Page 6 of The Billionaire's Redemption

“So all the contracts issued by Thalvyn from three months ago were drafted through your company then?”

“Yes.”

My hand clenches around the contract in my hand until my knuckles turn white. “I see. Thank you.”

I don’t know how I get back to my office, but my head is spinning like I’ve been drinking champagne on an empty stomach. Layla jumps up from her seat when she sees me enter, her eyes wide with concern.

“Miss Thorne?”

“Get me a cup of coffee and a painkiller,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Then leave me alone for a while.”

My assistant casts a nervous look my way before hurrying off like her life depends on it.

Closing the door to my office, I don’t even make it to the chair, sinking heavily into the two-seater by the entrance. With trembling hands, I run my eyes over the contract again, hoping against hope that the words will have magically changed. When I read it the first time months ago, I had been anxious about the terms. I could tell how carefully the contract had been crafted, every clause designed to trap me. It had been airtight then, and it’s going to be airtight now. The contract isn’t going to change, no matter how many times I reread it.

But I had been so desperate for the money.

I let out a shuddering breath before setting it aside and burying my face in my hands, feeling the weight of five years crashing down on me.

If it hadn’t been for the debts?—

“Damn it!” I curse loudly, throwing the papers across the room and watching them scatter like my carefully laid plans, feeling like I’m suffocating in this office that suddenly feels too small. Sinking my head in my hands once again, I try to calm down, but my heart is racing like I’ve just run a marathon.

Five years. Five years of rebuilding my life… It’s like the universe decided to spit on my face and laugh while doing it.

I lost everything because of this man. And now he’s back, as if to remind me of my biggest mistake, wearing a perfectly tailored suit and the same devastating smile that once made me believe in fairy tales.

My hands shaking, I sink deeper into the couch.

What am I going to do now?

CHAPTER 2

ETHAN

I gaze out the window,hands folded behind me, lost in my thoughts. The oppressive heat shimmers off the glass, distorting the view of Manhattan’s concrete jungle below where pedestrians move sluggishly through the sweltering summer air.

The door to my office opens just as I hear Clarice cry out in an outraged tone. “Mr. Wilder, you can’t just barge in?—”

“Don’t worry about it, Clarice.” I hear my brother’s voice as I turn around. “We’re twins. I told him about my arrival telepathically.”

The man who’s entered my office scans the layout with obvious curiosity. Unlike me, my fraternal twin brother has inherited his hazel eyes from our mother, along with our father’s winning smile and sharp wit. His hair is dark brown, but that is where the similarities end. From his casual attitude and semi-formal attire, one would not know that Jake Wilder has the reputation of being a shark amongst corporate lawyers.

“So.” Jake tosses his briefcase on the coffee table, sprawlingonto the couch and loosening his tie with practiced ease. “You really went and did it. I hope this dump was worth it.”

I give him a cool look. “I’m sure you didn’t come all this way to say something you could’ve said over the phone.”

Jake grins at me with that trademark smirk that has charmed judges and intimidated opposing counsel in equal measure. “I wanted to come by and check out my new digs. You did promise me an office here, didn’t you, what with me being the Wilder Group’s official lawyer and all?”

“You have an office in every company I own. What is wrong with the office in your own law firm?” My brows knit together.

“So I like having multiple offices. Sue me,” Jake says with casual defiance. “I hate staying in one place.”

“What happened to the office you had in Nick’s building?”

The mention of our youngest brother, who also happens to be a tech mogul, has my twin sulking like a petulant child. “Worst two months of my life. He’s a tyrant. In all these thirty-eight years of my existence, I’ve never developed an ulcer. Two months in his office, and I swear to everything holy, I feel like I have two ulcers—one for each month I’ve had to hear him nag at me. I have no idea how Elisha puts up with him.”

“So I take it you’re not going back to his building?”