Page 17 of Beauty and her Billionaire Beast
8
Knox
I never thought it would come to this. I can’t get Isabelle out of my head. Pops’ news is also stuck on repeat, delivering a crushing blow to my gut over and overagain.
This is really fuckingbad.
I look out the window after Isabelle and her parents leave, waiting for Pops to finishwhat he started before they arrived. My hands run through my hair and I take a deep breath, hoping this night will end before toolong.
My brain can’t decide what to focus on. Pops’ illness causes my blood to run cold. It devastates me, then the thought of Isabelle in my lap crowds it out. They’re competing for air time, sending me into a downward spiral, and all I know is if I can getthe fuck out of here, I might have a chance to breatheagain.
“You okay, son?” Popsasks.
“No. I’m not.” I reply. “I don’t understand why you kept something this big from me for all this time. How can you get to stage four cancer and exhaust every possible avenue without my knowing a thing about it? Why didn’t you tell mesooner?”
“Because I knew that you’d worry.” His facesoftens a little, and fills with genuine concern for me. “I was protecting you for as long as I could. There wasn’t any point, having you stress and fret over me for two years while my doctors did their thing and my body did therest.”
Two years? Two fuckingyears?
“I deserved toknow.”
He gives me a weak smile but doesn’t answer. None of this is fair, and it shouldn’t havegone down this way. He’s effectively shortened the time I have to come to terms with his illness and let go. It’s a childish notion, but I can’t stand the thought of that. I don’t want to losehim.
“I want to see you at our weekly board meetings, starting next week,” he says and I let out an audible groan from the back of my throat. Our server comes by with the check and hand-held creditcard processor. I shove my black card into his hand dismissively. Pops frowns as the kid runs my card and leaves. He can tell that I’m close to losing my shit, but presses on with trivial talk of business. “You need to have a firm grasp of how we run the day-to-day. And on the otheritem—”
“You mean the part where you cut me out of your will if I don’t step up at Steele Industries and ifI don’t pick a woman and get hitched? Thatpart?”
“Looks to me like you’re well on your way to figuring out the hitched part,” he answers with a smirk, and his eyes drift over to the empty chair next to me where Isabelle sat duringdinner.
He’s out of his mind if he thinks getting me hitched is that simple. I’m not husband material, for starters, and Isabelle wouldn’t dream of marryingsomeone like me. She knows me too well. I’m not good enough forher.
“Get Isabelle Harrison out of your meddling marriage plans. Neither of us will go forit.”
“Boy, you’re a fool if you let some other man win herover.”
The mere thought of another man touching Isabelle drives me close to rage. I want to punch something, and I have no fucking business being jealous, but Ifuckingam.
“Wait…you and Isabelle… are you two already seeing each other?” Pops asks, scrutinizing my face. I look away and don’t say a word. He chuckles. “Oh, you moved in on her, didn’t you? I was wondering how she could leave the table and come back with less makeup on her face than when she first got here. I can see why she’s perfect for you. She’s a good girl… poised, beautiful, andshe’s always been a good friend toyou.”
“No. Not another word.” I push my chair back and stand so abruptly that the table and all the glasses shake. “We’re donetalking.”
“I beg to differson.”
“What? Are you trying to tell me that these demands are part of some ultimatum? No disrespect, but you know full well that I don’t respond well tothreats.”
He drops his handto the tabletop and pushes off to stand but stumbles a little, his body seeming fragile and frail for the first time tonight. I rush to his side, feeling like the asshole that I know I am through and through. I’m riddled with guilt for arguing with the old man, the villain for adding stress and tension to his already terminal healthprognosis.
“Let’s get you home,” I tell him, shoulderingsome of his weight with my arm at hiselbow.
“Don’t think for a second that I won’t hold you to these two demands,” he persists once inside his limo. “And don’t let that girl slip away just because I insist on being a hardass for a change. You’ll regret it. Mark my words,son.”
“It hardly matters now, she doesn’t want me. Not in the way you think. Anyway, I’ll have Dominic followyour driver so I can make sure you get to bed allright.”
I let his driver leave then sit alone in my limo for the ride to his place, hating the helplessness Ifeel.
I sink into bed and look up at the ceiling. It’s pointless lying here. I won’t be getting any sleep tonight. Not when my brain is so wired, my body is this restless, and with every aspect ofmy life in utter chaos. From one minute to the next, uncertainty becomes theconstant.
I flip over and tug open my nightstand drawer, searching for the only photograph of my parents that I keep around. Most of their stuff is in storage where I grew up. It hurt too fucking much to keep looking at, but this portrait of them on their wedding day is more or less bearable. It was a time wherethey were together and I wasn’t in the picture yet. Something about that distance makes it easier for me to find comfort in theirfaces.
