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Remaining expressionless takes more strength than I’d like to admit. “You know he didn’t go through with it.”
His chair thumps back down on the floor, his face flushing red again. “Because when it came down to it, you didn’t have the balls to force the issue. You let him follow his dick instead of his head. You cared more about what he wanted than what was best for the company. And that,” he jabs his finger at me, “is why you’ll never be the CEO the King Group needs.”
“And you are? A man who almost ruined the company’s reputation because he was too narcissistic and greedy to put it first. A man who screws anyone in a skirt.”
“You’re letting your bitterness show, son. Every woman I screwed wanted what I gave them. Every. Single. One.”
My fists clench. Hatred scouring my veins. How much of this man still lives inside me? Did I get the part of me that lost control around Chloe from him? Is his weakness my weakness?
I force my fingers open. I’ve got the reminder I came here for. No need to put myself through more of this.
I shove my chair back and stand.
“Leaving so soon?” Dad knows he’s gotten to me, and it makes the bastard happy. What he doesn’t realize is that I came here for exactly that reason.
“It’s been a pleasure, as always.”
He stands as well, steadying himself by bracing his hands on the table. “I’ll be out of here in a few years, and it won’t take much to sway the board into seeing things my way again. So don’t get too comfortable in that CEO chair,son. The moment you let your guard down, the moment the world realizes who you truly are, you’ll see how quickly they’ll turn on you.”
I take my time buttoning my jacket before I look him in the eye. “That’s not going to happen. After all, you’re the one who taught me never to let my guard down. It’s the one thing I’ll thank you for.”
My head is clear now. I’m focused. With a nod at the guards to let them know we’re done, I walk out, leaving him behind.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHLOE
As voices echo down the hallway, gradually coming closer, my heart rate skyrockets. I’d recognize Roman’s deep baritone anywhere.
Other than a fleeting glimpse of him in Cole’s office as I walked past before lunch, I haven’t seen him this morning. And I have no idea what to expect after yesterday. My stomach churns, nerves coiling tight, palms dampening with sweat.
As the three King brothers round the corner, Roman’s gaze locks onto mine, and I’m immediately thrust back to that moment last night, to him shirtless, his arm flexing, his eyes searing into mine.
Heat sparks low in my core, but I ignore it, shoving the memory aside and forcing my attention back to my monitor.
He and his brothers speak for a few minutes outside his office door, and then Cole—who returned from paternity leave this week—and Tate move off, both giving me a nod as they pass.
“Can I see you in my office?” Roman asks. As is so often the case, his expression is unreadable.
The apprehension swirling inside me ratchets up a notch. I swallow and nod. “Yes, sir.”
I swear I hear his teeth click together a moment before he turns away and pushes through the door into his office.
With a deep inhale, I rise and follow him. Once inside, I close the door softly behind me, then turn, keeping my back against it.
He stands by his desk, his unbuttoned suit jacket pushed back, hands in his pockets, as he takes me in. When I don’t move, an emotion—something almost like hurt—flickers in his eyes. “Are you scared of me, Chloe?”
Scared of him? No. Though I may be scared of myself. With a shake of my head, I take a step. Then I take another one, watching his face as I approach. I stop a few feet away from him.
“I’m not scared of you. But I wanted to apologize. I should never—What I did was?—”
He takes a step forward as well, the move bringing him so close that I need to look up at him. “You did nothing. I should never have put you in that situation.”
He regards me, taking his time studying my face in a way that makes my pulse race and my breaths shorten. And still, I’m not nervous. Not how I would have been if Geoff tried to get this close. Because Roman has too much control. Despite yesterday, despite last night. Maybe even because of last night, when I stood here and watched him and he didn’t push for more. Didn’t do anything but give me the choice of whether to go or stay.
Even now, every move he makes is smooth, restrained. His self-control is so incredibly appealing to me, even though I can’t put my finger on why.
I wet my lips, and in response, a muscle jumps in his jaw. He turns abruptly and moves away. “It won’t happen again. You don’t need to worry about that.”