Chapter 6

It poured over Manhattan. The president's office at Blake was full of cigarette butts. Hunter had his tie yanked loose and his eyes were red, and he kept dialing.

"Sorry. Everything's too hot right now. We can't afford to cross Whitmore for you."

"Stop fighting it. Everyone's been kind to you for five years because of Clara. Without her signature, what are you offering as collateral?"

The line went dead. He dropped into the chair.

Stripped of the title of Whitmore's future son-in-law, he could finally see it: the empire he'd been so proud of had never been anything but an attachment to her.

Frustration turned into something worse. He grabbed his keys and went out into the rain.

Half an hour later he forced his way into the CEO's office at Whitmore.

I was going over the details of a deal Adrian had sent over. The door opened. I didn't look up.

"Clara! Does it have to go this far?!" He slammed both hands on my desk, chest heaving. "Over a watch at an auction? Because Sienna ruined a dress? That's worth burning down an entire company?"

He stared at me. "Are you done? If all of this was to make me come to you — fine. You win. Reinstate the guarantee and I'll cut Sienna loose today."

I finished signing, capped my pen, and looked up into those bloodshot eyes.

"First, the watch belonged to the Frost family. It was never yours. Taking it just showed all of New York how greedy you are. Second — what makes you think any of this was about getting your attention?"

He stopped.

He searched my face for something. For five years he'd known exactly what it looked like when I looked at him. Love. Patience. The particular way I swallowed things when he hurt me.

There was none of it. No love, no hate. Just nothing at all.

The cold went all the way through him.

"Your brain went into a defensive response and cleared out the most emotionally significant memories from the last five years..."

He'd been certain it was a trick. Then he looked into eyes with nothing behind them and it hit him all at once:

She isn't acting. The indifference is real, and so is the cruelty. She actually forgot him. She erased it.

"That's not possible..." His voice shook. He reached toward me. "Clara, you loved me for five years. How could you wipe it all out? Just look at me—"

Panic and regret hit him together. He finally understood what he'd thrown away — a woman who would've put everything she had in his hands, and a safety net he'd never get near again.

"Security. Get him out." I hit the intercom and never spoke to him again.

They walked him out of the building and left him on the street in the rain.

Sienna came running through it and threw herself against him. "Hunter! Help me!"

She was soaked, clutching a wet letter, sobbing. "The auction house sent a final notice. They want all fifteen lots settled. Eight point seven million. If it's not in by tomorrow they're pressing charges. I could go to prison."

She grabbed his sleeve. "You said you'd handle it. Write me a check."

He looked down at her, then at the number.

Before, he would've paid. Now Blake couldn't free up a million in cash, and eight-plus might as well have been the moon.

He looked at her tears and saw my face instead. Blank. Uninterested.

Something in his eyes turned. He shoved her, hard, and she went down into the water.

"Get off me. You bought it, you pay for it."