Page 42 of Claiming Charlotte

I thought I’d been doing a great job at that, and we both felt closer to normal than we had since Walker took everything. Our relationship wasn’t so rocky anymore, though we had our days. I hated fighting with her, if that was what you would call them, and Charlotte threw herself harder into running the business with me by her side.

I didn’t talk much myself, only to Charlotte and those closest to us, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak louder than hushed whispers, and I didn’t know if that was for me or her. I thought it was funny that some of the newer guys questioned whether or not I spoke at all. If I didn’t want or need to, I didn’t, plain and simple.

We were becoming a true team, and I was content with keeping myself in check for the time being just to make sure Charlotte was okay. And since everything was better between her and me, it was finally time to take my own revenge. Lottie believed in mercy, she actually asked me at one point to forget about it, but I wouldn’t. She wouldn’t have the closure she needed if I didn’t.

So no, I wouldn’t be listening to her, and they wouldn't be receiving any fucking mercy from me.

Charlotte

I pushed open the door to my father’s study— my study; I needed to get used to that— and heard a commotion from within. My heart pounded, and I flinched a bit hearing a pounding, but I was placated when I saw Rowan on the floor with a bunch of stuff around him.

“Hey, Rowan,” I said, walking closer and taking a deep, calming breath. He glanced up at me.

“What’s up, Princess?” he asked, then got back to work shoving a wheel into a piece of metal.

“Wondering what you’re doing,” I said, cocking an eyebrow at the pencil that sat behind his ear.

“I’m giving you a new chair. You can’t sit in that folding chair forever, you know,” he said, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead.

My eyes widened in surprise. It was completely unexpected, and completely something I could have — should have— already done myself. The air felt different in the room, almost stuffy, but warmer. I glanced around and noticed brand new glass in the window. He must have fixed that, too.

My heart swelled with gratitude. I knew he loved me, and he was showing it every single day. I watched him as he worked, the sunlight filtered through the new window pane sparkling off his chain necklace. The buttons on his shirt were loose, and without thought, his fingers moved to remove another one exposing more of his chest. I couldn’t get my brain to focus.

I felt ungrateful knowing the conversation we were about to have. I sat down on the arm of the couch, trying not to squirm as I peeled my eyes away from his form.

“Thank you so much for everything you do, Rowan,” I said, my voice unintentionally sultry.

I didn’t want to have this conversation, but it needed to be done. I held up the files I carried in my arms.

“Oh no,” he laughed. “What's the but?”

“How do you know there’s a but?” I quirked. He tilted his head toward me with a smile and rose from the floor.

“What are these?” I asked.

He took the files from me and paged through them, his eyebrows knitting together as a puzzled expression overtook him. “Why did you go through my stuff?”

He clambered stiffly to his feet.

“Why did you try to hide them? I know your plan.” I said, and he moved quickly, closing the space between us. “You don’t have to do this; no amount of bodies you drop at my feet will change what happened.”

It was suddenly hot in the room, and I wished for the breeze that used to blow through the broken window.

“You deserve justice,” he said firmly.

“You can’t play God, Rowan,” I said, my voice scolding.

He dropped the files behind me on the couch and pulled me into his embrace. He tangled his fingers in my hair and tilted my head back. My pulse raced with excitement as his nose trailed along my throat and I swallowed down a moan.

“Watch me,” he whispered menacingly. “Who’s going to stop me? You?”

I swallowed thickly, remaining in his embrace for a moment. I had to pull my eyes away from his intense gaze, peeling his arms off my waist as I stepped back. I felt his eyes burning into me as I walked around my desk and opened a drawer with a sigh. “You have already made up your mind, and I won’t stop you.”

The white mask prodded at my memories, and I shook them away as I pulled it from the drawer carrying it back to him.

“I can give you this outlet if you keep it clean and quiet,” I said curtly. “I don’t want to clean up your mess.”

He turned the mask over in his hand and nodded. “I can do that,” he said, smirking.

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