Page 105 of Kneel with the King
Ava shrugs, giving me a soft smile. “I made a promise.”
“You should call him,” Ari agrees, her voice resolute. “Whoever ‘him’ is.”
I don’t answer, because my chest is already too tight. But I can feel all of them watching me, and for once, it doesn’t feel like they’re waiting to judge, or condemn, or sigh with disappointment.
It feels like they’re waiting for me to let myself be happy.
Later that night, after everyone’s gone to bed, I find myself standing at my living room window, staring down at the city lights. My phone is sitting on the coffee table, screen dark, but my gaze keeps flicking to it like maybe it’ll ring if I look long enough.
It doesn’t, of course. Why would it? I ran away from Ambrose, from the retreat, from everything.
I tell myself it’s better this way, that space is what we both need. That whatever happened between us was a temporary lapse in judgment, a vacation fling,just sex, as I’d said.
But my reflection in the glass doesn’t look convinced. I look tired again—weary and… old.
Tomorrow, the merger meeting will put us in the same room again for the first time since he walked into those woods and I walked out of his life. I should be thinking about contracts and leverage. Instead, all I can think about is whether he’ll even acknowledge me, or if he’ll just look at me like I’m just another deal to close, another company to acquire.
Maybe he feels like he got his revenge.
He did promise to ruin me, so I suppose he got what he wanted all along.
I guess I’ll know tomorrow, whether I’m ready or not.
Return of the King
King
The Fuse boardroomsmells faintly of coffee, and the hum of the city is muted by floor-to-ceiling glass. It’s a gorgeous office, just north of Wall Street, with a perfect view of the East River. It’s bigger than what we had at King & Rowe, and everyone has been friendly so far. Sometimes mergers can create hostility, but the employees here seem to be excited about this one, which is good.
It makes my job easier, at least.
I’m already seated at the head of the table when the door opens, and Asher walks in like he owns the place. Which… I guess until this morning, he basically did. Same crisp suit, same perfectly styled hair… but there’s something in his eyes I don’t remember. Caution, maybe.
Or guilt.
We haven’t spoken since the retreat, when he walked out on me and didn’t look back. I told myself I’d be fine with that. That I’d been expecting it from day one. But the truth is, seeing him now, in our now shared office space, feels like someone just shoved a live wire under my skin.
He doesn’t look at me at first, just nods to Walter, who is of course our first client as Fuse & King. He greets the other execslike nothing is amiss, like we weren’t well on our way to averyreal relationship. Like we didn’t strip each other down to bone and nerve, or sleep tangled together in a bed I never let anyone else share.
These last two weeks have been hell, to be honest. I oscillate between rage and sadness, trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong. Some days I tell myself I dodged a bullet, that the silence is proof we were never built to last. Other days, I wake up with the taste of him still in my mouth and can’t stop replaying the way he looked at me before he left. The devastation splattered across his pretty face.
I buried myself in work, closed three deals, and pretended it didn’t matter… but every night, when my apartment on the East Side was too quiet and there was nothing left to distract me, I felt the weight of him in the empty space beside me.
I hate it. I hate him for leaving.
But I hate myself more for wanting him back anyway.
When Asher’s gaze finally flicks to mine, it’s brief.Controlled.
And it pisses me off more than if he’d glared.
“Mr. Harrison,” I say, deliberately formal.
“Mr. King,” he replies, voice even, as if the last thing I did to him wasn’t make him whimper into my mouth.
The rest of the room doesn’t seem to notice the crackling tension stretching between us, but I can feel it like a tripwire. One wrong move and the whole thing will blow.
I give a quick, introductory speech, thanking everyone for the seamless transition. Asher sits across from me at the table, jaw hard, as he looks at everyone but me.
