chapter 14

The storm hit hard, cutting through the air like glass. Paisley stood behind the Monroe estate gate's overhang, completely wet. Her coat stuck to her skin, and her hair stuck to her cheeks. Jace didn't move when she looked at him. He said, "You lied." The sound of his voice was sharper than the storm behind him. She yelled, "I protected myself!" From you. From this existence that you call a circus. He walked forward, his jaw hard, his black shirt saturated and stuck to his chest, and rain was trickling down his temples. You had a choice. You always did. No, she said. You made sure I didn't. You could have believed me. You could have battled for me, but you fled away like a coward! She cracked her voice. You left as soon as things got hard. He blinked, his lashes heavy with water, but his look didn't change. Do you know what? I guess I should have remained away. We might have been faking it all along. Paisley took a breath, and her chest rose and fell quickly. At least I didn't fake loving you. His shoulders got tense. His quiet spoke louder than a scream. There was a lot of rain between them, and puddles formed at their feet, yet neither moved. Her hand shook. I was waiting for you. And when you didn't show up, I learnt to stop hoping. Do you think that's fair? He laughed in a cruel way. You think you're the only one who's hurt? Their eyes met. Rough, bare, and jagged. You know what? She said in a whisper. I don't know if I want to feel anything anymore. Jace moved closer, close enough for her to see that his jaw was shaking. That's too late. They didn't look aside when the thunder rumbled behind them. They were already in it. Too deep to run away. Not fixable. Too near to stop. And too far away to go back. Paisley pushed by him, and precipitation dripped from her hairline and soaked through her top. As she walked to her automobile parked beneath the street lamp, her heels sunk into the muck. "Don't walk away," Jace warned in a low but stern voice. She kept going. I already did. He got in front of her and blocked her way. You don't get to tell me how I feel. She looked at him. I never did. You cut me off. You never knocked. Their breaths made the air foggy between them. The wind ripped at her coat, throwing the lapels back as if they were more than just fabric. Do you want the truth? She asked, her voice husky. I wish you hadn't kissed me that night in Paris when I wake up every day. That's not true. So why does it still hurt? His hand went up, stopped, and then tucked a piece of her wet hair behind her ear. Because you still feel it. She didn't pull away. He touched her face with his thumb. You believe I'm a monster. You think this thing was a mistake. She didn't say anything. He leaned in. Then stop me. Be quiet. The rain got a little lighter, as if the planet was holding its breath. Then he kissed her again. Not the way he had before—no anger, no heat—but with doubt. With pain. It wasn't an order. It was a query. Her mouth spoke. And that scared her. She jerked back, gasping and breathing hard. This doesn't affect anything. He murmured, "No." But it proves everything. Her phone rang in her pocket. Her eyes were hazy as she blinked. I had to leave. This time, he didn't stop her. Not with his body. Not with words. But the way he looked said that he wasn't going to let go. The Lautner boardroom was a glass box of anxiety, and every statement was a bomb ready to go off. Stephan threw the stack of reports on the table. Lightning flashed across the metropolitan skyline during the thunderstorm outside. Please tell me why Cranford just pulled out of their investment. He barked, and the sound filled the room. Paisley stood by the far window, quiet, and looked down at the report in her hand. Her face was blank, but inside, there was fire. Michael moved his cufflinks next to her. They said the leadership was unstable. It looks like the CEO's job is in danger. Stephan stared at Paisley. You said the vote was strong. You said you would help us. She said, "We're close," in a calm but chilly voice. You pushed too hard. This transaction was necessary for us, dammit! And you believed that intimidating board members would make them be quiet? It was really quiet. Then one of the younger members said under their breath, "We should have listened to Jace." Stephan turned around. He left this business. No, Paisley answered, and then she turned. You made him leave. You didn't think the walls would tumble when he went. He walked towards her, breathing heavily. Be careful, girl. I am not your girl. The room became quiet. After then, her phone rang. She answered without moving away. Lautner Paisley. The voice on the other end was calm and slick. Known. The speaker said, "Your uncle." Next week, I'm ready to tell everyone about the whole Lautner board. Stealing money. Payments that are against the law. Accounts in front. It will wreck them. Please help me, and I will fully restore your family name. She froze, and her fingers shook around the phone. The queue went dead. She gave Stephan a look. And all of a sudden, her stillness wasn't intimidating anymore. It was a choice that was about to blow up. The Trinity Building was lofty, brutalist, and chilly, like a remnant from a long-lost empire. Its marble walls were soaked with murmurs. Paisley got out of the car, and her heels clicked on the damp pavement. The wind ripped her cloak around her knees and bit her cheeks. Michael walked behind her but stayed a polite space away. The lobby was quiet inside. Not enough noise. The woman at the front desk hardly looked up before letting them in. The sound of Paisley's heels rang down the hall, and the air smelt of disinfectant and concealment. A private lift is at the end of the hall. Michael coughed. Are you sure you want to go in by yourself? "No," she said, pushing the button. But I will. She walked right inside the lift when it opened. The office on the top floor was more of a hideout than a place to work. There were glass walls, low lights, the smell of old scotch, and political favours. Gregory Thorne, her uncle, waited at the window in a dark navy suit. His temples were grey, and his smile never reached his eyes. He was charming like a man who knew too much and didn't care. He said without turning, "You look like your mother." The same fire. Same mistake. Paisley kept her arms crossed. She used to trust you. She had to. The same way you do now. She stepped forward and said, "I don't have to do anything." Not at all help you burn down the Lautners so you can have the ashes. He turned around with the glass in his hand. I don't need your help. I'm giving you a fresh start. Your name, your mother's inheritance, and everything else they took from you will be returned. In front of everyone. Forever. And what do you get in return? He took a sip of his drink. You didn't say anything till the meeting. And you being there with me when the knives come out. Paisley's jaw tightened. And what about Jace? Gregory's grin got sharper. Collateral. She looked at him with her heart racing. You'd destroy your own family. He moved closer. You would too. She didn't say no. She only said, "I'll think about it." But that still tasted bad.