The calm receded almost instantly and the fury rushed back in. "Headlines." I stormed away from her. Left her standing there with stars and gumdrops and unicorns in her eyes. She worked in marketing and public relations. She should know better than anyone that I couldn't just brush this off. My public image had been butchered in the media. Sure, I was the boss and no one uttered a word loud enough for me to hear, but their looks formed the letters and sounds that chipped away at the foundation of the business I'd built.
You're nothing more than an animal. Just like him.
It always came back to her. The hate burning like acid. Hate I had every right to feel towards her for what she did to me.
The mother that never showed me an ounce of love and compassion.
And the betrayal that turned me into a man that didn't do love and attachment, before Melissa.
I went to the liquor cabinet and pulled out the bottle that would turn the burn into something numbing. Help me catch my breath. It was all coming apart at the seams, pulling me into the pit of memories. I knew once I opened the door and went back to that place, there'd be no return. But I had tunnel vision, and all the reasons to keep the cork in the bottle disintegrated as I threw the bottle back and let the fire race down my throat.
If she knew what was good for her, Melissa would have followed Mackenzie. I almost opened my mouth to tell her so, but she picked up the bottle. She poured the amber liquid into a glass and brought it to her lips.
She winced, running her fingers through her hair. The golden locks drifted over one shoulder as she looked at me. It would be easier if she were judging me, easier to put the walls up before I let her get any closer. But it was too late to go back. Too late to not let her in. Keeping her at a distance, my beautiful, fierce submissive who opened her body and soul to me, was not an option.
I emptied my glass and poured myself a second. I waited until I knew my voice was steady before I pretended I was alright. "I feel like I should be making some sort of joke."
Melissa raised her chin, but her eyes were locked on her glass. "There's nothing funny about what Delilah has done."
Hurt sliced my chest, but I snuffed it out as best I could. "Some might say I deserved it."
Her gaze shot upward, like I'd just uttered the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. "How could anyone think you deserve this?"
"I turned sex into a transaction," I answered, my voice hollow. "Nothing monetary, but it was a service. They gave me their submission, and as my submissive, I gave them the escape they craved." The hurt I put aside ravaged its way across Melissa's face. The glass was forgotten, and I took her face in my hands. "What we have is different. I knew it was different the moment our lips touched."
Her eyes sparkled, the emotion rippling there turning playful. "Good answer."
I didn't fight the smile this time, letting it curve my lips, taking in the warmth of her, the warmth of happiness before the bitterness reclaimed me. The happy place where she was mine and nothing else mattered was a mirage in the face of what Delilah had done. It dropped the past before my eyes. I couldn't look away. I had to face it.
My throat was dry. As badly as I wanted to quench my thirst with every ounce of liquor in my cabinet, I filled my glass with water instead. I looked around at all the things in my apartment. The vast, empty wealth. All the things I bought to fill the void.
"When I was twenty-three, I was just getting started. A couple of business decisions put me on the fast track. I was laying the foundation of what Mason Acquisitions is today. When I hit twenty-four, I made my first million and I met someone. Elizabeth Kensington." I snorted, the name alone bringing back memories of the woman. Her curly, wild hair. The bohemian personality that drew me to her like a moth to the flame. Once I made a Forbes list for my wealth, it became difficult to pick out the people who gave a damn about me and those that gave a damn about my bank account. It was a skill I was adept at now, but back then, Elizabeth played me like the ukulele she used to strum every night. "She was studying sociology and seemed content to live on nothing but love and passion."
Using that word after what she did made me feel sick, and then I remembered Melissa and our colored history with that word. But she wasn't up in arms, her eyes turning from blue to green in a show of envy. She was just perched against the counter, listening intently.
"Life happened, and we grew apart. I tried to end things and she proposed to me." I took a long, steadying gulp of water. "The funny thing is, if she'd asked a few months earlier, it would have seemed like the best idea I'd ever heard.
“I declined, knowing that it signaled the end of us. And I didn't expect a clean break. I still cared for her deeply. But what I didn't expect was for her to use the final weapon left in her arsenal to hurt me: my mother."
Melissa's lips twisted in confusion. I didn't blame her. I had been just as confused when Elizabeth had uttered a name I hadn't heard in years: Regina Mason.
"It wasn't hard to find my mother. It was no coincidence that we were living in the same city." I put my glass back on the counter as hurt coursed through me like venom. "She tried kindness and remorse first. When I had no interest in either, the claws came out."
Her words were carved into my chest, a wound that never truly healed. I knew the only way to find peace was to yank the skeleton from my closet and shine light into the darkness, but I didn't say them out loud. Not to Melissa, the one person that proved my mother’s prophecy wrong.
That baby kept me silent. Delilah James had proved her right.
"Yes, I used Beth to get close to you so I could use you. You came by that emptiness honestly, boy. That same hole inside of you is inside of me. We're no good, you and me. And let me tell you something that no one will say now that you have all that money in your wallet. No one will ever want you for you ever again."
Melissa pushed away from the counter in horror, her voice just as unsteady as the steps she took. “I am so sorry, Logan.”
The look in her eyes, the pity, was almost more than I could stand.
I didn't back away from the challenge. I'd found a strength in myself the day I faced my mother that had served me well over the years. I looked down the barrel of destiny and decided that I could find success and happiness. I embraced my need to dominate and my place as a force in the business world.
But Melissa's touch, her empathy as she stood in front of me, tears glittering in her eyes, made that iron fence in me shudder. It creaked, my strength waning. The doubt that I'd ever find what I found in Melissa was back, scratching at the back of my mind.