"Fuck you."
Her eyes turn to the floor. "It's possible."
"You're making a fool of yourself." I bite my tongue. I could walk out now. But I can't yet. Not until Samantha understands how wrong she is. "I know it hurts, but you have to accept that you're wrong. I love her and she loves me. It has nothing to do with her looks or my money, or my looks for that matter."
"I loved you. I know you. We went through so much together. She'll never understand you."
"No. You'll never understand me. Because you're selfish. You'll never know how it feels to really love someone. I feel sorry for you, because it's lonely when everyone else is just some pawn for you to manipulate. But you know what? Not me. Not anymore."
"Luke, please..." She clutches her purse, her eyes filling with tears.
"We're both so much better off this way," I say.
She wails, something about how I'm wrong, but I don't care anymore.
She's nothing to me now.
And she's never going to get between me and Alyssa again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The rest of the day dredges by. It takes all the willpower I have not to pull out my phone and call Alyssa. But I have to wait until I'm sure she's ready. She won't take another false start.
By the evening I'm lost in work. It's comfortable. Easy.
But Ryan has to interrupt my zen. He calls me into the office. No, he has Janine, our assistant, ask me to go to his office.
He's sitting at his desk, his hands folded, his expression calm. He nods for me to sit.
I don't.
His neutral expression fades. "You shouldn't discuss personal matters with clients."
I smirk. "I have my methods and you have yours."
"It's not professional."
"So dissolve the firm. You can be as professional as you want."
He moves towards a filing cabinet and pulls out some legal document. "Sell me your half." He hands me the document.
It's a contract to sell the firm. Everyone is trying to buy half of what's mine today.
"You know I won't sell," I say. "There's a non-compete clause in our partnership agreement."
"I won't enforce it."
"No."
He narrows his eyes. "I'm not going to dissolve. The only way out of this impasse is you selling your half of the firm."
"No."
He offers me a look of pity. "I can manage my feelings, but it's clear that you're not able to stay professional while working with me."
I grit my teeth. "Is that so?"
"Yes," he says. "We've had our disagreements, but I do respect... your way with clients. I'm not holding on to what happened with Alyssa."
"Dissolve. You won't appease any of my clients if I sell."
He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "You're not as hard to replace as you think you are. There are plenty of attractive men in Los Angeles. Plenty who are more dependable."
I bite my tongue. He's trying to get a rise out of me. I won't give it to him.
His brow furrows. "I'd rather not stay in a business partnership with someone who takes off for weeks without notice."
"That won't happen again."
"Really?"
"Yes. Really."
He smirks. "Did Samantha finally get rid of you once and for all?"
I throw him a fake smile. "You could put it like that."
"Good for you."
I slam the paper onto his desk. "I'm not selling."
He shakes his head. "This is the best option for both of us."
"Even so."
He offers me another pitying look. His words come out like a lecture. "I've been patient. I've tried to give you a chance to turn things around. But it's not happening. Now, is there any way you can be convinced?"
"No."
He taps his fingers against the desk. "You can leave Los Angeles. Start a practice in San Francisco. The non-compete is only for L.A. County."
"I have reasons to stay here."
He raises his eyebrows. "Really?"
"Yes, really."
"Come on, Luke. You may be romantic, but you aren't this naive. Alyssa isn't going to stick around."
"Mind your own business."
"Like you did when you slept with my fiancée?"
I bite my lip to keep from smiling.
He narrows his eyes. "I'm sure the passion is intoxicating. Lust always is. But we both know you and Alyssa aren't going to last."
"Do we?"
"Yes, we do." He picks up the offer and places it in my hands. "So sell, move somewhere else, and get on with your life."
I set the paper on the desk. "It's not happening."
He smiles. "You know, I saw her this morning."
My fingers curl into fists. He's got such a smug look on his face. He thinks he knows what Alyssa wants. He thinks he can come between us.
"She was rushing out of the condo," he says. "And she looked upset."
"If you touched her, I swear--"
"You don't have the moral ground to swear on that."
He is so fucking calm. How can he always be so calm when he's talking about me stealing his fiancée?
His voice is even. "What if I did touch her? What if I brought her back to my place and I fucked her all morning?"
I dig my nails into my palms. There's no way Alyssa would fuck Ryan. She's been done with him for a long time.
"What would you do if she decided she wanted to go back to me?" he asks.
"You're dreaming."
"Even so." He smirks. "She looked good. And with you two fighting, I bet she'd love a distraction."
He's fucking with me. She wants nothing to do with him.
Still, the thought flashes across my mind like a bolt of lightning. It's such a sickening image--him on top of her, thrusting away in missionary while she lies there bored out of her mind.
I shake my head. Ryan isn't worth the fight. I'll have Alyssa soon. I'll have everything I want.
"She has better taste than that," I say.
He shakes his head. "Do you have any clue how many times she begged me to touch her? How she would look at me with those big, blue eyes and plead. Please, Ryan, just tonight. Please."
A tension builds in my chest. "Shut the fuck up."
"Do you have any clue how desperate she was when we finally had sex? How many times we did it? How loud she would scream?"
I suck the air between my teeth. He's not going to get a rise out of me.
"It's not something I'm interested in," I say.
He laughs. "You know, for a charming guy, you really are pathetic. You think you're the first good-looking guy Alyssa has used for sex?"
My fists curl into tight balls. "I'm not interested in rehashing her past."
"I bet. Because based on it, the future is pretty grim for you. She's about due to get bored with you and throw you away like the garbage you are."
"And what does that make you?"
"You don't know her like I do. I've been her friend for ten years now. I've been the person she can count on. You really think three months of sex is enough to make her love you? You really think she'd stay with you after you abandoned her to take care of Samantha?"
I press my nails into my fingers. I can stay calm here. I can be the bigger person.
"You filled a void. That's it. I'm sure by now she wants to go back to someone who knows how to take care of her."
"Like you?"
"Maybe. But certainly not someone like you," he says.
I try to push this anger down, but it won't budge. This is all his fault. He hurt her so much... if he hadn't hurt her...
"She loves me," I say.
"Please. She loves you like a high school student loves her boyfriend. Do you even do anything besides fuck and talk about me?"
I lunge towards him, grabbing his collar and shaking him. "She loves me."
Ryan doesn't move. He doesn't blink. "Believe whatever helps you sleep at night. Though we both know you aren't capable of that either."
This is all his fault.
I pull my arm back and drive it into his face. It lands with a thud, a crack of bones and flesh.
He's going to hurt as much as I do.
He pushes me back and throws a punch of his own. Pathetic, as usual. I pull my arm back and unload again, driving my fist into his stupid face over and over. Until everything around me is a blur of flailing limbs and all I feel is the smack of my knuckles against his bones.
***
"I'm sorry." It's Janine, in the lobby, talking to someone else.
It went so fast--Janine screaming, her hands curling around my biceps as she tried to pull me off Ryan. The stupid look in his eyes--like he was glad, like this proved he's better than I am once and for all.
"Should I call the police?"
"No. It won't look good. Even if it would help get rid of him. Besides, I don't want to waste the time pressing charges."
"But Mr. Knight. He attacked you. You shouldn't allow him to hurt you like that."
"It's nothing. Barely a scratch. Just take him to his office and give him these. He'll calm down. Maybe for once he'll regain his senses."
He handed her a bottle of pills. A prescription with Alyssa's name on it. Some anti-anxiety medication. Something he used to keep her drugged, so she'd better fit the role he wanted for her.
And I shrugged Janine off. "If you're going to kiss his ass, you might as well just offer to fuck him."
She gasped, pretending she was scandalized. But her eyes flashed with delight. She'd been thinking about it for ages. "Mr. Lawrence. I would never..."
"I'll leave when I'm finished with my paperwork."
"Should I call Marcus?"
My law school friend who lives in New York. My supposed emergency contact. I see him occasionally, but there's nothing he could do now.
"Don't call anyone. I'm an adult. I can take care of myself."
She looked at me with pity. A look she learned from Ryan, no doubt. She shook her head, tsk tsking like a teacher scolding her second-grade student.
We settle our disagreements with words, not fists.
But she lost interest as soon as I closed the door. Probably skittered back to Ryan's office to suck up again. Poor girl has no idea he'd never date his secretary. Wouldn't look right. Wouldn't appear professional.
He deserved this.
But that doesn't matter anymore.
Yes, Ryan is an asshole. Yes, he hurt Alyssa. Hell, he hurt me plenty of times with his judgment and his constant attempts to drag me back here for every minute of my life.
But I am an adult.
However awful he is, however much I hate him, however good it might feel, it does me no good to hit him.
Yes, Alyssa would have been mine so much sooner if he hadn't fucked with her so royally. But she's not mine right now, and Ryan had nothing to do with it.
I have to take responsibility for my decisions and my mistakes.
This time, I was the one who hurt Alyssa.
But I'm not going to wallow. I'm going to make it up to her.
"I didn't know who else to call. Mr. Lawrence sometimes has lunch with a college friend--a Mark--but he lives in New York."
"It's okay."
My heart thuds against my chest. It's Alyssa
Fuck. She isn't going to like this. She's got some silly idea that I'm holding on to the past.
Ridiculous, I know.
The door to the office opens. Even now, even though we're separated, she's still a beam of light in my gray existence.
She has pity in her eyes. But there's something else there. An affection.
Like she thinks it's cute I resorted to hurting Ryan. Like my defending her honor is endearing.
Who am I kidding? It wasn't for her. It was for me--because I hate that fucker and his stupid face. It's not just because he hurt her, but because he hurt me, because I had to see his ugly face every day for three years. Because I have to see every asshole he represents--another fucker who ruined his wife's life, who took away everything that ever mattered to her and tried to take away her kids and house too.
I hate him because he is my asshole father, only thirty years younger and infinitely less charismatic. I've tried watching everything I care about get taken away. I've tried holding on for dear life, and it hasn't done me a bit of good.
There's no sense in holding on to anything that isn't Alyssa.
She looks me over. A tiny smile spreads across her lips. I feel her fingers against my cheek. It's a dull pain, but it feels good all the same.
"I thought I was the one with issues," she says.
I shake my head. "I was defending your honor."
"Uh-huh."
I nod. She melts, her eyes filling with affection.
She runs her fingers down my chin. "Did he at least start it?"
"It depends on your definition of 'start it.'"
She sighs. "What the hell am I going to do with you?"
"Kiss me."
She holds my gaze for a minute like she's considering it. She runs her fingers through my hair, moving closer to me. Then her eyes flutter closed. Mine follow, and it's just her lips on my lips. And all the need inside me is pouring into her.
When we break, I'm breathless. I hold her gaze. "I love you."
"I know." She wraps her arms around me. "But I really don't know what I'm going to do with you."
"I don't care about anything but being with you."
"Your black eye disagrees," she says.
"My fist cares about smashing Ryan's face, but you can hardly blame me for that."
She laughs, shaking her head. It's sweet. Genuine. Like it amuses her more than it upsets her.
"Come on," she says, "I'll take you home."
She offers her hand, and I soak in the feeling of it, just in case this is the last time.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE