Page 69 of Confusing Cade
I snatched the notepad, my fingers trembling as I flipped through the first few pages. Even a cursory glance revealed Chris’s meticulous work, the pages so thorough it felt like a blade, sharp and undeniable. “He’s... he’s my best friend.”
The words burned in my throat, heavy with years of trust. Late nights. Shared secrets over beers. Golf. This was David, who’d stood by me when this company was hardly mine, and who knew my fears, my flaws, my everything.Fuck this.
Chris’s jaw tightened, his eyes steady but not unkind. “I know you trust him.”
“Trusted,” I spat, the past tense like acid on my tongue. My gaze hardened, locking onto Chris. “You never did, though, did you?”
“Something about him always felt...strange.” Chris leaned forward. “Page five. That’s the worst of it. He hacked Bella’s FanZone account. Planned to use it to blackmail her. And you.”
The air left my lungs, my jaw dropping as the words sank in. “Are you fucking serious?”
The man who’d toasted my successes, who’d laughed with me at Jennings’s parties, who’d been closer than a brother? The betrayal clawed at my chest, a raw, jagged wound. He hadn’t only undermined the company, he’d targeted Bella and then weaponized her against me. Every memory of him twisted, tainted now. Was every time he spoke to me a mask for this?
And why?
“I wish I wasn’t serious,” Chris said, his voice low, steady, an anchor to make sure I didn’t do something drastic. The way things were going, I very well could.
“But you’re sure?” My voice cracked, desperation seeping through. I wanted him to be wrong, needed him to be wrong.
“Triple-checked. I kept digging, hoping I’d find something to clear him.” Chris paused. “There’s nothing.”
“It sounds like I need to fire RepuMang immediately,” I said, the words thick around my anger and frustration.
“It’s a big screw up from them. Massive oversight.”
I snapped the notepad shut, my hands shaking. Setting aside their huge mistake, this truth about David was a wrecking ball. It wasn’t just the Promenade. This was personal. He’d targeted Bella, dragged her into his scheme, and for what? I needed to hear it from him. I needed to look him in the eye and understand how he could do this.
The notepad sat on my desk like a live grenade, its pages brimming with truths I couldn’t unsee. Chris’s words echoed in my skull.David. It’s David. My best friend. My brother in all but blood.The man who’d stood by me through every deal, every late night, every victory, and every failure. My chest burned, a molten mix of rage and grief, as if someone had ripped out my ribs and left me hollow. How could he do this? My fingers twitched, itching to tear the notepad apart, to shred the evidencethat turned my world upside down. But Ineededit. Needed it to confront him. To see his face when he realized the game was up.
“Get David in here,” I said to Chris, my voice cold, barely recognizable, like it belonged to someone else—someone harder, someone who hadn’t just had his trust shattered. “Now.”
Chris nodded, his face grim, and stepped out to make the call. The silence in the office was suffocating, the hum of the air conditioner a mocking whisper against my pounding pulse. I stared at the notepad, its yellow cover glaring back, taunting me with the weight of betrayal. David. Bella. The Promenade. My life’s work, my heart, my future. It was all tangled in his lies. My hands clenched the arms of my chair, the leather creaking under my grip, grounding me just enough to keep from hurling the desk across the room.
Ten minutes later, the door opened, and David sauntered in, his usual swagger dialed up, a smug tilt to his lips. But his eyes darted to the notepad, then back to me, a flicker of wariness breaking through his polished facade.He knows something’s wrong.The thought sent a fresh wave of fury through me, my blood roaring in my ears.
“Cade,” he said, his voice smooth,toosmooth. He flashed that easy smile, the one that had closed deals and charmed investors. “What’s this about? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Sit.”
The word sliced through the air, sharp enough to cut glass. I leaned forward, my elbows digging into the desk, my gaze locked on his.Don’t you dare play innocent with me. He hesitated, his smile faltering for a split second, then dropped into the chair across from me, legs crossed, casual as ever. I slid the notepad toward him, slow and deliberate, watching every twitch of his face. “Explain this.”
He glanced at the pages, his jaw tightening, but his expression stayed cool, almost defiant. “What’s this supposed tobe? Some kind of report?” His tone was light, dismissive, as if he could wave this away like a bad joke.
“Don’t act dumb.” My voice trembled, rage clawing up my throat, threatening to choke me. I pressed my palms against the desk. “You hacked Bella’s FanZone account. You tried to blackmail her. To hurt me. Why?”
David’s face paled, but only for a moment. Then his eyes flashed as if I were the one who’d crossed a line. He leaned back, folding his arms, his posture screaming confidence, like a man who’d never imagined getting caught. “Cade, listen to me,” he said, his voice low and patronizing, as if he were explaining something to a child. “I did what needed to be done.”
What needed to be done?The words hit like a punch, stealing my breath. My vision blurred at the edges, the room shrinking to just him and me, the air thick with his arrogance.
“You were my brother,” I said, standing, my hands braced against the desk, knuckles white. “I trusted you with everything. My company, my life, my... Bella. How could you do this? How could you go after her? For what?”
He didn’t flinch. Instead, he tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with a righteous certainty that made my stomach churn.
“I was protecting you, Cade,” he said, his voice steady, almost pious. “You’re forty. She’s... fuck, she’s twenty-five. A kid with a past that could drag you down. That FanZone account? Those pictures? You think that’s not a scandal waiting to happen? You’re on the cusp of a congressional run, for Christ’s sake. I saw the risk, and I acted. Someone had to.” He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a fervent whisper. “I saved you from her. From yourself.”
“Saved me?”
My laugh was bitter, hollow, echoing in the hollowed-out space where our friendship used to live.He believes this. He believes he’s the hero. My fist slammed against the desk, theimpact jarring up my arm, a sharp sting that matched the one in my chest.
