Page 104 of Guarded King

Blinking, she squeezes my arm. “I let the way I was raised and the things my parents taught me control my life for too long. And it cost me. It cost me a relationship with you and your brothers, and it led me to accepting my role in a marriage that was anything but happy. Your father played on those things. That’s his greatest skill, identifying a person’s weakness andusing it against them, using it to manipulate them. It’s why he was so good at business.”

“Until he got greedy.”

She nods. “His own flaw took him down in the end.”

“And you’re happier now?” I study her face as I ask. This is the most personal conversation I’ve had with her in longer than I can remember. If she can make the effort, then the least I can do is meet her halfway.

“I am. I think this must be what freedom feels like.” She touches her cheek and lets out a little self-conscious laugh. “Anyway, here’s my car. Thank you for walking me out. And for god’s sake, don’t take that woman back. You deserve better.”

A reluctant smile tugs at my lips. “I won’t.”

She sniffs and pulls her shoulders back, returning to her usual poised self. “Good.” With that, she sweeps elegantly toward the car, where her driver is holding her door open for her.

With a shake of my head, I turn to go back into the building. Before I can enter, though, I stop. I don’t want to be here. Cole and Tate are inside flying the flag for the King Group, so there’s no reason I can’t leave.

I take out my phone and message Phillip. Then, grinning, I message Tate, anticipating how he’ll respond.

Taking off early. Enjoy the party.

My phone dings as his reply hits in record time.

Who are you and what have you done with my brother?

I chuckle, though my humor fades as I consider his question. Something in me has shifted, and whether it’s for better or worse remains to be seen. My goals and priorities are the same—they have to be. While leaving early from a social event, even with many of our competitors and clients still networking, may be excusable, being distracted the way I have been in the office can’t continue. I need to put more effort into regaining focus. I need to put any thoughts of repeating what happened with Chloe permanently out of my mind.

Whatever that takes.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHLOE

“Do you have the file for this morning’s meeting?”

Roman’s large frame fills his office doorway, the intensity of his focus setting my heart fluttering in a way I wish I could control.

Forcing a professional smile, I find the file on my desk and hold it up. “I was about to bring it in.”

He strides toward me and plucks it from my hand. After flicking through it, he nods. “Nice work.” Without another look or a single word more, he turns and retreats toward his office.

A hot knife slices through me. Lola was right. I need to look after my mental health and focus on doing this job to the best of my abilities. And I need to stop tying myself in knots over Roman. Even if the distance between the two of us feels greater now than when I first started working for him.

That’s reality, though, and I don’t need a reminder of why I wanted this position to start with. Dad’s condition has already begun to improve, and Carol’s been amazing. It puts my mind at ease knowing he’s not alone at home all day.

I wouldn’t have that if it wasn’t for this job, so that’s what I’ll focus on. Not the way Roman’s white shirt stretches acrosshis wide shoulders and the firm planes of his chest. A chest I’ve trailed my fingers over, pressed my lips to, tasted.

The memories send a confused butterfly winging its way around my stomach.

In response, I let out a frustrated breath, causing him to stop at his door. He turns and studies me in a way that still has the power to accelerate my pulse. Rather than question me, he checks his watch.

“What time is Wright Construction getting here?”

“They’ll be here at one thirty.”

“Okay.” He regards me for a long moment, his jaw tightening, then he steps into his office and closes the door behind him.

My shoulders sag. But I force down my disappointment and focus on my screen, determined to work through my painfully mixed emotions.

When one thirty rolls around, I follow Roman into the meeting room, where the team from Wright is already gathered, taking the seat beside his at the head of the table.

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