Dirty Rich Betrayal Page 3

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mia

  Grayson’s warning twists me in knots and ultimately anger takes root. I whirl around to face him. “You don’t get to say what we do or don’t do. You don’t get to decide if we kiss or not. You don’t get to decide if we start or stop. You’re not in control anymore.”

  “I was never in control,” he says, his voice tight with returned anger. “Not with you.”

  “Are you kidding me? You controlled everything in the past. I was making my first real career move and your father—you, basically—owned the company. You had money and power and I came from nothing. You were this force of nature I wanted to be near. I wanted to learn from you. I wanted to be with you. You consumed me. I—this is not then. You’re not in control this time.”

  His hands come down on my arms and he pulls me to him. “It sure as hell didn’t feel like I was in control when you left, and I bled out both times, Mia. Both fucking times.”

  Both times.

  He means after the funeral, which is just another knife in my chest.

  “Look at us,” I say. “This is who we are, Grayson. Pain and anger. Why would you want to keep me here?”

  The doorbell rings and he curses, but he doesn’t let me go. “Because the pain and anger are about a betrayal that never fucking happened.” He tangles his fingers in my hair. “We have never fought this out honestly and completely. And because of this.” His mouth closes down on mine, his tongue stroking deep, and every part of me inside and out, melts into him, into us, when I don’t mean to. The doorbell rings again and he tears his mouth from mine. “We’re still us. We’re still us.”

  “I don’t know what that means anymore.”

  “You will,” he promises, his hands coming down on my arms once more. “Mia—”

  The doorbell rings again and he grimaces. “Damn it. They aren’t going away. I have to let them in.”

  “You do,” I say. “We need to talk with them about Ri.”

  “Ri,” he repeats tightly. “Yes. Let’s talk about Ri.” He releases me, a cold snap in the air as he motions me forward.

  I don’t like this reaction. I don’t like what he thinks is between Ri and I, but I decide maybe it works right now, especially where Ri is concerned. He needs to find that hard, cold part of himself and find it now. He needs to focus on the war before him, not on me, not on us. With that thought, I launch myself across the room, hurrying up the stairs, and I half expect his hand on mine at any moment, but it doesn’t happen. I’ve hit a nerve in him and some part of me revels in the fact that he has nerves to be hit. If he didn’t care about me, he wouldn’t, but I don’t know why it matters. I don’t want to do love his way.

  I reach the upper level and I decide to offer Grayson privacy with his team to explain why I’m here, and I do so without his permission. I cross the living room and head out to the upstairs patio that oversees a rectangular infinity pool that seems to flow right into the ocean when it doesn’t. I flip on the heater and ignore the round table that he often uses for meetings. Instead, I stand at the railing overlooking the pool, watching the now steady, but slower flow of raindrops hit its surface.

  “Mia.”

  At the sound of Eric’s voice, I turn to find him joining me, his light brown hair tousled, his blue eyes as intelligent as ever, but then why wouldn’t they be? This is a man who’s been by Grayson’s side, helping him make billions, for damn near a decade. “Hi, Eric,” I say, hugging myself.

  “It’s been a long time,” he says, setting his briefcase on the table, while his snug black tee allows me a clear view of his tattoo sleeve that was once a lion with blue eyes, and now travels down his arm in a collage of clocks and skulls. “I haven’t seen you since—” He stops himself, his lips thinning.

  “The funeral,” I supply. “I can’t believe that’s been a year now.”

  “I know,” he says. “I can’t either. I don’t know how the hell Grayson lives in this place, aside from the fact that he’s in the city so damn much.” He shakes his head. “Enough of that, though. Davis needed Grayson to call an investor. They’ll be right here.”

  “Good. I’m glad to have a moment with you. Maybe you’ll listen before they get here because I’m not sure Grayson will. He’s in trouble.”

  “If you’re here, then he must be.” He closes the space between us. “Talk to me.”

  “I’ll tell you what I’ve told him.” I tell him everything, the job, the interview, what I overheard at the DA’s office. “They were talking about Grayson. I know they were and I saw that card on Ri’s desk. Please tell me that you see that as the problem I do.”

  He narrows his eyes at me. “Why are you here if you’re with Ri?”

  “I’m not with Ri, and I’m smart enough to see the writing on the wall. He wants me to taunt Grayson. I’m a token in a game.”

  “And yet you went to him.”

  “I took a job, and I’m certain you know more about why than maybe I did before—” I stop myself. “At the time, I admit I was angry at Grayson and hurt. I just needed a place to go.”

  “You knew how he’d feel about you going to Ri.”

  “Do you know how I felt about what he did?” I hold up a hand. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not with Ri and I’m tired of being a token in a game between two powerful men.”

  “You’re not a token,” Eric says. “You’re the woman Grayson loves and that hasn’t changed. You’re a weapon Ri is using against him.”

  “I know that now,” I say. “That’s why I’m here. I’m not going to be a weapon against Grayson. Not now or ever.”

  Grayson steps onto the porch and our eyes meet, the charge between us cracking. “I never intended to be a weapon against you, Grayson. Please believe that.”

  Grayson lowers his lashes, the lines of his face hard and sharp. He’s struggling to maintain control, and he never struggles to maintain control, because of me. Because we both know I’m not completely innocent. I did leave him and go to his enemy. I did know that would upset him. I wanted to hurt him the way he hurt me.

  “I regret it,” I breathe out, saying the words I should have said a long time ago, the words I’d rather say to him alone. “I regret going to him, Grayson.”

  His lashes lift and I don’t find forgiveness or understanding. I find anger.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Mia

  “Mia,” Davis says, stepping to Grayson’s side; he’s a tall man, in his late thirties, with dark brown hair and a beard to match. Today he’s left his famously expensive suits behind for jeans and a T-shirt. “It’s been a long time,” he says warmly when he’s rarely warm to anyone. “Too long.”

  I am stunned by how warm his greeting is and this tells me that Grayson never gave him reason to hate me. He’s angry, yes. They know he’s angry, but my stomach twists with the idea that they’re sympathetic to me, that they know he’s guilty of much with me. Some part of me wants to believe he’s not. I’ve always wanted to believe that he’s not, perhaps because I had this fairytale idea of who and what we could be, what I thought we were. Maybe because my father loved my mother to the point of no return. He would have died for her. The man gave her part of his lung to try to save her life. And no, it’s not a fairytale in that she died, but their love was.

  Now my lashes lower, the pain of losing Grayson is acid in my throat. “Let’s sit,” Grayson says, motioning to the table, and we all listen because he’s the one in charge, and not because this is his house. Because no matter how powerful the people in the room, Grayson owns the room itself, he’s in control and I’ve always found this incredibly alluring. What I didn’t do, was fear where that would lead me or what that power over me meant until he burned me. I cannot allow him to burn me again.

  I walk to the table and sit down, noting the rain has now stopped, the only storm left is that between myself and Grayson. Eric sits to my right, Davis across from me, but there is only one person that consume
s me. Grayson sits to my left and when we look at each other, no one else exists, a million unspoken words and so much anger between us.

  Eric clears his throat. “I’ll update Davis. Grayson, Mia ran through the situation with me. To make a long story short, Mia was at the DA’s office for an interview.”

  “An interview?” Davis asks. “Why the fuck would you interview with the DA?”

  “Irrelevant,” Eric states. “She overheard a plan to take down Grayson.”

  “Grayson doesn’t break the law,” Davis states. “This is ridiculous.”

  “It’s a set-up,” I say. “I saw one of the detective’s cards on Ri’s desk. I think he’s behind it all and that means he’s doing what he has to in order to ensure Grayson looks guilty.”

  Grayson looks at Eric. “Where are we weak enough to allow this to happen?”

  “You have employees worldwide, Grayson,” he says. “Anyone could be paid off to plant false information, or to even go so far as to break the law. I told you. We should have dealt with Ri years ago.”

  “He had Mia,” Grayson says. “I didn’t think he’d act beyond that, but obviously, that’s changed.”

  “I know a guy at the DA’s office,” Davis says. “I’ll make a call. It’ll cost us, but he’ll get us what we need to know. If he confirms there’s a problem, we’re at war and we need a good criminal attorney advising us. I’m corporate and I’m good, but I want an expert in here.”

  “I’m criminal law,” Grayson says. “I can handle it. I don’t want anyone involved that could leak this.”

  “You haven’t actively practiced in years,” Eric argues. “And you’re too close to this personally. I agree with Davis. We’ll need an expert to help you insulate yourself.”

  “I’m a criminal lawyer,” I say. “I’m actively practicing and I’m good at my job.”

  “You’re too close to this, and to the enemy,” Davis says, his voice hard now.

  “I haven’t lost a case,” I say, that topic hitting a nerve between Grayson and I that has me avoiding his stare. “And I haven’t resigned from Ri’s company. I can get close to him and—”

  Grayson gives a bitter laugh. “That’s priceless, Mia. Really fucking priceless. You left me to fuck him and now you want to fuck him for me? Or fuck him because you aren’t fucking me anymore.” He stands up and without a word, walks into the house.

  My emotions quake inside me and I can feel my hands shaking when I never shake, but this is Grayson. This is the man I still love and never stopped loving. I look between the two men he trusts the most. “I’m not with Ri. I have never been with Ri. I swear to you both.”

  “He’s the one who needs to hear it,” Eric says. “Not us.”

  He’s right.

  I stand up and follow Grayson, shutting the sliding glass door as I enter the living room.

  I find him behind the island, his hand on the counter, head dipped low, my regret I’d declared gnawing at me. I’m not a person that lashes back. I really didn’t lash back the way he thinks I lashed back, and for reasons he might not deserve, I really need him to know the truth. I don’t leave the island between us. I round the counter and I stand beside him, facing the counter, not him.

  “I’ve never been with Ri. I know you think I was, but I haven’t been. He’s tried for years. Recently I was lonely. I was really lonely, Grayson. I saw a picture of you with a woman and I realized that you’d moved on and I hadn’t.”

  “I didn’t fucking move on, Mia,” he says turning to face me. “I was trying to survive you fucking my enemy.”

  I whirl around to face him as well. “I didn’t, though. I didn’t fuck Ri.” My voice lifts as I add, “Ever. After seeing you with her, I finally agreed to go out with him. I tried to do what you think I already did and I had to drink wine, lots of wine, to try and actually make it happen. I mean, why wouldn’t I? You and I—and you were—” I stop myself. “It doesn’t matter why. I had too much wine. I fell asleep on his couch and even after seeing you with that woman, I dreamed about you, and us, and I called out your name.”

  “You did what?”

  “I called out your name and since I was dreaming about the funeral, after the funeral, actually, the last time we were together, it wasn’t in anger, but passion.”

  He’s still, so very still, before he says, “And what did he do?”

  “He was furious and then he grabbed me and tried to force himself on me. He told me he’d make me forget you.”

  Grayson’s hands come down on my arms and he pulls me to him. “Did he force himself on you? Because if he did, I’ll kill him.”

  He speaks those words with such guttural anger that I believe him. My hand settles on his chest, his heart racing beneath my palm. “I gave him a knee so damn hard, I doubt he walked right for a week.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good enough punishment.”

  “He didn’t touch me again. He got the point. Grayson, I should never have gone to him at all. He wanted what was yours and I knew that and even though he couldn’t have me, at least, to him, you thought he did. Now, I left him and he’s lashing out. I did this. I did this to you and I’m so sorry. You have to let me help. I don’t want to go near that man, but I need you to understand that I’ll do it for you.”

  He tangles his fingers into my hair. “Going back to him is like sticking another knife in my heart, Mia. You will not go back to him. Do you understand me?”

  “If it protects you, I will.”

  “You will not. That’s not up for debate.”

  “You don’t get to decide.”

  He turns me and pins me between himself and the counter, his powerful legs caging mine, his hands on my waist. “On this,” he says. “Watch me. I’m not letting you go back to him. Even if I have to do what I should have done before and tie you to my damn bed until you listen to reason. One of my biggest regrets is not doing that a year ago, so I damn sure will do it now.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Mia

  “Grayson—” I say, determined to make him listen.

  “Don’t,” he says. “I know you still know that look and that plea on your lips makes me give in, but not this time. Not when it comes to you and Ri.”

  “I’m here because I caused this, because I care. You don’t have to tie me to your bed. I’m staying. I’m not leaving. Please, just tell me you’ll hear me out.”

  “Quid pro quo. I hear you out. You hear me out.”

  We’re going down this path of the past. I can’t stop it from happening. I’m not sure, if I’m honest with myself or him, that I want to stop it. “On one condition. We deal with us after him because I don’t want either of us letting the past get in the way of shutting Ri down.”

  “Then we operate just like we did at the funeral. Nothing is off limits.”

  “Grayson—”

  He cups my face and kisses me, a deep slide of tongue that has me biting back a moan. “God, I missed kissing you.”

  I missed it too, so very much, but I don’t say that to him. I can’t.

  He rests his forehead against mine. “I need to go talk to Eric and Davis.”

  “Yes,” I agree, pressing on his chest and forcing him to look at me, “you do. Be open-minded to what they say. I want to help.”

  “You have. You’ve motivated me to destroy him once and for all.”

  His voice is hard, the glint in his eye pure evil genius that actually comforts me. You don’t beat Grayson Bennett when he’s in this state of mind, but that also means he won’t listen to reason on my influence over Ri. “I just packaged a convention center deal in Japan. There are a few legal issues on that project that are time-sensitive. I have to deal with that today. I have no choice.”

  “A convention center. Wow. That’s huge.”

  “It is. It’s going to double our worth.”

  And make Ri hate him all the more. “I’m not going anywhere, Grayson. Take care of your busi
ness. Just make sure Ri is part of that business.”

  He presses his hands on the island on either side of me. “You didn’t cause his attack, Mia. I did. I let this misunderstanding between us go on too long, but no more.” He pushes off the counter. “Do you have a bag in the car?”

  “Yes. I was afraid I couldn’t get to you tonight.”

  He studies me a long moment. “I’ll get your bag.” He starts to move away.

  I catch his arm. “It’s light. I’ll get it. You go take care of business.”

  “Take it to my room. That’s part of the deal. We put the past on hold.”

  My lashes lower and he cups my face. “Mia. Look at me.”

  I open my eyes. “My room,” he says.

  “Yes,” I say, finding the idea that I would pretend I’d end up anywhere else a waste of energy at this point that would border on the kind of games I don’t like to play. “Your room. I’m going to take a walk, though. I need to clear my head. I’ll take my phone. You know my number.”

  His hand comes down on the island beside me again. “Yes. I know your number, just like you know the gate code to this house when no one else does. There was never a time when you couldn’t get to me, Mia. You just didn’t choose to find out until now.” There is anger in his words again, in his voice. He pushes off the island and walks away and that anger is what I focus on.

  He’s angry, like I betrayed him, and for the first time since right after the funeral, I let myself consider the option that he’s not guilty of at least one of his sins, the unforgivable one, but I shove that naiveté away. I know what happened. I swallow hard and quickly push off the island and start walking, my path leading me to my car, where I open the trunk and remove a hoodie from my suitcase. I pull it on and then head down a walkway at the side of the house that leads to the beach. Once I’m there, I walk to the edge of the water and turn and stare at the house.