Page 8 of Shattered Hearts

He looks me up and down, always so fucking proper in dress pants, dress shirt, and tie. I wonder if he fucks Stella that way.

God, I need to calm down.

I drop into a chair in front of his desk, and he pours me a glass of whatever he’s drinking. Accepting it gratefully, I close my eyes and wish when I opened them things would be different. I know better. Things are fucked, and will be, maybe for the rest of Zarah’s life.

“I didn’t want her to have more shit to worry about.”

“Well, it cuts her off from the world. She needs to be able to communicate.”

“With you, you mean.”

“Not just me. Anybody. Her therapist. Stella, if she’s on campus. I don’t know...you, if you go into the city. But yeah, me, too. We love each other, whether you like it or not.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s not that I don’t like you—”

I raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Seriously. I like you. I think in any other circumstance you would’ve been good for my sister. You didn’t know her before Ash started selling her. She was everything you’d imagine a socialite would be, and after Mom and Dad died, she was so lost. I wasn’t any help. I was licking my own wounds and fucking anything that moved. All this bullshit, I take the blame for. So yes, I think had you two met back then, you could have reminded her that something other than wearing a new dress from the next up-and-coming designer was important. Stella did that for her. Sometimes I forget how close they are. That Zarah’s home because of Stella. Not because of anything I did.”

“But now?” I sip the whiskey, and it slides smoothly down my throat. Stella’s right. Zane’s money can buy some primo booze.

“Isn’t her life complicated enough without throwing love into the mix?”

“Stella stuck by you when you were being an idiot—”

Zane slams his empty glass onto the desk. “Stellasaved my life. Not because she made me realize who Ash was, or because she worked with Max to expose the Blacks as the fucking murderers they are. Shesawme. Sometimes I hated her for that. That she could look right through me and see all my faults and flaws. She challenged me to be better. Forced me, or I knew I’d lose her. If Zarah hadn’t invited her up to the penthouse to have wine and cheesecake, I’d be dead in a ditch. I didn’t want to see what she saw and that would have eventually killed me.”

“Where are you going with this?” I appreciate him being candid, but I don’t know where this conversation’s heading.

“I wish, sometimes I just wish, that she wouldn’t have loved me. That she would’ve walked away. How much better her life would be.”

My throat goes dry. “You’re asking me to break it off.”

“No, but are you willing to live like this? Maybe for the rest of your life?”

“Fuck you. When I say I love her, I’m not saying it to hear myself speak. Wewillget to the bottom of this. Wewillfigure it out. I’m not dumping her because you think she’s a lost cause.”

“That’s not what he thinks.” Dressed in silk pajama bottoms and a matching camisole, Stella walks into the room and slides the doors closed behind her. Her hair is clipped into a messy bun and her feet are bare, but I can see in her features what Zane must have seen the first time he met her. The elegance. The class. What you are because you’re kind, honest. Caring. Not the fake polish millions of dollars can buy at a fancy salon.

She presses a button on a black remote laying on Zane’s desk, and a fire begins to flicker in the fireplace built into a far wall. It won’t do much for heat, but it warms up the atmosphere. Stella perches on Zane’s thigh, and immediately, he wraps his arms around her. She leans into him and pours more whiskey out of the crystal decanter sitting near a small lamp. Calmly, she sips, savors the mouthful, and swallows. “I heard you two bickering.” Setting the glass down and turning to Zane, she says, “Stop saying you don’t deserve me. I love you...the boy you were when we met, and the man you are, right now.” She smooths his tie and adjusts the knot, centering it. “But you have this habit of only being able to see black and white, and there is so much grey. Please stop giving Gage a hard time. You should be grateful he loves her. She needs all the people she can get on her side.”

“Not if he leaves her when things get tough.”

She cups his face in her hands and laughs. “I love you, but you can be such an ass. Things are already tough, and look, he’sright here. You gave him an out, and he didn’t take it. I think he would agree that the Maddox billionaires are hard to shake off.”

“The money—” Zane starts.

“Wasn’t interesting to me, and it’s not to Gage, either. Don’t insult him even more than you already have.” She flicks her gaze to me. “This is the trust part I warned you about. I’m trying to help, but I think I’m failing.”

“I can stick up for myself.”

“I know. Zarah’s upstairs. She wants to say one last goodnight.”

“Stella—”

“Zane. Let him be. Goodnight, Gage.”

I finish off my drink, set the glass on Zane’s desk, and stand. Thank God Stella backed me up. That conversation could have turned ugly, fast. “Goodnight.”

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