted to corner her. It disgusted me, because I did not know if I wanted to ruin her or pull her against my body.
A sharp beep cut through the quiet room.
"Mr. Devereux," Sarah, my secretary, said over the intercom. Her voice was crisp and strictly professional. "The board members from Apex Technologies are waiting in the main conference room. It is time for the merger meeting."
"I am coming," I answered simply. My voice was a low, heavy rumble in my chest.
I turned away from the glass and adjusted the cuffs of my suit jacket before burying the ghost of my wife in the back of my mind. I had a company to gut.
I walked down the long, almost-empty hallway. I pushed open the heavy double doors of the boardroom. The air inside the room was freezing cold. It smelled like dark roast coffee and expensive leather.
Twelve men in black suits sat around the massive mahogany table. They stood up immediately when I walked in. I did not tell them to sit. I walked to the head of the table and took my seat before I placed my hands flat on the smooth wood. I looked at the CEO of Apex Technologies.
His name was Marcus and for some reason he was sweating.
"Let us begin," I said.
Marcus started talking. He talked fast. He threw out large numbers and projected revenue charts. He tried to sound confident, but I could sense the unease inside him. He adjusted his silk tie three times in two minutes.
I was the best closer in this city because I did not negotiate. I dictated. My memory was flawless. I had absolutely no fear of walking away. I watched Marcus talk. I did not nod. I did not smile. I used silence as a weapon. I let the silence stretch out until the air in the room felt too thick to breathe. Marcus stumbled over his words, then he started to panic.
"Page forty-two," I said, cutting him off mid-sentence. My voice was not loud, but it stopped him completely. "Section four. Clause seven."
Marcus looked down at his thick stack of papers. He swallowed hard.
"You inserted a retention clause for your international data patents," I stated. I kept my eyes locked directly on his sweating face. "That was not our agreement. You are trying to hide your most valuable asset from this acquisition."
"Thane, we feel that the international patents are a separate entity—"
"I am taking the international patents," I interrupted. I leaned forward. My heavy chest pressed against the edge of the table. "I am taking the patents, and I am cutting your final payout by ten percent for trying to hide them. You will sign the revised contract right now, or I will walk out of this room. If I walk out, I will ensure your stock tanks by Friday morning. You will be bankrupt before the weekend."
Marcus stared at me. He saw the cold, flat truth in my blue eyes. He picked up his expensive silver pen when he saw I wasn't giving in to his rubbish. His hand shook as he signed the paper.
I won. I secured a multi-billion dollar deal. But as I watched him sign, my mind suddenly flashed to the hospital lobby. I saw the sharp line of Dr. Solene’s jaw. I saw the small, dark mole resting on the pale skin of her neck. I wondered what her skin felt like. I wondered if it was as soft as it looked. I wondered how she would sound if I pressed my mouth against that exact spot.
Marcus stood up and offered his hand. I stood up. I shook his hand. It felt like a massive victory to my board members, but to me, it tasted like dry ash.
The boardroom cleared out quickly. The men scurried away like rats. I stood alone in the quiet room. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. I had one missed call from Jaxson. I dialed his number back immediately.
He answered on the first ring.
"Tell me you broke the wall," I demanded.
"We hit a wall, Thane," Jaxson said. His voice was heavy with pure frustration. "There is a massive security block on her international records. It is military-grade encryption. Someone incredibly powerful, with endless money, is protecting her identity. I cannot get past the Zurich servers."
A hot, violent temper flared instantly in my gut. My jaw locked. I gripped the phone so hard the metal edges dug painfully into my palm.
"I do not accept walls," I growled. My voice was a low, dangerous threat. It vibrated deeply in my chest. "Hire the best hackers on the eastern seaboard. Pay them double their rate. Pay them triple. I do not care about the money. I want the absolute truth. I want to know who is hiding her."
"I am on it," Jaxson said.
I ended the call. I slammed the phone down onto the hard mahogany table. The sharp crack echoed loudly. The silence that followed was deafening.
An hour later, I walked into my penthouse.
It was a massive space. It featured dark steel, black marble, and modern white furniture. It was perfectly clean, but it was suffocatingly quiet. It felt like an expensive tomb.
I took off my suit jacket and dropped it on the back of a leather chair. Then I unbuttoned the top two buttons of my shirt.
Camilla walked out of the master hallway.
She was waiting for me. She wore a sheer, black silk robe. It was incredibly expensive. It left nothing to the imagination. She wore heavy diamond earrings.
A thick cloud of her heavy floral perfume hit my nose from ten feet away. It smelled incredibly sweet. It smelled like artificial sugar and dying roses. It coated the back of my throat and made my stomach turn.
"You are home late," Camilla said. She walked toward me. Her bare feet padded softly against the cold marble floor. Her voice was high and breathy.
She stopped right in front of me. She reached her arms up. She tried to wrap her thin arms around my thick neck.
I looked down at her face. I stood perfectly still. I tried to feel a single spark of desire. I tried to feel the heat of a man looking at his beautiful fiancée. But I felt absolutely nothing. Her beauty was obvious, but it felt incredibly thin. It felt like looking at a plastic mannequin in a storefront window. It was a copy. It was empty.
I thought about the doctor. I thought about the raging, untamed fire burning inside Dr. Solene’s stormy gray eyes. I thought about the way she stood her ground against me, holding her spine rigid like a queen commanding an army. Camilla was needy. Camilla begged for my attention. The doctor demanded my submission.
Camilla pushed her body flush against my chest. I felt the heat of her skin through my cotton shirt, but it only made my muscles lock in deep revulsion. She tilted her head back. She moved in to kiss my mouth. Her soft hands slid down my neck and rested flat against my chest.
I raised my large hands. I grabbed both of her wrists. I did not squeeze hard enough to bruise her, but my grip was unyielding iron. I gently, but very firmly, pulled her hands off my body. I took one deliberate step backward, putting cold air between us.
"Not tonight, Camilla," I said. My voice was completely flat. "My head is elsewhere."
Camilla’s arms dropped to her sides. The sweet, seductive smile vanished from her lips. Her dark eyes hardened before her fingernails dug sharply into her own palms.
"Is it work?" Camilla pushed. Her voice rose in pitch. She took a step toward me. "Or is it her? Is it that arrogant doctor? Are you thinking about her?"
I looked at her angry face. I did not change my expression.
"No," I lied smoothly.
But my body language betrayed my words. My chest was heaving. The pulse in my jaw was jumping frantically. I did not offer her comfort. I did not reach out to touch her cheek. I turned my back on her.
"I have work to do," I said.
I walked away. I made my way down the hall and stepped into my private study and shut the door, leaving her standing entirely alone in the middle of the cold, empty living room.