Page 8 of Million Dollar High

His gaze drifted to the corner of the pool where he’d dragged Leia less than half an hour ago. Yeah, his ex-fiancée continued to cost him dearly, but trying to blame Ashley for Leia walking away was a little too convenient. The truth was Leia wouldn’t have walked if they’d been solid enough. If she’d trusted him enough to give him a chance. He turned away from the view outside and faced the woman who made the view inside even less palatable.

Suddenly, he couldn’t stand to be in his condo.

The spartan look of the whole place filled his vision. Was it only a couple of weeks ago that his friends had accused him of using this place just to sleep? The truth of it hit him between the eyes.

Besides his clothes and the work stuff in his home office, there wasn’t much here. When he’d left New York, he’d packed everything of emotional value and shipped it to his brother in Chicago. Much of his childhood was locked away in crates in his brother’s garage. He’d never made an effort to turn this place into a home. The view he used to love was now soured by memories of standing outside, listening to Leia walk away.

He was an asshole in many ways, but he’d learned, at great expense, that he had to draw a rigid line where Ashley was concerned. She pushed too many buttons for him to risk staying around her for too long. He’d thought himself free of her, but the fury eating away beneath his skin told him otherwise.

Returning to the intercom, he picked up the handset. “Miguel, have Miss Maitland’s cases brought up.” He hung up and saw her pleased smile.

“I can stay here?”

He retrieved his phone and scrolled through the numbers till he found the one he was looking for. “Until we sort things out, you can stay here, sure. Like you said, if you’re carrying my child, I can’t turf you out into the street.”

“Great, I knew you would see sense and give us a ch?—”

“This is Noah King. Put me through to Rex Hartford, please.” Noah had the satisfaction of seeing Ashley’s face drop when she realized he didn’t intend to engage her in conversation. “Hartford… no, I’m not calling to check up on you. I wouldn’t have invested in your company if I didn’t think it was sound. But I do need a favor. Can you send me a list of available properties? Yeah, email is fine. ASAP please. Thanks.” He heard Ashley’s affronted gasp. When he turned around, she was glaring at him.

“You’re leaving me here on my own?” she asked.

“I don’t know how else to say this to you so you’ll understand. I really, really don’t want to be with you, Ashley. Ever.”

Her face crumpled.

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t even think about starting with the fake water works. You created this fucking circus all on your own. For the sake of the child you’re supposedly carrying, I’m not going to toss you out. You can use this condo until I verify your lies. But your presence here has tainted this place for me. So congratulations, you got yourself a roof over your head after all.”

“You really hate me, don’t you?” she asked, her voice curiously hushed.

Noah noticed her trembling hand when she set the glass down. Needing to hammer home his point, he looked into hereyes, to make sure she didn’t mistake his next words. “Yes. I really do.” Jerking his chin at the half-empty bottle of water, he sent her a grim smile. “Now drink up.”

An hour later, Noah dumped his overnight and laptop cases in the suite one floor above his office. He’d only needed the essentials from his condo.

Crossing to the well-stocked bar, he poured himself a shot of whiskey. He downed it in one go, welcoming the temporary warmth that burned its way into his gut.

The glass tumbled from his fingers onto the counter and rolled to a stop.

He was going to be a father…

Despite knowing in his gut that Ashley was telling the truth, a part of him had held out the belief that it was all one huge fucking joke. But five tests—done in his presence because he didn’t trust Ashley one iota—had made reality impossible to dismiss.

He was going to be a father.

He clamped shaky fingers in his hair and paced the living room. Walking past the bar, he considered having another drink. But he needed to remain sharp, or as sharp as he could be, considering the punch to his system every time the word “father” rolled through his brain.

Turning away from the temptation to drown himself in alcohol, he went down to his office. At his desk, he dialed the private number.

After a few minutes, an incredulous laugh echoed down the line. “Ah, I know you’re not into practical jokes but I have to ask if you’re serious. Did you just say?—”

“Yes, I did. Trust me, Sam. I wish I were joking.”

Sam Ferranti, his attorney and a partner at one of the most prestigious law firms in Miami, cleared his throat. “I have to look up case law on this, Noah. If you’d been married and then divorced, it wouldn’t have been clear-cut, but it would’ve been easier because there’s precedent. This is slightly more uncharted territory.”

“Then here’s your chance to make history. But make it quickly.”

“I understand,” Sam responded immediately. The bone-deep bewilderment and anger in Noah’s voice had clearly transmitted. “I’m assuming she would’ve needed you to accompany her to the clinic in order to get the embryos,” Sam continued. “Since you didn’t, do you know how she acquired the embryos on her own?”

Noah’s skin crawled at the memory of Ashley’s answer when he’d asked the same question. “She talked her twin brother into posing as me.” The scale of Ashley’s duplicity chilled Noah’s blood.

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