“Save your wishes for the dead, Reiss. I sure as fuck don’t need them,” I shot back as I walked away, vowing never to seek him out again.
Before walking out of his office, I heard the loud, thunderous roar of his laughter, bringing melancholy to my once revived heart. It had barely survived from the moment he’d decided to crush all the hope that had sprung from his lovemaking. There was nothing left now except the future.
Without Reiss or Ashton, maybe it was the beginning of the end.
Chapter 18
A month later
Reiss
“Mr. Chambers, there’s an Ashton Westwood to see you, sir.” Emily’s voice made me look up to the partially opened door. She gave me a look that told me she was waiting for my response.
My seat had been barely warm from my bottom before my former nemesis decided to pay me an impromptu visit. What did he mean to accomplish with this? Was he attempting to bring me hell because I had shagged his wife senseless? Oh, bloody well. It was a mistake I didn’t intend to repeat if that was what was bothering him.
Straightening my tie, I nodded towards Emily, indicating I was ready to receive the man who had contributed in making Reiss Chambers vanish into thin air. I was actually surprised it had taken Ava this long to find out. I had been almost sure they’d eventually fess up once Westwood secured his position as her husband and the future heir of his parents’ and Ava’s fortunes, merging both companies to solidify their financial status for generations to come.
Cautiously sipping my coffee, I felt great in the knowledge that these “generations” weren’t going to be fruitful, because they hadn’t anticipated the idea of Ava being barren. It truly was a pity not to share that kind of ephemeral beauty that was only skin deep and meant to be appreciated from afar to your future children. Then again, maybe it was fortunate that the world wouldn’t have to endure more spoiled rotten brats. The world would be a better place without their progeny. I was convinced Ava and Ashton would bring up their children into miniature versions of them; therefore, yes, the world was truly fortunate without their brood on the horizon.
The moment I heard the sound of the door, I zeroed in on the incomer, waiting with bated breath as to what he intended to accomplish by coming here today.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure of having you here, Westwood?” Though it was difficult, in business settings civility was called upon even if both parties loathed each other. And, since I wasn’t sure what he meant by this jaunt, I wasn’t ready to bare my fangs just yet.
“This isn’t a social or business call, so let’s drop the pretense, or you’ll stifle yourself,” Ashton Westwood shot out as he strode towards me with purpose, gripping a folder in one arm. “This is about Ava. I know you had your play with revenge, and as much as I hate to admit it, frankly, I’m quite relieved that her memories of you aren’t all that loving or saintly any longer.”
Relieved? That wasn’t something I’d thought of in a million years. Ashton Westwood was relieved I had shagged his wife? Stunner. So where was he going with this?
“Get to the point. I don’t have much time on my hands, especially not for you.”
He stood, measuring me as we gave each other harsh stares, our expressions filled with contempt as we battled our differences through our gazes. “First things first. Before I start, I need for you to make it clear that you don’t want anything to do with Ava. Is that correct?”
Why was he grilling me about this? Had Ava tell him everything, as well? What the bloody fuck?
“It’s none of your business. It’s your wife’s and mine, and I hope to keep it that way.”
“Well, from what I gathered, you practically threw her out of this very same office, telling her you didn’t want anything to do with her,” he said with a raised brow, voice still monotonous as he gave me little clue as to what he was getting at. “Again, is this assumption correct?”
“Get to the bottom of it, will you? I don’t have the jolly time to answer to you, Westwood. And, quite frankly, I don’t give a horse’s arse what you think or don’t,” I gritted out, losing my temper. “If you’re here to ask for an apology for shagging your precious wife, then you’ll be waiting for a lifetime. I won’t give you that privilege. If you’re here to spit in my face because your wife made a whiny complaint that I didn’t treat her well, you’ll be waiting a lifetime for that, as well. So, if you have nothing else to say, I’d be grateful if you could save us both some time with this indignant, chivalrous, husbandly thing you think you’re doing at your wife’s bidding.”
“I came here of my own free will. Ava doesn’t know I’m here, and I would like to keep it that way.” He gave me a pointed look before continuing. “And, since you’re bent on sending me away, I’ll very well head straight to the problem.”
He immediately opened the folder before sliding a paper with a legal seal on the bottom of it. “My lawyers drew up this contract the other day. It basically states that you’re giving up the rights to the child Ava’s carrying, and under no circumstances will you try to contact Ava or the child in question, even when he or she comes of age. The child will be born and brought up a Westwood with no correlation to you, whatsoever.” He then audaciously pointed at the signature line at the bottom of the page. “I only need your signature here to have it over and done with. My lawyers will send you a copy at your request, of course.”
My ears pounded as I stared at him, dumfounded and in complete shock to the point that I felt almost paralyzed from it.
Child. He’d said Ava was carrying a child. And he had already concluded the baby was mine. What if Ava had slept with more men than she was ready to admit? How sure could he be that it wasn’t his in the first place? From what I had gathered, he seemed like a man who truly loved her through thick and thin; subsequently, I was almost sure he had already had her in more ways than possible. After all, it had been over a month since that fatal encounter.
“Here’s a pen for you to sign, Chambers.” He handed me his pen while I unblinkingly frowned at it, feeling as if I was freefalling.
“Ava’s pregnant?” I finally said out loud, still fazed and in complete disarray. “How sure are you that it’s mine?”
“She’s one hundred percent sure that it’s your DNA she’s carrying.”