33

The jeep was idling at the curb, a silent, predatory beast against the gray backdrop of the Heights. Giselle wondered what she was going to say to him, she had to say something at least.

She prayed for courage and hoped her voice would not fail her. The tinted window slid down an inch as Giselle approached, the cool air from the interior smelling of leather and the sharp, expensive scent of Richard Hemingway.

She pulled the door open and slid into the backseat. Richard was sitting in the corner, his silhouette imposing, his eyes tracking her every move with a hunger that felt like a physical weight.

"You didn't have to do all that, Richard," Giselle snapped, her voice trembling despite her effort to sound firm. "Freezing her bank accounts? Blocking Lawrose’s sponsors? I just wanted some time to myself for myself, you said I should do what makes me happy, and I did that, so why are you hunting my friends? I need to process things, to think clearly without you or Chase suffocating me."

"I am sorry," Richard said, though his voice lacked any true contrition. It was over the roof kind apology, as much as Richard showed that he cared, he still held on to his pride. "But you went silent all of a sudden. You left me without a word, you dont get to just vanish like that. It’s even hard trying to reason these past few days with a son who doesn't understand the value of family or even the air he breathes as a Hemingway. I would like us to talk, Giselle. Truly talk."

"I’ll talk to you when I’m ready," she countered, leaning back against the seat, her heart hammering against her ribs. "But harassing my friends? Punishing Lawrose and Serayah for my decision? It’s not going to bring me back. It only only going to make me want to stay away. It scary and makes me want to keep a permanent distance from this family."

Richard stared at her for a long beat, his gaze lingering on her mouth before he pulled out his phone. "Is that what you want? A few phone call is enough to sort your friends out?"

"Yes. Please, as soon as possible."

Richard made three calls in rapid succession. His voice was clipped, authoritative. “Reverse the hold on the Williams accounts. Reinstall the sponsorship for the Lawrose gallery. Do it within the hour.”

He ended the last call and looked back at her, sliding the phone into his breast pocket. "It’s done. I’ve rectified it. Now, you’re going to be a good girl and come back to the mansion. I don't want you out of the family house. Not for another night."

Giselle let out a sharp, bitter sigh. "You already how things are with Chase and I. Come back to the mansion? To what, Richard? To a husband who abuses me? To a man who flaunts his mistresses in my face while I’m expected to play the dutiful wife? What am I coming back to exactly?"

"Chase will never be an issue again," Richard swore, his voice dropping into a dark, lethal register. "I will try my best to make sure he doesn’t get in your way or bother you. We just need to keep up a happy family charade until this company takes form, you dont even have to be in each others company"

"And what about you?" Giselle whispered, her eyes searching his. The tension in the car was suffocating, the space between them charged with the memory of the hotel room. "What about us? I have been living with immense guilt upon finding out that my one and only one night stand experience was with my father in law? Are you really telling me you can live with the fact that you slept with your son’s wife? That every time you look at me across the dinner table, you won't be dealing with flash memories of the secret we share?"

Richard remained silent. His jaw tightened, a muscle leaping in his cheek. He looked out the window at the brick building she had just left, his eyes reflecting a storm of internal conflict he refused to voice.

"I thought as much," Giselle said, her voice breaking. She reached for the door handle. "You have all the power in the world, Richard, but you’re a coward when it comes to the truth. I'm going back upstairs."

"Giselle, wait—"

"No! You want me back because you want to own and control me, get me to present a happy marriage life with your lunatic of a son, you just want to own me like you own the banks and the boardrooms. But you can't even look me in the eye and admit you want me as a woman, I am mot a Hemingway asset."

"What do you want me to do?" Richard suddenly yelled, his composure finally shattering. He lunged across the seat, grabbing her arm, his face inches from hers. "Tell me! Go ahead and tell me what you want me to do and I will do it! Do you want me to scream from the rooftops that I’m obsessed with you? I’ll do it!"

He leaned in, his breath hot against her lips, his intent clear. He tried to kiss her, a desperate, forceful move to reclaim the heat they had shared.

Giselle put her hand against his chest, pushing him back with everything she had. "Stop. Not like this."

"Giselle—"

"Let me be, Richard. For the time being, let me breathe." She looked at him, her eyes fierce. "I will come back when I am ready. When I can look at you without feeling like I’m part of a business transaction."

Richard sat back, his chest heaving, his eyes dark with a mixture of frustration and relentless pursuit. He checked his watch, for the time.

"Twenty-four hours," he said, the ultimatum falling like a guillotine.

"What?"

"I am giving you twenty-four hours to make up your mind. Come back on your own terms, or I will come up those stairs myself. And if I have to come get you, I won't be using bank accounts next time. I will evacuate you from your friends' home in my own way. And believe me, Giselle, you won't like the spectacle."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me," Richard whispered. "You have one day, Giselle. Use it wisely."

Giselle opened the door and stepped out into the cool night air. She didn't look back as the car sped away and wondered what in the hell had she gotten herself into, there she was standing on the curb as time slipped by, there she was faced with a choice that would burn her world down regardless of what she picked.

“Damn you, Richard Hemingway” was all she could say.