Page 4 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two

I lock eyes with him, feeling grateful for Zane Gibson for the millionth time in the years since I met him at Harvard. He was one of the first and only people to talk to me when I arrived, and we quickly became close friends, even though our friendship has remained platonic up until now.

Well…mostly. Zane has made no secret about how he feels about me, but I just…haven’t been able to go there with him. I know a relationship with him would be unfair to everyone, especially to him, but he went through a bad breakup three months ago, and when a late-night celebration turned into hot sex…we unofficially decided on a very loose situationship.

Kind of like a mutual back scratch, but with genitals.

Shaking my head, I pull my hand back and tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, turning toward my screen.

“Get a meeting with the Braxton family trust manager. I don’t care that the guy’s ninety and just wants to offload the asset forhis cokehead grandkids. He owns seventy percent of the bank. We need all our ducks in a row.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, a grin crawling across his face. I lift an eyebrow.

“This is serious, you know,” I grit out.

“You think I don’t know that, Liv?” he asks, circling my desk so he could lean on it next to my chair. He folds his arms and…was I saying he was lanky? Yeah, he clearly pumps iron by the way those muscles pop in his thick white button-down.

“Yeah, I know,” I say with a huff, turning fully toward my screen to avoid him and his cologne. “When are you going to talk to them and resolve this issue?” I flip through Internet browsers just to give my fingers something to do.

Zane goes silent behind me, but I stiffen when he leans over my back, his hand landing on top of mine as I move the cursor around the screen.

“Liv,” he whispers, moving the hair around the shell of my ear.

That’s…nice. But being with Zane is like that.

Nice. Just nice.

Zane is like a Band-Aid on my libido. It keeps the worst effects of my multi-year dry spell at bay, but the reality is, I needmore.Zane will push back on my bitchiness, but ultimately, if I push hard enough, he’ll fold.

I need a man who will meet my force with equal energy—a man who is so powerful that Icanturn my brain off and exist.

I’ll be cared for. Cherished.

But that shit’s only for Hallmark movies.

I live in the real world, and right now, my very real world consists of the biggest acquisition of my life on my desk.

I really don’t have the energy to spare for Zane.

“Is there…anything else you need me to do, Liv?” Zane asks, shifting closer to press his palms to my desk, effectively blockingme in. I look over my shoulder, and he brings his face close to mine. I don’t pull back…but I don’t move forward, either.

“Need?” I ask. “I need you to close this multi-billion-dollar deal with me. Can you do that?”

I’m close. I’m so fucking close to the goal.

A billion-dollar net worth.

With the purchase of Keystone Financial, Orisun Technologies will usher in a new era of business-building powered by machine learning. Not only will we be able to self-fund businesses that go through our programs—businesses that are four times more likely to be undercapitalized and denied funding—but buying Keystone will mean my personal net worth will surpass a billion.

$1.1 billion, to be exact. The figure that seemed completely impossible during those early days of late nights in my MBA program. It’s the number I’ve bled for, part of my soul has died for.

It’s the amount that says, “Fuck you,” tohim.

Because, in the end, I didn’t ever needhimin my life.

“Of course, Liv,” Zane says. “I’ll do anything for you.”

Good Lord, save me from this bullshit.

“Liv,” Zane says, moving closer to me. I sigh and sit up, putting on the bored expression I’ve mastered over the last five years since we partnered to start Orisun.