Page 20 of Thorns of Malice

I huff. "What the fuck is my problem? My problem is you. It's been you for years. And you know what, Bobby? I've been waiting for this moment. Your days are numbered, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. So go enjoy whatever exotic destination you want. You'll be locked up soon."

He grabs a tissue off my desk and wipes blood from his face. He lowers his voice, gritting out, "You've been waiting for this moment to accomplish what?"

"To watch you get what's coming to you," I admit.

"What's coming to me? What, are you a thug now?" he asks.

I scowl. "Call me what you want, Bobby, but I guarantee you, your fun days are over. Enjoy them while you can. And you might want to stop drugging women now. You're a bit in the spotlight at the moment."

He rises, lifts his chin, and curls his fists at his sides. "If you want a war, Dax, you have one."

I laugh. "We've already been at war. All of us have, and you know it. Avery. Cindy. Marcey. Lilly. You. Me. All of us. So, like I said, go back to the South of France, because any moment you spend in this town, I'll make hell for you."

He studies me another minute and then raises a finger and points it at me. "You're going to pay for this. All of this. And when my father and I get done with you, there'll be nothing left of Carrington Enterprises."

I smile. It's twisted, and I know it. I reply, "I welcome it. Tell your father to bring everything you got at me because you're fucking going to need it. The lawsuits coming your way after all the women you've been with take TimeMarker will be icing on the cake."

He scowls again and shoves a paperweight off my desk, and a bunch of papers fly into the air and flutter to the floor. He spins on his heel and leaves.

I pick up the phone and hit the button for security.

The head of my security teams for the estate and my corporation answers, "Mr. Carrington."

"Chad, I need you to ensure Bobby Winston's escorted out of here. Don't let him in my building ever again. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Chad says with confusion in his voice.

I don't blame him. Bobby's had the run of the office for years, just like he did with our estate.

I add, "Make sure you contact the estate security. He never steps foot there again either. Understand?

"Yes, sir," Chad answers and hangs up.

I pace the office and stare out my window at the water, wishing it was warm and I was on a boat with Ivy. I squeeze my eyes shut and curse myself.

I have to stop wishing these things. I have to figure out how to let it go—how to lethergo.

I know I can't. I've never been able to. And all this unveiling of Seducing Ivy perfume, the flowers, and the drugs seems to have made it even worse.

My need—my craving—to have her as mine once again, but for real this time, only grows with time. Yet there's no way to make what I've done right.

She slept with Avery.

I grind my molars, my stomach churning, trying to use that little fact to remind myself that she never was mine. Anyone who sleeps with Avery can't be mine.

It could have been from the drugs.

No, she wanted it. She fell for Avery.

I don't know that.

She did.

My debate continues until it drives me crazy. I finally sit back at my desk and pull up my spreadsheets again, looking at the numbers.

I grab my pen and write in my notebook.

$14 million from Avery.

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