Page 89

ADRIAN

I kept my expression neutral. The air so electric between us I could practically hear it crackling. It was a heady feeling, to have everything you worked so hard to get within your grasp. Or should I say just out of reach? Sitting in front of me with that sour look on her face.

You had to be careful when you were this close to the end of the board. You had to cradle the pieces in the palm of your hand or risk having them crumble beneath your fingertips. Which was why I let the moment stretch on, waited for it all to sink in before choosing my next words carefully.

“I don’t want your company, Marisela. Your home, your cars, whatever other assets you amassed over the years…” I shoved my chair back and rounded my desk for the second time, closing the distance until I’d positioned myself directly in front of her.

She peered up at me, her brows creased with suspicion and her mouth still pinched like she’d been sucking on a lemon when she should be sucking on something else. Hell, she didn’t even have to move. I had no problem doing all the work. Or returning the favor.

“I don’t want anything that’s rightfully yours.” I grabbed her wrist and tugged her to her feet, gently drawing her closer. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t fight me. That didn’t mean she wasn’t ready to do it, though.

“What’s the catch, Adrian?”

I cupped a palm under her chin, gliding a finger across the skin of her nape until all the tiny follicles were standing on end.

I could see her grappling with her natural reaction to want to close her eyes.

But Marisela always had more self-control than I ever did.

She didn’t even chance a blink as she stared back at me.

“There’s no catch, little lamb. Call the lawyers and have them draw up the papers.”

I reached an arm behind my back and grabbed the handset from the old black rotary phone I kept on my desk for aesthetics.

It still dialed out, even if I didn’t have a real use for it anymore.

I tugged until the coiled cord stretched as far as it would go while little dust particles danced between us, then wrapped Marisela’s clenched fist around the receiver.

She glanced at the phone in her hand before glaring up at me again. “Or you could cut the showmanship and I could just use my cell like a normal person.”

“I could, but can your cell do this?” I twisted the cable around my neck and yanked once, the plastic coils embedding themselves against my Adam’s apple.

Marisela still had the other end clutched in her hand as I stepped far enough back to restrict my own air supply. Then I met her annoyance with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes, dropping the receiver and leaving it to dangle along my chest, and quickly added as much distance as she could between us without stepping over the threshold.

“Enough of the theatrics, Adrian. I came here to discuss business, not indulge in whatever sick games you have in that head of yours.” She pointed an accusatory nail at me.

Red. Her favorite color. I hadn’t forgotten.

“Let’s not pretend you don’t like my sick games, Marisela.

” I unwrapped the cable from around my neck and set it back onto the desk before refastening each of the buttons of my dress shirt.

If she noticed the new ink carved into my chest, she didn’t mention it.

“You wanna talk business? We’ll talk business. ”

I grabbed my glasses off the shelf to my right and lowered them onto the bridge of my nose.

I’d had my cornea reshaped years ago, which meant my vision was more impaired than improved when I was wearing these, but Marisela had a thing for glasses.

And, well, I had a thing for her . Or maybe I just liked driving her crazy.

Then I pulled a pen and pad of paper from the bottom drawer, scrawled my intentions across the first clean page, and signed the bottom. Marisela’s heels clicked against the floor as she approached my desk. I wave the sheet of paper in her direction and she snatched it out of my hand .

“I, Adrian Lambert, hereby relinquish my claim on everything that rightfully belongs to Marisela Cruz in exchange for everything that is rightfully mine.” She read the statement aloud before landing me with another glare.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Adrian? Rightfully yours? What’s rightfully yours? ”

I grinned, even as I tried my damnedest not to. Because, like I said, this moment had been a long time coming. So long I was tempted to pinch myself to make sure it was real. “You, of course. You’ve always been rightfully mine, Marisela.”