Chapter 4

After Ronald's public declaration that he only loved me, chaos erupted. Reporters shouted questions, society matrons gasped in horror, and Cordelia Whitmore stood frozen like a beautiful statue.

But all I could see was Ronald walking toward me with that predatory intensity that made my knees weak.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice cutting through the noise. "Now."

Before I could protest, his hand was on my elbow, guiding me through the crowd toward a private elevator.

"You fucking maniac," I breathed, my hands shaking. "Do you have any idea what you just did?"

Ronald's laugh was bitter. "Yeah. I chose you over a perfectly acceptable marriage that would have made my family happy."

"You humiliated that poor girl!"

"I humiliated myself!" Ronald whirled around, his face inches from mine. "I just announced to all of Manhattan that I'm still hung up on a woman who walked out on me six years ago!"

The elevator dinged softly as we reached the penthouse level. Ronald led me down a marble hallway to a private suite.

"Sit down," Ronald ordered, pacing like a caged animal.

"I'm not sitting anywhere. I'm leaving."

"Like hell you are." Ronald's voice was quiet, dangerous. "Not until you tell me why you left six years ago. And don't give me that bullshit about needing space or finding yourself."

Ronald stopped pacing and fixed me with a stare that felt like it could see through my soul. "I saw your face down there, Irene. When I kissed Cordelia. When I proposed to her. You looked like someone was cutting out your heart. So I'm asking you one more time. If watching me with someone else hurts that much, why the fuck did you leave me?"

Sitting in this opulent room, facing the man I'd never stopped loving, the walls I'd built around the truth started crumbling.

"You really want to know?" My voice cracked.

I closed my eyes, and suddenly I was twenty-two again, sitting in a coffee shop in Morningside Heights, across from a woman with cold blue eyes and a voice like winter.

"Six years ago," I started, my voice barely above a whisper, "three days before graduation, I got a phone call. Someone I'd never met wanted to have coffee with me."

"She was elegant. Sophisticated. The kind of woman who belonged in your world." I opened my eyes and looked at Ronald. "She told me she represented people who had been watching us. She knew everything, Ronald. Everything. She knew about your trust fund, your family's business dealings, your father's political connections."

"She said I was going to destroy you." My voice broke. "She had pictures, Ronald. Pictures of your family's business rivals. Evidence of deals gone wrong. She said if I didn't leave you alone, if I didn't end our relationship completely, she would make sure your family lost everything."

"That's impossible—"

"She showed me documentation. Real documentation. Plans to destroy your father's company. Your trust fund. Everything you'd inherit." Tears were streaming down my face now. "She said I was the weakness they would exploit. That as long as you were with me, you'd be vulnerable."

Ronald stared at me. "So you... you blackmailed me for money to make it believable?"

"She said it had to look real. That you had to hate me, or you'd never let me go. She gave me the script, Ronald. She told me exactly what to say to make you despise me." The words tore out of my throat.

"I hated myself for every word," I continued, sobbing now. "But I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was saving your future."

Ronald was silent for a long moment.

"What was her name?" His voice was deadly quiet.

"She never told me. She just said she represented people who wanted you to have the right kind of life. With the right kind of woman."

Ronald turned around slowly. "Someone like Cordelia."

"I guess." I wiped my face with shaking hands. "Ronald, I'm so sorry. I know I should have told you, but she said—"

"Show me."

"What?"

"The documentation. The pictures. You still have them?"

I shook my head. "She took everything back after I... after I left you. Said I'd never need proof again."

"Ronald?" I ventured.

"Six years," he said slowly. "Six years I've been wondering what I did wrong. What I could have done differently."

"You didn't do anything wrong—"

"And six years, someone has been playing us like fucking chess pieces."

A chill ran down my spine. "What do you mean?"

"Three weeks after you left me," Ronald said, his voice frighteningly calm, "my father's company was targeted by a hostile takeover attempt. We fought it off, but it cost us millions."

"Two years later, our biggest client suddenly terminated their contract. Cost us another fortune." Ronald started pacing again. "Last year, the SEC investigated us for securities violations we didn't commit. And six months ago, my trust fund was frozen pending a 'routine audit' that's still ongoing."

"Someone has been systematically attacking my family for six years, Irene. And they started three weeks after you disappeared from my life."

The room felt like it was spinning. "You think—"

"I think whoever wanted us apart got exactly what they wanted. And then they spent six years making sure I was too distracted by business crises to look for you."

Ronald's phone rang. Unknown number.

He answered with a clipped "Ashworth."

The voice that came through the speaker was electronically distorted, but unmistakably female.

"Ronald Ashworth. You should have stayed away from her."

Ronald's hand found mine, gripping it tightly. "Who is this?"

"Someone who warned you six years ago. Through a proxy, of course."

My heart stopped. It was her. The woman from the coffee shop.

"You wanted to separate us," Ronald said, his voice deadly calm. "Mission accomplished. What more do you want?"

"I wanted you to marry Cordelia Whitmore. Instead, you humiliated her on national television."

The laugh that came through the phone was like ice cracking. "Mr. Ashworth, you seem to think you have a choice in this matter."

Ronald stepped closer to me, his free arm wrapping around my waist protectively. "I've got news for you, lady. I'm done playing your games."

"Are you? Even if continuing to see Ms. Reed will cost you everything? Your company, your family's reputation, your freedom?"

Another laugh. "Very well. You have seventy-two hours. To put Ms. Reed on a plane back to wherever she's been hiding. If she's still in New York after seventy-two hours, the consequences will be... severe."

Ronald's grip on me tightened. "What kind of consequences?"

"The kind that destroy everything you've ever cared about. Your choice, Mr. Ashworth. Her, or everything else."

The line went dead.