Chapter 30—The News

The sound of the door creaking had Ivette stirring from her sleep, but what had her eyes snapping open was when someone cussed softly. “Hell Cian, learn to lock the door!”

“Knock before entering, Fio,” Cian said softly as his hands tightened around Ivette. She hid her face in his chest and drew up the covers to hide her nakedness after murmuring a quick, “Morning, Fiona.”

“Breakfast in fifteen. Da is waiting. Doona make me come back here to drag both your asses downstairs!” she squealed before slipping out the door.

“Morning lass,” Cian purred and she shivered at the silky caress of it against her sin. She smiled against his chest and darted out a tongue to lick the slick pane of it, giggling. He tasted like salt, citrus and man. It was erotic and intoxicating.

He groaned and in a split second, he was stretched atop her, nuzzling her neck. Laughing, she threw her hands about him, bringing his head to her bare chest. “We should go down for breakfast soon.”

“Hmm,” he murmured and the vibration of his chest went all the way to her toes, curling them. `“Breakfast can wait.”

Oh, this man, Ivette thought to herself, as his gentle nuzzling turned into frantic kisses. She couldn’t get enough of him, and it seemed she wasn’t alone in this because he couldn’t seem to get enough of her. His lips met with hers and it was just as explosive as the first time.

Just when the kiss began to grow intense, Fiona’s voice cleaved through the moment and Cian broke away, leaving her absolutely breathless. “Five minutes, Cian!”

His forehead dropped against hers and it was right about the most intimate thing ever; foreheads touching; sharing breaths in the peaceful silence; soft caresses of both his hands and the soft morning breeze. She never wanted to leave his arms.

“You’re mine now, lass,” he said, and it was more of a request than it was a sentence.

“Yes,” she affirmed.

****

She should have stayed up with Cian and not come down for breakfast. Perhaps, if she had done that, she would not have seen the damned news.

“Bland,” Cian’s grandfather, Silvan, had been telling her when she offered to make him coffee. The man had smiled when he saw her alight the stairs with her fingers entwined with Cian’s. It had been heartwarming. She didn’t have to worry about his approval of their relationship, because he seemed duly pleased.

So did the rest of Cian’s family.

The males had clapped his shoulder for the first five minutes and given her a bear hug with a ‘thank you’ attached to it.

It had been a great morning generally, until she had been filling up Silvan’s cup and Drew had exclaimed from the sitting room, “Look. It’s aunt Ivy. She’s on the TV with uncle!”

It had gone downhill from there.

Standing in front of the TV, Ivette shook. She could not tell if it was due to fear or anger.

She was on every news channel; the face of every breaking news. She had been spotted last night with Cian at Ceilidh. Worse yet, someone had taken a picture of the brief kiss they had shared on their way out of the gathering.

Great.

She could tell just how much shit she was in when she noted Cian frowning at his tab’s screen. His jaw clenched as he slid up the screen and she soon found out why when Silvan switched to a different channel.

A female presenter stood in the parking lot of her company and Ivette’s gut clenched at the sight of the tall building that had once been her haven. “After the scandal between the King Corp. Heiress and multi-billionaire Cian MacGregor was brought to light in the early hours of this morning, it has been reported that the stock prices have fallen greatly, leading to numerous losses. It can be seen that the investors have begun to pull out of—“

Ivette stopped hearing when the camera zoomed in on Alden King’s face. He had aged so much since she last saw him. His eyes were lined with wrinkles and dark circles, and his suit was askew like he hadn’t enough time or presence to pay attention to his appearance. Never had she seen her father look so haggard.

She saw resignation in his eyes and fatigue. Somewhere behind him, she could see her mother urging him forward. Her face was a mask of cool and calm, as always, but Ivette knew the raging storm that lurked beneath the surface.

Her breaths came harder and faster as she watched her parents meander through the teeming crowd of paparazzi. She shouldn’t have left. Everything was ruined.

To make matters worse, the scenery shifted and there stood Aaron getting interviewed by the press. Ivette’s lip quivered as he took a stand to answer their questions. Usually, Aaron would avoid giving direct answers to the press, but there he was, speaking with a solemn expression. With each word that left his lips, Ivette grew more and more convinced that he had prepared for his speech.

It was in his confident poise, the ease with which he spoke without a single pause or blink. She had known him for years—lived with him too to understand when he was faking it.

And he was.

She had an inkling that he had something to do with it. He had kept to his word to ruin her name and company if she backed out of the wedding, and he had followed through with it. How he had managed it, she had no idea, but this was his way of saying, “Fuck you, Ivette.”

The screen went off and she felt Cian’s steady warmth beside her. “Lass,” he began slowly and carefully like he knew she was only moments away from a meltdown.

She refused to look at him, or the rest of his family that were gathered in the sitting room. She headed for the staircase and she all but ran until she was in the comfort of her room, shuddering as tears fell from her eyes.

This was all her fault. She had run like the stupid coward she was and it had resulted in this mess. What had she expected? To hide in the clan house forever? To never face the life she left behind again? How truly pathetic she had become. It was only a matter of time before the losses threw them into bankruptcy, and the one who stood a chance to gain from her ruin was Aaron.

She knew that if she looked at Maxwell Industries' stock prices and performance, she would find that it had skyrocketed in the past hour.

She had done this to herself and her family.

How the mighty had fallen.

Cian shut the door behind him and took quick strides in her direction. “Ivy,” he said, reaching for her arm, but she raised a hand, not trusting herself to act right in the current situation. She was angry at everything and everyone, but most of all, she was angry at herself.

“This isn’t your fault—“

Swivelling, Ivette raged, crying. “It is! Do not try to downplay it or make me feel better, because I know who made this happen. I did. I never should have run. I never should have come here. I left! Everything is falling apart because I left!”

Cian grabbed her arm and pulled her into his arms. She wrestled against him, feeling undeserving of the warmth and care his arm offered her. She had known it was all an illusion. She had known the happiness would be short-lived. Her life sucked, and she had dared to hope for a change. A chance. For that, she was a fool.

Cian held her as she trashed against him, whispering in her ear that it would be alright, and though she didn’t want to believe him, the words settled deep within her, appealing to the places within her that had been overwhelmed by fear and despair.

Burying her head in his chest and drying her tears with his shirt, she said, “I need to talk to father.

He pulled back and stared deeply at her. “You’re sure?”

Ivette sniffed, wiping the tear from her cheek as she nodded.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and handed it to her. Heading out, he said, “I will be outside, by the door.”

Ivette smiled lightly, grateful for his thoughtfulness, but it was not enough to curb the dread that gripped her as she punched in the digits she had grown so accustomed to over the years.

He picked up on the first ring. “Alden King speaking,” he said, though, it sounded more like an impatient growl.

She swallowed, clenching her fists and sucking in deep breaths. “Father.”

The silence thereafter was unnerving, and Ivette would have thought he hung up, were it not for the gentle hum she heard from his end.

“You ruined everything.”

Those were his first words to her in weeks, and Ivette found herself bawling again as she said, “I’m sorry.”

“How could you?”

The outright accusation and betrayal in his voice had her sobbing harder. “You pushed me, Dad. You forced my hand.”

Silence, and then, “You are all kinds of daft, Ivette.”

“I’d rather have been daft than marry a man who sees me as nothing but a business opportunity—“

“And I suppose the Scottish fool spoke such sweet lies that had you running from everything Aaron Maxwell had to offer and opening your legs for him. Did he promise you love? Did he promise you never to use you as I have?”

It felt like a knife had been plunged into her heart, ripped out, and plunged in again. “I hate you,” Ivette said and meant it.

“Aaron has offered to buy the company to avoid its further ruination.”

Ivette reeled back, stunned. “What?”

“Tomorrow, I will hand over King Corp to Aaron. Your foolishness has yielded this. This is the only way—“

“YOU AGREED TO SELL THE COMPANY?!!” Ivette’s voice carried well across the room, echoing back to the point where she stood a few feet away from her bed.

“If you have a better suggestion, do bring it to my notice and I suggest you do it before the meeting.”

He hung up. Ivette stared at the phone, trying to comprehend everything. Aaron. She would break the bastard’s perfect nose. How convenient was it that everything played perfectly well for him?

She couldn’t let it happen. She had to get back to Seattle before the meeting.