Page 66 of Power
“I know what it states.” He grabbed the back of his head, fingers threading through his dark hair like this information was beyond distressing. And then he locked his eyes with mine again. “The truth is, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the moment you fell at my feet in that bar. I’ve never had these feelings for another woman. It’s quite … distracting.”
It was adorable, watching this big, powerful man admit a loss of control. Mr. Billion-Dollar Spreadsheets, suddenly unable toexplain his feelings with a neat formula or PowerPoint presentation.
“Why do you think that is?” I asked.
“I tried to convince myself it was just the circumstances,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “Strangers meeting by chance, with no intention of ever talking again.” His lips quirked up momentarily. “We both got to check our real identities at the door and just … enjoy each other. No agendas, no games, no me wondering if you were after my bank account or company stock.”
He sighed.
“Do you know how rare that is for me?” His voice dropped. “Not having to be Jace Lockwood, Wall Street’s golden child, watching every word in case it ends up quoted in theFinancial Times?” He shook his head. “With you, I didn’t need the armor. I just got to be … free.”
Something shifted inside me as his guard dropped: a dangerous fault line opening where I’d thought there was only solid ground. Now threatening to unleash an earthquake.
“But that’s not why I can’t get you out of my head,” he continued. “There was this … moment … when you fell to the ground at that bar.” He paused, searching for words, frustration crossing his features. “I’m not usually this inarticulate. I run a multibillion-dollar company, for God’s sake.”
My mouth arched up. It was as strange as it was thrilling (and flattering) that I had this kind of power over him.
“The second we touched, the moment we locked eyes … something shifted. Like that first subtle crack in the snow before an avalanche.” His attention on me intensified. “And then every moment we spent together after that … every touch, every conversation, it just gained momentum, gained intensity.” He ran his fingers through his hair again, looking like he’d tried incredibly hard to outrun whatever this was. “I know how it sounds. I’ve spent three days telling myself I’m being ridiculous.”
Jace took another step closer, close enough that I could smell his expensive cologne.
“Things don’t just happen to me,” he continued. “I make them happen. My life runs on forecasts, and five-year plans. Then you literally crashed into my life. Completely unplanned, totally unpredictable, and it’s the best damn thing that’s happened to me in years.”
Me too.
“When Sunday night came”—he grimaced slightly—“when I had to honor that promise to never see you again, I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t focus. Monday morning, I botched two calls with investors because all I could think about was …” He gestured vaguely toward me. “And then I walked onto that stage, looked out at all those faces, and there you were.” His expression shifted between guilt and undeniable excitement. “God help me, but for a split second, I was actually happy to see you there. An HR nightmare in the making, and I’m standing there, thinking,I get to see her again.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Only to realize seconds later what an impossible position that puts you in. Your boss’s boss’s boss’s”—he frowned—“boss.”
The room fell silent. Jace’s confession hung in the air between us.
“After we talked about the NDA, I told myself to let it go. Move on.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yet hours later, I showed up outside your place, using that same NDA as an excuse to see you again.”
And then he saw the most intimate thing in my life: my dysfunctional family and the way my father used us as punching bags. I could see the shift in Jace’s expression hardening, just like his voice did.
“One minute, I’m telling myself to leave, and the next, I’m seeing some man lay his hands on you.” His jaw tightened. After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke again, his voice careful, measured. “How many times has your father hurt you, Scarlett?”
I flinched as his gaze seared through me with such fire that I looked away, walking to the window. Outside, Chicago sprawled before me in a runway of amber lights and dark shadows. A fewfloors down, a couple argued on the street corner, their gestures animated but voices lost to the night. Across the way, someone’s lonely television flickered blue against their curtains. The “L” train rumbled in the distance, carrying people to their own complicated lives. It was easier to watch strangers navigate their problems than face the man behind me, waiting for answers I wasn’t sure I wanted to give.
“I never talk about this. Not with anyone.” Not anymore. My closest friends knew, of course, so I guess I should have said it was a subject I preferred not to share with others. But Jace saw my father hit me. There was no point in pretending anymore.
“My dad can be a really charming guy when he wants to be,” I finally started. “And while he comes from a very broken place with his childhood, he chose to never get help.”
I turned back to face Jace, needing him to understand.
“Not once in all the time my mom and I begged. As a young girl, I literally sobbed, pleading with him. It only made him angrier and more violent.” My voice cracked. “Every day, I’d watch that front door, wondering which version of my dad was going to come home. The dad that hugged us or the dad that was looking for a fight.” I swallowed hard. “I hated the power he held over my mother. He held all the cards. Financially, physically, emotionally, psychologically. Through their marriage, he wore her down to an absolute nub.”
Jace hadn’t moved, but his eyes never left my face, like he was absorbing and cataloging every word. Here was a man who, arguably, had far more important things to do right now with his major corporate takeover. But the only thing he seemed to care about in this moment was me. In fact, his phone had buzzed no less than ten times tonight, and he’d never even looked at it; instead, he kept his attention fixed on me.
I ran a trembling hand down my pant legs. “It was almost like my dad had puppet strings tied to different facets of my mom’s psyche. She might finally get strong and decide that, financially, she would figure it out, so he would come after her with anotherangle.” My breath hitched. “He always had something up his sleeve to press her back down, to keep her submitted to him.”
Jace’s expression darkened. “And he hit you too.”
It wasn’t a question. More like … a veiled threat. Like anyone hurting me was of sudden extreme importance to him.
“I was in college the first time she officially left him,” I continued. “It didn’t stick. He convinced her to come back, and she stayed there, even after he broke her nose.”
Jace made a sound low in his throat, something primal and angry.
“After that, she made various attempts to leave, but again, none of them stuck. Sometimes, she would go back because, financially, she was struggling. She would run out of money, or she would lose her job. But mostly, he just had this psychological hold over her that I could never seem to cut, no matter how hard I tried.” My voice hardened. “This is the longest she’s stayed away from him, and I swear to God, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she never goes back. Not this time. Not ever again.”
