Page 80 of Power

But something stopped me from pressing it.

What if Marcus wasn’t bluffing? What if Jace did have secrets that could destroy him? And what if, by trying to protect myself, I ended up destroying the one man who had made me feel safe for the first time in forever?

The taste of fear filled my mouth as one terrifying thought solidified. I was caught between two dangerous men: one I feared and one I was falling for. And I had no idea which one would hurt me worse in the end.

40

SCARLETT

“Holy crap,” Tessa gasped.

We sat in Blake’s dining room, crystal wineglasses catching the amber glow from the recessed lighting above. Well, technically, this was BlakeandTessa’s place now since she’d moved in shortly after they’d fallen in love. It was at this very penthouse that I had first met Blake, back when I was the spitting image of confidence. Sitting on his countertop, giving him advice like I had my life together.

And now here I was, with my world crumbling, and I was trying to stop it before it turned to dust. I’d filled her in on my weekend of fun with Jace. A weekend Blake probably knew about, too, after the ER visit. But most pressing at the moment, I’d filled her in on Marcus.

“You can’t let this guy get away with that,” Tessa insisted, her small frame practically vibrating with indignation as she leaned forward across the table, which smelled of sandalwood and wealth.

My best friend was right.

“I have no intention of letting him get away with it.” I took a deliberate sip of the cabernet and savored its rich bite against my tongue. Liquid courage. I’d need it.

“You have to tell Jace.”

“Agreed. But I have to be smart about it.” I traced the rim of my wineglass, buying time to organize my thoughts. “Marcus is a slimeball. He clearly knows Jace very well and will probably know just what to say to convince him that he’s innocent.”

“I’m sure Jace will take your side,” Tessa said, taking a sip of her own drink.

“If there’s even a small chance that what Marcus is saying is true, if Marcus has some dirt on Jace that could destroy his company and endanger everyone he cares about …” I swallowed hard. “If I tell him before I have my ducks in a row, this will go south. Fast.”

When I told Tessa how Marcus had essentially threatened people like Blake, her face went through a complete emotional journey. First stop: wide-eyed shock. She’d stared into her drink for several silent seconds. Then, step two. With a sharp intake of breath, shoulders squaring, nostrils flaring, she’d gone into anger mode. Now, it looked like we’d graduated to step three: an unexplained gleam in her eye.

“What?” I demanded.

“You realize what just happened, right?” Tessa’s eyes lit up like she’d just solved a murder mystery.

“My growing venomous hatred for a sexual harasser?” I arched an eyebrow, reaching for my drink. “Or the fact that I’m now fantasizing about Marcus mysteriously falling down an empty elevator shaft?”

“When you caught me up on everything, it was allmy career thisandmy job that. But now?” She leaned forward, voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. “Now you’re worried aboutJace.”

I blinked. “Huh?”

“You. Want. To. Protect. Him.” Her smile stretched wider with each word, her eyes twinkling, like she’d just caught me writing his name, surrounded by little hearts. “Just like he protected you from your father.”

Yep. I’d told her that whole debacle, too, including the ER visit.

“And,” she added, “you said the sex was HOT.”

“Are you hearing me?” I straightened my shoulders. “Did you miss the part where this sociopath might come after Blake? Your boyfriend? The love of your life? The guy whose face is literally your phone background?”

Tessa waved her hand like I’d mentioned a minor inconvenience. “Which is exactly why you need to warn Jace. Once he tells the guys what’s going on, it’s Marcus who should be shopping for a bulletproof vest.”

“She said with disturbing murderous implications.” I squinted at her. “Should I be concerned about your browser history?”

“Back to the point,” Tessa sang, tapping her nails against her glass. “You, my friend, want toprotectJace.”

“It’s the decent thing to do.”

“It’s theromanticthing to do,” she countered, practically serenading the words.