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This much is apparent—this man wants me gone.
I leave Paul Knight's office with doubts creeping in. He is a slime ball. A snake. I walk back to my desk, his words echoing in my mind.
He’ll tire of you.
He’s destined for greater things.
What if Jett does tire of me? He calls me his shortcake now, but things can change. I glance at Jett’s office, his door still open, chair empty. He hasn’t returned, and the silence feels heavy.
Paul’s poison is working its way into my thoughts. Did Jett know about the heiress? Did he keep that from me?
I sit down, my hands trembling as I try to focus on anything but the doubts clawing at my resolve.
A few more days. That’s all I have left before I leave.
Maybe walking away is the right thing to do. For him. For Brooke. Because if Paul is right—if Jett ever grows tired of me—then maybe leaving now is better than staying and seeing everything fall apart.
The thought of leaving hurts more than I want to admit.
Chapter 49
JETT
The beer bottle in Dex’s hand thuds against the table as he sets it down.
I’ve been busy at work, trying to get caught up with things back in the office, while half-heartedly looking for a new nanny. I’ve been slammed with urgent and important tasks and back-to-back meetings. I slacked off more than I should have in Bermuda and I’m paying the price for it, but I’d do it all again if I had the chance.
Despite this craziness, I can’t help thinking about Bermuda and everything we had there. Fun, laughter, togetherness—the things Brooke longed for. But it was also the start of something special with Cari.
I haven’t been in the office much since that smoldering kiss with my little shortcake, but Cari’s sudden aloofness hasn’t gone unnoticed. I plan to see her later tonight—a surprise appearance at her apartment, because we clearly need to talk and the office is not suitable for that conversation.
Dex leans back in his chair, giving me a look that’s all-knowing and too casual for my liking. I've just finished telling Dex everything about the arranged marriage deal with the Brazilian heiress.
“Damn, bro. That sucks.” He drags a hand through his dark hair.
“Understatement of the year.” I swirl the whiskey in my glass.
Zach slides into the booth, raising a brow. “What sucks?”
“Nothing,” I snap.
“Bullshit,” Zach counters, his eyes flicking between Dex and me. “What are you two hiding?”
Dex smirks, sipping his beer, but I shoot him a glare that screamsdrop it.The last thing I need is for Zach to hear about the arranged marriage from me. He’ll hear it from our father soon enough, and I don’t have the energy to repeat this all over again.
The silence stretches, heavy with unspoken words, until Zach shifts, restless. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But you know we’ve got another family dinner in a few days, right?”
“Joy,” I deadpan, tipping my glass back. It falls on the same day that Cari is leaving.
“Don’t act like you’re not going,” Zach says. “You know Dad will guilt-trip the hell out of us if we miss it.”
Dex chuckles. “Let’s take bets on how long it takes before he brings up the future of the empire.”
Zach shakes his head. “I’m putting money on five minutes in.”
I grunt, already feeling the oppression of that forced family dinner. Our father’s obsession with control knows no bounds.
“I don’t want to be there,” I groan. Coming from paradise, where time seemed to stop and I didn’t have to deal with my father’s bullshit, to this—it’s unnerving. Unsettling. And it's even worse because Cari and I are still an unfinished chapter.