Page 8 of Come Here and Kiss Me

Mr. Michaels flinches back, surprised by my statement.

“I had no idea that I was being recorded in the private establishment I own.”

“Not just you.” The hard tone from Dean Chambers, Brooklyn’s father, is met with the slamming of his fist at the end of the table. “You weren’t the only one recorded,” he reaffirms with a menacing tone.

Quite honestly, I can’t blame the prick for his barely contained anger.After all, what I did to his daughter last night is something I’m sure no father would ever want to see. Especially his little girl.

“No, it wasn’t just me. You see…” I pause for a second, catching my bearings before I drop what can only be described as the biggest lie of my life. Standing my ground, I confess with more ease than I thought possible. “My fiancée was also filmed last night without her consent.”

Adrenaline soars through my veins as several men loudly gasp, and the lone woman on the board stares back at me with wide eyes of disbelief as she repeats, “Your fiancée?”

“Yes, of course. That’s the only reason I’d ever engage in that manner with a university student. I’m sure you can understand that she and I?—”

“Bullshit!” her father roars at the end of the table. Huffing and puffing like a fucking lunatic. As his chest rises and falls, it dawns on him that the room is calm, that this is a far better resolution for the board and the university than filing anything or making any statements to the public.

With all eyes on him, he readjusts his tie and sits back, not daring to look at anyone else.

“Yes.” I spin back to Mrs. Sanders. “As you can imagine, my fiancée is mortified, as am I, that we were taken advantage of and that someone would violate our intimate privacy in that manner.”

I can barely breathe, my entire body on fire as I wait to see if it works. If they believe me. If they’ll allow this to slide and let it be. It’s truly best for all of them except for the one man at the end of the table, parallel to me, who’s probably contemplating my murder. If it weren’t for any witnesses, he more than likely would. I try not to relish in the feeling of knowing he hates me just as much as I hate him, and now I’m engaged to his only daughter.

In the end, I win.

“The board will do everything in our power to help identify this individual.” Mr. Michaels speaks up, breaking the tension in the room.

I remember the look on Brooklyn’s face this morning and the anger at whoever the fuck dared take advantage of her. With that thought in mind, I thank Mr. Michaels. She doesn’t deserve that shit.

I run a hand through my hair and thank the board for their discretion and understanding. All the while, glimpses of Brooklyn from that video and from real life last night as she writhed under me flash before my eyes.

Fuck.

My cock hardens at the thought.

It’s an odd sensation that comes over me… The desire to fucking murder whoever saw Brooklyn with me and recorded us while being grateful for not losing my job and the last decade of my career just barely being saved by this lie she planned for us.

“Congratulations on your engagement,” Mrs. Sanders says while standing. “I don’t believe there’s anything else to discuss at this time.”She’s quick to leave, no doubt unimpressed with the entire ordeal.

The room empties out, and I’m uncertain if they believe we’re engaged or if they’re just relieved they don’t have to deal with the scandal. Either way, half don’t look me in the eyes as they leave. They all look at Dean Chambers, though, but he doesn’t bother to spare them a glance. He stays seated, his chair swaying slowly left and right, and I wait just like he does for everyone else to leave.

I’m fully aware this isn’t the end of our conversation. If anything, it’s just the beginning.

My collar is hot and tight at my neck as I stare down Brooklyn’s father.My cuff links are buffed and shine with wealth. I’ve known this man all my life—from poker nights with my father and social gatherings and galas. From contracts and business deals gone wrong, we wrecked any professional relationship we might have had.

He’s never looked at me with so much disdain. Even after all the shit we’ve been through, never like this. Hell I probably know him better than my father, his former friend and longtime foe, does. Both of our families have fuck you money most can’t even comprehend… but fucking his daughter? Hell, even a prick like me knows better.

I know how money moves and how much is at stake. So I patiently wait, biding my time. All the while, the memory of Brooklyn’s cunt and how good she felt keep me wondering if last night was worth it.

“Does your father know about this?” he questions when we’re left with nothing but tormenting silence. The door to the conference room remains open, so he keeps his voice low. Not wanting anyone to hear what he has to say to me.

I clear my throat. “I’ve yet to tell him.” I hold his gaze, and all I see is spite from a man who has every right to hate me.

“And what do you think he’ll have to say about?—”

“She’s my fiancée,” I stress as if that’s going to smooth over the ripples it’ll cause in social circles that fucking matter.

“Bullshit,” her father practically spits. He holds nothing but venom as he spews, “There’s no fucking way she’d ever be with a man like you.”

My lips pick up into a smirk at a thought.

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