Lahat ng Kabanata ng Too Late To Apologize, Mr. CEO: Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

I turned around in my seat and looked behind us. We had turned off the main avenue onto one of the side streets. It was lined with run-down houses and decaying storefronts, many with boarded-up windows. The asphalt was cracked and coming away in pieces. A wrecked car was propped up on blocks in one of the parking lots. Small groups of people in shabby clothes hung out on street corners and under overpasses, smoking cigarettes and watching as we drove past.Adrian glanced at the rearview mirror. “Yeah, he’s still there,” he said. Derek was resolutely following us. I was surprised he didn’t bring the bodyguards. Maybe I should be thankful he wasn’t wearing one of his suits that cost more than the people here earned in a year. The bat signal would have gone out to every mugger in a ten-block radius. At least this way we had a decent chance of going unnoticed. This was really out of character for him. Forest Park was probably the worst neighborhood he had ever entered in his life. I

I smoothed my hair, forcing my breathing to be slow and steady. Investors didn’t bother me. I’d met hundreds of them, first with Derek and then with the foundation. I could handle this. I pushed open the conference room door and that’s when I saw him. He was standing by the window, wearing a pair of jeans and a coffee-stained sweatshirt. He definitely wasn’t dressed like the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation. He turned and his eyes met mine. They were a strange shade of gray, like the sea on a foggy day. When he saw me they lit up like the sun had just come out. He stepped forward, his hand held out. “Ms. Brooks!” he said warmly. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you!” “Claire is fine,” I said, shaking his hand. It was smooth but powerful, the nails manicured. A CEO’s hand, for sure. Probably played racquetball at the court in the company’s gym every weekend. “Kurt Whittaker,” he said. “Call me Kurt.” “So,” I said. “What brings the CEO of Swegel Holdings to Forest Park?”

I never thought I’d be tying a little girl’s glitter-pink shoelaces in a place like Forest Park. Her name was Eliana. And she was frowning with fierce concentration, like the knot was a hostile acquisition, and she was never going to back down.“Bunny ears,” I reminded her gently. “Cross them over and pull tight.” She had to try a couple of times, but her smile beamed like the sun when she finally got it right. “Perfect!” I said. I meant it too.She studied me for a moment, head tilted. Kids do that—look at you like they can see right through all the masks you put on to hide your true self.“Do you like Miss Claire?” she asked suddenly.“What?” I spluttered. The question caught me off guard.She continued to look at me, little eyebrows raised.I’d deflected billion-dollar questions from board members that caused me less stress than this. Eliana’s eyes were drilling into me. She had a real future as a negotiator. Or maybe a prosecuting attorney. “Yes,” I admitted.“Like-like her?”

“Jessica was the love of my life,” Adrian said. No. Blake. His name was Blake. Adrian, the man I was beginning to love, who I thought loved me, that man didn’t exist.“She was the love of my life,” he repeated.And for some reason, some stupid reason, that hurt worse than everything he had done to me so far. I was jealous of a dead woman who had once been married to a man I didn’t even know.He smiled reminiscently. “When I first asked her out, I never believed she would date a man like me. I hadn’t made my name yet. I was poor, and I’ve never been a handsome man. Not like your Derek.” He looked at me, frowning slightly. I bit down on the urge to tell him he wasn’t “my” Derek, not anymore. I didn’t want him distracted.“She worshipped the truth like it was a religion,” Blake continued. “That’s why she became a journalist. She said someone had to speak for those with no voices. People who live in neighborhoods like this.” He gestured vaguely around the room, taking in the blistered p

My knees buckled and for an instant I thought I was dead. But the bullet wasn’t for me. Blake made an indescribable noise and his body jerked violently. His grip on my neck relaxed and I staggered away, barely able to support myself on my numb and aching legs.A man stepped out from the shadows around the stairwell, holding a gun in his right hand. His hair was mussed and his face pale and grim. His bloodshot eyes focused on me with frantic intensity. He was wearing the charcoal jacket I’d picked out for him two years ago.“Derek?” I gasped. “What are you doing here?”“Get away from her!” he shouted. He leveled the gun at Blake. “Surrender! It’s over, you son of a bitch! Get on the ground!” Blake was standing there, eyes wide with shock as blood soaked his shirt. His gun slipped unnoticed from his hand. “Get down on the ground, Adrian!” Derek looked like he’d be more than happy to shoot Blake again. Blake shook his head, as if trying to clear it or dislodge an annoying fly. Then h