Chapter 11

The ride to the office was a silent and awkward one. Quinn focused her attention outside the window. She hadn't looked at Michael since they left her apartment. For the umpteenth time, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. The thought of being with any man hadn't occurred to her. Men had always been a secondary desire in her life. Hell, she wasn't even sure about that. It was the reason she bought a vibrator and had never looked back. All she wanted out of life was a successful career as a painter and a peaceful life with her friends and her family.

She'd never thought kids or a husband. She'd certainly never thought wife. That was why when Michael had said he wanted all of her, she'd been overwhelmed with fright. This wasn't part of the plan, wanting all of anything.

He was way above her league. The man was worth over five billion US dollars and all she had was...nothing. There weren't any grounds for emotions. She wasn't his type anyway. He was only fucking her until he got bored. She envisioned models with long legs and rich heiresses. After all, he'd been fucking the woman on his desk that day. Had he told her too that he wanted all of her?

"Quinn." He called.

She turned her head to him at the sound of his voice, instantly wishing she hadn't when those blue orbs drew her in.

"I realize that I might've came on too strong. I'm sorry."

He was sorry. Sorry for what exactly? Telling her he wanted all of her or actually wanting all of her?

"It's fine. I've forgotten about it."

But she hadn't. It was ingrained in her brain that he wanted more than she could give. The question was, how much was she willing to give?

The look he gave her told her that he didn't believe her, but he didn't push. It was welcome as she didn't think she wanted to talk any further.

The driver pulled into the building's garage now. Not long after, they were in the elevator heading to the top floor. At the office, Quinn acted like the example secretary, adding the required 'Sir' at the end of every statement, not speaking unless she was spoken to. It particularly felt like she had to do it more than usual because things were somewhat weird between them. There were only two people in the elevator with them and she wondered, not for the first time, if they thought it weird that a secretary arrived at exactly the same time with her boss. She supposed it wasn't much of a big deal, depending on how one looked at it. But seeing as he had kind of picked her up and she was kind of fucking the boss, it was a big deal to her.

She avoided his eyes, somehow finding the elevator buttons more interesting. When the elevator pinged for the third floor, she got out.

Meeting his eyes and ignoring the question in them, she headed straight for the lounge. She was on edge, but it was nothing a cup of coffee wouldn't solve.

Thankfully, someone had already brewed a fresh batch, so she just grabbed a mug and poured herself some. It tasted so good, doing the most to calm her stressed out nerves. She swore, Michael was out to kill her. The tension between them was so palpable; a knife could've cut through it.

The last person she needed to see was the person that approached her.

"Quinn, was it?"

A feeling of déjà vu washed through her. Her palms were sweaty, and she dropped her mug so it wouldn't fall out of her hands.

"Hmm," Quinn shook her head. "I don't remember telling you my name."

Her hair was a ginger red; Quinn could see it so clearly now that she was standing close to her.

She laughed, flipping her hair. "It's an office. Everybody knows everyone."

"That's funny. I don't know you. In fact, I've never seen you before. What is it you do around here?"

It was a lie. She had seen her before, under Michael the first day she'd resumed. It was the woman he'd been fucking. She was working in the office too. Quinn was suddenly pissed off. At Michael, at the redhead for some reason and mostly, at herself.

"I'm June." The laugh she let out was so fake, China would've been jealous. "I work in finance."

Quinn smiled but she was sure her lips didn't move. What did she want?

"So two weeks, huh?" June continued. "That's the longest any woman has lasted on the first floor since Delia."

Delia. Who was that? Quinn had never heard that name before.

"Who's Delia?" She hadn't wanted to ask but something had pushed her.

June giggled. "Oh, he didn't tell you? She was the love of his life."

Love of his life. The words rang in her ears like a bell. Was there someone else? June did say 'was' as in past tense. If she wasn't in his life, where was she now? Did he still love her?

"I'm not surprised he didn't tell you." June continued with a smirk. "I mean, considering you're his new plaything. He wouldn't want to chase you away now, would he?"

Quinn's body felt weirdly cold. Was he using her—and all the other women he was fucking to forget this Delia woman? Not only that, but she’d also requested for exclusivity, and he'd accepted. Had he lied? Still, it wouldn't do to not respond to the accusations even if they were true.

"Plaything, what the fuck are you talking about?" She asked, adding as much force to her tone as possible to make it believable. She was probably his plaything but July or whatever was her name had no right to call her that.

"What, you think I don't notice how you're both always together? How you leave the office together sometimes and how you even arrived here together at the same time today? You think I'm stupid? You might have succeeded in fooling the rest of the company but not me." The look in her eyes was dark and her face twisted angrily but all it did was make her ugly and even though Quinn would rather chew hot charcoal than admit it, she wasn't an ugly woman.

"Let's say you're right. Let's say I was actually his plaything. Why are you so pained? Did you stupidly fall in love with him?" She asked with a sneer.

June's breathing was heavy. She didn't answer, only stared at her. Her eyes were hooded and after a few seconds, she looked away.

When the penny dropped, Quinn's jaw did too. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

She reached out a hand, but June bypassed it.

"Don't." Her voice cracked and Quinn saw a tear fall. "He'll only use you until he's had his fill. And when he has, it's goodbye Quinn and hello new plaything."

She walked away then, leaving her words ringing in the air. Quinn swallowed the huge lump in her throat, feeling her own breathing constrict. What has she put herself into? Here was another woman Michael had used and done away with. Surely they had an agreement very much like the one he had with her. June was in love with him. Quinn couldn't imagine how it felt for her to see him with another woman and know that he was giving her so freely what he'd given June.

If Quinn had been having any doubts as to whether Michael cared for her or not, they were cleared now.

———

"Who's Delia?" She asked, marching into his office.

Michael's head shot up faster than the speed of light. "What?"

"Don't play dumb with me. Who is Delia?"

He blinked. "Where did you hear that name?"

Quinn raised a brow. "Oh, so you do know who she is."

He leaned back. She could see his jaw clenching so hard she thought his teeth would break. "I can assure you, Quinn, that this is not a road you want to go down."

"Was she in love with you too?" Quinn pressed. He was hiding something. Why couldn't he have just answered the question?

"Too?" His brows scrunched together. "What the hell do you mean, too?"

She paused, taking a deep breath. "June."

The look of surprise on his face was alarming. "Who the fuck is June?"

He didn't even remember her name. Quinn scoffed. He really was just using them. "June from finance. The lady you were fucking the first day I walked into your office?"

"Shit." He whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose. His lips stretched in a thin line, and he had a grim look on his face. "I didn't know she was in love with me."

Quinn stared at him for the longest time. "What would you have done otherwise?"

He sighed, closing his eyes for a second before opening them again. "Quinn, all the women I get involved with know that there are no strings attached. June knew that too. I made it clear. It's not my fault she fell in love with me. I certainly didn't encourage it."

"Yeah?" She nodded question. "Just like you're not encouraging me to fall for you by telling me you want all of me?"

"That was different." He said with force. "You're different."

Quinn laughed humorlessly. "That's the plan, isn't it? That's how you worm your way into different hearts. Make them fall for you and then disappear so you won't be there to catch them. It's all a chase for you, isn't it? Do you get high off the thrill?"

"Quinn!" He thundered, getting up. "Shut the fuck up."

He had no right to tell her what to do.

"Don't tell me what to do, Michael. I'm not one of your playthings." She threw the word at him, satisfied when he winced. It was the same word June had thrown at her.

He stalked towards her. "What we have, you and I, June and I didn't have it. We had sex a couple of times and that was it. I never promised her anything and I never desired her, not as I do you. I never wanted more than sex."

Oh, how she almost believed him. How she wanted to take in his words like they were true. But she didn't. He was a liar and a deceiver, and he'd deceived her.

"What do you want from me?" She asked him, her eyes suddenly watering.

He shook his head, grabbing her hands. "I don't know, Quinn. Everything and nothing at all."

The lump in her throat started to reduce. She was finally starting to realize how things were and where she stood. She'd been so blinded by the things he said and did and the things she wanted to believe. Never before had she allowed herself to so completely open up to a man.

Everything he'd said, everything he'd done, all of it were just to make her fall for him so she could keep fucking him. Maybe he'd wanted to clear his conscience by spending on her was why he kept pushing as much as he did.

"Who is Delia?"

He paused. "I don't want to talk about her. She's in my past."

"Are you still fucking her?" She pressed on, unrelenting.

"Quinn—"

"Do you still love her?"

"Quinn, stop!" He yelled, letting go of her hands. "You don't have any right to ask me anything! We're not together. I don't owe you any explanations."

Dread washed over her. There he was. He'd finally said it. He didn't owe her anything. The fact that it hurt didn't mean it wasn't true. It was. She'd been in way over her head thinking he actually gave a fuck about her. He didn't. All of this was just some game to him. He'd used her. It was as clear as day now.

"I see it now. I see it so clearly." She murmured, as a tear fell down her face. The hurt in her heart made her chest ache and she wished she'd never gotten involved with him.

She couldn't trust him. She couldn't trust that he would keep to their agreement.

There was nowhere else to go from here; there was no moving from this. So she opened her mouth and said the one thing she should've said a few days ago.

"I'm done."