Page 67 of The Passion

Jesus Christ, does this mean every person who owns a share is someone he got himself into trouble with? Stupid man.

I hated him before, but this just makes it worse because now I know he is gambling away his daughter’s future too.

Thankfully, as part of the divorce settlement with Felisha’s mother, she insisted that she get a share of the company, and that share was to be put in trust for Felisha until she turned twenty-one. I wonder if Lady Kentwall knew of her husband’s gambling problems, or she had the foresight to secure her daughter’s assets because she didn’t trust her husband.

“Sadly, I understand.” And with my answer, I can see she has decided that this discussion is over for today.

“For that reason, I need time to think about this. But also, understand I do respect the sensitive nature of this, and it stays between you and me. You will have your answer in the next few days.”

As she moves to collect her things, I ask one more question before she stands.

“Is there anything else important that you feel I should know?”

Standing and taking a step beside me, she places her hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Yes.” Lifting her hand, she starts to walk away. “You aren’t the first man this week to approach me and ask to purchase my shares.”

And with that bombshell dropped, she is through the door and gone.

Leaving me sitting in stunned silence for a moment. I slide the NDA off the table back into my jacket and stand up.

“Shit just got real,” I mutter to myself and try to calm my racing brain down as I leave the room.

Who the hell is also trying to attack Ewan?

I think I may have bitten off more than I can chew, but it won’t stop me from storming forward.

I promised I would protect Felisha, whether that’s from her father or even if it’s from an unknown enemy too.

Chapter Fifteen

FELISHA

My heart is beating like crazy.

I’ve never been this nervous on a date, and it’s not for a good reason.

Flynn tried to phone me on my way here, but I didn’t pick up. Sent the call straight to voicemail like I was on the phone. I just can’t talk to him right now. He will be agitated, and that will only make my anxiety worse as he lectures me on his list of demands. I mean, it’s not like I’m old enough to know what I’m doing.

Plus, Fulton is not the type of man to do anything that I don’t want him to. He has only ever been a gentleman to me, a dominant one, but then so is Flynn but just in a different way. Part of me feels guilty for leading Fulton on with this date, but I have to be selfish at the moment. And it’s not like I’m using him for sex or anything. That’s the last thing I even want to think about. I just need to be seen with him and then leave.

It's that simple.

Harper and I have been messaging since I left my apartment where she helped me to get ready. She tried to convince me tocancel last minute because she also thinks this is a really stupid plan.

I’m not actually sure why I ever thought it was a smart idea, but here we are. Not one of my most brilliant decisions, but I just need to get through with it.

As I get out of the car, I half expect to see Flynn standing at the front door with that angry scowl he gets on his face when he is about to explode. In a way I wish he was and that would give me an out, and I could blame him and not feel like I was the weak one who backed out.

“Good evening, Lady Kentwall,” the doorman greets me as I walk in, and I just nod to acknowledge him as the words seem to be stuck in my dry mouth.

Pull yourself together, woman. You’re stronger than this.

Remember, you’re in charge of what happens, no one else.

Walking into the Beaufort Bar, I see Fulton sitting at one of the comfortable couches in their own cubicle. It’s nestled at the back of the room and secluded. This whole bar is decorated in a seductive black and gold that oozes class and money. But all I can think about is that first night I met Flynn sitting at this same bar. The night that changed my life forever. My heart is longing for it to be him that I’m walking toward now and not Fulton. I understand now how different the two of them are, and Fulton is not even in the same league as my man.

It’s dark and sexy and the place you come if you want a quiet drink with a partner or you’re trying to impress someone on a date. There is no way Fulton has to try to impress me. But this is the kind of bar that people like us frequent often. Taking a deep breath, I put on my game face that shows I’m happy to see him and walk toward the back of the room.

I notice Wally, one of the photographers that Harper would have tipped off, sitting at a table facing where Fulton is seated, and he has his phone in his hand. These days they only need aphone, and it would be a bit obvious if he had his normal camera here. He would be thrown out very quickly, and to be honest, probably have the camera taken from him by security.

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