Page 66 of The Debt (The Billionaires Club)

‘Did I ask you for anything more?’ I took a step towards him, emotion flowing through me in a deep, hot flood, making me strong. Filling me with power. ‘I didn’t ask to feel this way about you. I didn’t want it. But I’m not going to lie about it, I’m not going to pretend I don’t feel it. It’s too important, Ash. Because it is a big deal.’

‘Why?’ Anger flared in his eyes, his usual go-to emotion. ‘Because I gave you a workshop? Because I’m funding your project?’

‘No.’ I closed the distance between us and put my hands up, cupping his face between them, watching as he flinched back from me as if my touch had burned him. ‘I love you because you’re arrogant and bossy and demanding. I love you because you’re uncompromising. I love you because you’re dangerous and passionate. I love you because you make me feel powerful and I haven’t felt that way for years.’

He dragged my wrists away from his face, his expression forbidding. The scars were white against his skin, a reminder of his violent past. A reminder of his drive and determination, his ferocity.

But that was not what I saw, not now. All I saw was his vulnerability. The pain of a thirteen-year-old boy being told he wasn’t his father’s problem. The anguish of a young man who’d thought he’d broken his mother’s trust.

A lonely man who pushed people away rather than risk his heart.

What makes you think he even wants you?

I didn’t think he did. But in a way, that didn’t matter. Because whether he returned it or not wasn’t going to change the feeling in my heart. Vast, powerful. My very own perpetual motion engine.

‘I don’t want anything from you,’ I said, before he could say anything. ‘I just wanted to tell you how I feel.’

‘Why?’ he demanded, fury glowing in his eyes and vibrating in his voice. ‘Why the fuck would you want to tell me that? Why the fuck do you think I would be interested?’ His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles white. ‘Don’t you dare put that on me.’ His face was as white as his scars now. White with fury. ‘I don’t want your love, Ellie. And I certainly don’t fucking need it.’

I’d overstepped the mark and I knew it. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have kept quiet. Because of course he wouldn’t know how to deal with this.

He didn’t know what to do with something he didn’t have to fight for.

My heart was nothing but a raw ball of pain, because even though I’d suspected that this would be his response, I couldn’t quite get rid of the stupid hope that perhaps it would be different.

But it wasn’t different. I couldn’t force him to feel something he didn’t. This was one thing I couldn’t fight for. If he didn’t feel the same, he didn’t feel it.

‘Okay,’ I said thickly. ‘It’s okay, Ash. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.’

He stared at me and the expression on his face defeated me. I had no idea what he was thinking in that moment. His scars were vivid, his blue gaze even more so. ‘I’ll leave the car for you.’ He chucked the keys carelessly down on a nearby desk. ‘You can drive yourself home.’

And then he turned and walked out.

Leaving me standing in my brand-new workshop, my heart bleeding in my hands.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Ash

FURY PULSED IN MY VEINS as the cab I’d called delivered me straight to my mother’s council estate. A raw, hot feeling. A familiar feeling.

The same feeling as when Delaney had told me that Seb had given up his claim to the islands.

The feeling of being given something I wanted without having to fight for it.

Something I didn’t deserve.

Ellie, standing in the workshop I’d got ready for her, with tears streaming down her face. Telling me she loved me.

It was the workshop that had done it, that was what it was. It wasn’t me. Just like two weeks ago when we’d had sex in the limo in Paris, and the next day she’d told me about her father’s financial issues.

She’d told me she’d wanted to have sex with me, that it wasn’t anything to do with Australis, but I’d had my doubts then. And I had them still.

Of course it wasn’t me.

None of this was me.

And it didn’t fucking matter. I didn’t care what she thought of me. I didn’t care about the tears on her face or the way she’d said ‘I just wanted to tell you how I feel.’

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