The line goes dead, and I’m left holding the phone in my hand, my chest heaving. An overabundance of emotions charge around my body, fighting for dominance. I close my eyes, trying to make sense of the thoughts racing in my brain, but there’s no peace to be found. Everything is broken, and I don’t know how to even begin to fix it.

Chapter

Forty-Three

NATHAN

Two fucking days I’ve been scouring this city looking for this prick. Like I have nothing better to do with my time. I’ve barely eaten or slept since I got back from Chicago and Mel hit me with her little revelation, and work has been put on the backburner. My secretary is dealing with what she can in my absence, but I need to get back to the office as soon as possible. It’s the only place where everything still makes sense to me. A place where I can have ice in my veins instead of the fire that’s currently burning through them. Once I’ve dealt with this sack of shit, my life might get back to some semblance of normalcy.

Bryce Edison throws back his head and laughs at the blond sitting beside him. She flutters her eyelashes, pretending to hang onto his every word. And I have to assume she’s only pretending because he talks nothing but shit. The fact that he’s evaded me for almost forty-eight hours means Mel must have told him I was onto his fucked-up scheme. Which is only further evidence that she’s a lying, scheming bitch too.

But the fact that he tried to dodge me tells me what a stupid asshole he is. Like there is anywhere in this fucking city, or the entire fucking country for that matter, where he could hide from me. If he’d done any homework on me, he would know that I have contacts everyfuckingwhere. As soon as he popped his little weasel-like head out of whatever hole he was hiding in, my sources were quick to let me know.

Which is why I find myself here, in a bougie little Italian restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen, staring at the man whose life I’m about to ruin. I walk toward the table at the back of the restaurant, tucked away in a corner like he thinks that makes him less conspicuous.

The blond sees me first, and her eyes widen with confusion. I jerk my head toward the door. “Get the fuck out.”

She pouts and looks at Bryce—who, upon hearing my voice, has turned an unnatural shade of gray. “Brycey, you gonna let him talk to me like that?” she whines.

He opens and closes his mouth. Pathetic piece of shit. I glare at him. “Bryce and I are going to have a talk, and I’m sure he doesn’t want one of his whores to hear what I have to say.”

“Get lost, Pammy,” he snaps.

With a dramatic huff, she grabs her shiny pink purse and stomps out of the restaurant. I take a seat opposite him, and Bryce glances nervously around the almost-empty room.

“There’s no help for you here, Brycey. Who do you think told me you were here?”

He swallows hard and shrinks back against the leather bench. “What do you want?”

“I want you to tell me what the fuck you hoped to achieve by having me drugged?”

He shakes his head vigorously from side to side. “I had no idea, I swear. It was all Mel’s idea.”

Unable to stop myself, I lash out and punch him square in the jaw, causing his head to snap back. He wails like a fucking child, clutching his mouth as tears leak from the corners of his eyes. “Don’t fucking lie to me, you useless prick. I know you were there.”

He holds his hands up in surrender, his tongue swiping at the blood welling from the cut on his lip. “Okay, I was there. But it was Mel’s idea. She wanted to fleece you for whatever cash she could, and I just went along with it.”

Motherfucker. I could smash his head into this table right now and not bat an eye. But I ball my hands into fists and stop myself. Everything about him screams lies, and I need the truth.

I roll my neck. “So, that little bitch planned it all, yeah?”

He nods, his eyes flashing with unrestrained glee.

“So she must have known the bartender, Ariana?”

“Yeah. Mel was the one who got in touch with her. I’ve never even met her, Nathan. She gave her the drugs to put in your drink. Must have got them from work or something.”

Fucking liar. I’m also pretty sure they have no need for Rohypnol in a veterinary hospital, but I keep that to myself and feed Bryce more rope to hang himself with. “So what was her endgame? Because that’s the one thing I can’t figure out.”

Bryce leans forward. “Divorce you and get a huge payout, obviously.”

Such bullshit. He lives and breathes the almighty dollar, but not his sister. Nothing about her involvement in this whole shitshow makes sense to me. “Obviously. So you have the pictures, right? Of me and Ariana?”

He runs his tongue along his teeth. “Yeah.”

“And how much to get ahold of these pictures and make sure they never see the light of a courtroom?”

His eyes gleam with delight. “I’m sure we can come to some agreement.”

“What about copies? How can I be sure no one else has them?”

“I have the only copies, and I’ll destroy them. I give you my word.”

I offer him a nod. Like I would believe a single thing that comes out of his mouth,

but for now I’ll let him think I believe his bullshit.

“I hope so, because the last thing I want is for your bitch of a sister to get her hands on a dime of my money, and with those pictures as evidence, she could invoke the morality clause.”

“Exactly. That’s her intention anyway,” he says with a conspiratorial grin.

I suck air between my teeth. Despite my anger toward Mel, the way he’s trying to pin everything on her makes me want to rip his head from his shoulders more than anything he’s done to me. “Except you have the photos, right?”

He blinks. “What?”

“You have the only copies. Not Mel.”

“I-I …” He pulls at the collar of his dress shirt, and a bead of perspiration trickles down his forehead.

“Almost like it was you who set this whole thing up and not her. Was the plan to blackmail me if she didn’t accuse me of adultery? Because without her doing that, you have nothing. You do know that, right? You think I give a fuck if some pictures of a woman lying next to me while I’m asleep in bed are leaked, you stupid fuck?”

“I knew she was fucking useless,” he spits, and for a second I wonder which she he’s referring to, Ariana or Melanie. “All she had to do was let you fuck her for a few months and then do what she was fucking told. I handed her a fucking out and she throws it back in my face.”

That was his chance to tell me that the photos show more than Ariana said they would, but he didn’t, proving she was telling the truth. Sitting back in my seat, I fold my arms across my chest while he spews a diatribe of venom toward his sister that further confirms she knew nothing about what was going to happen in Chicago. And while that makes me feel a little better, it doesn’t change the fact that she lied to my face when we got married. Yeah, she might have changed her mind once we started fucking, but she married me with the intention of setting me up to cheat on her. All so she could divorce me and get her hands on a few million for this pathetic fuck.

And that’s exactly what he is, pathetic.

Once he’s finished with his little tantrum, I lean forward and plant my hands on the table in front of me, feeling calmer than I have in days. “You’re over, Bryce. I am going to fucking ruin you. There won’t be a single investor who will come near you or your company with a ten-foot pole. You are finished in this city. In this country. So enjoy your last few weeks as the big man living on whatever remaining dollars you’ve squirreled away because it’s all about to come to a grinding halt.”

If he had any sense at all, he would’ve saved some of the money he’s stolen from Edison Holdings in offshore accounts, but I did enough digging into him before I married his sister to know he wasn’t even smart enough to do that.

He opens and closes his mouth. “Nathan. No, please. We need investors. Our company won’t survive.” As I expected, the loss of status and privilege, only afforded to him by his father, is what hurts him the most. More than me beating the shit out of him. More than going to jail. It’s the money he can’t live without.

“That’s kind of the point. And you won’t be able to bleed the company dry,” I say with a smile. “So like I said, enjoy the good life while you can, because I’m coming for you, Bryce.”

His lip wobbles like he’s about to have another epic tantrum. Having no desire to stick around and witness it, I offer him a final victorious wink and walk away.

Bryce is ruined; he’s got nothing left. I got the truth. I won. So, why do I still feel like I lost?