Poise, charm, and grace? Check. She understood business protocol and the norms for any number of social engagements.
The right background? Check. Her mother, now deceased, had been a model for a few years and her father had made a fortune in commercial real estate before selling his company and retiring to Florida. There were no embarrassing scandals in her past, and like his family, hers could trace their roots back for generations.
“Should I be flattered you chose me and were willing to spend an exorbitant amount of money to get me to marry you?”
“You could be, but I suspect that you aren’t.” He watched her closely, like the shark he was, likely trying to determine what her next move would be, but he had no idea.
She turned away so he wouldn’t see the pain in her face. Cyrus was good at reading people, and it hadn’t been easy to keep her true feelings from him for fear he would use them against her. The stress had taken its toll, and now finding out what he’d done only deepened her distrust of him.
“You’re not sorry at all for what you did, are you?” she asked.
“My only regret is trusting that snake, Roland DuBois, to keep his mouth shut. Frankly Dani, you should be thanking me for getting him out of your life. You needed someone stronger.”
She swung back around. “Someone like you, maybe? A control freak who bullies people into doing what he wants them to?” Cyrus didn’t concern himself with other people’s wants or needs. All that mattered was what he wanted.
“He didn’t deserve you,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “What did you ever see in him, anyway—a wannabe entrepreneur in off-the-rack suits.”
“For goodness’s sake, Cyrus, not everyone can afford Brioni.” Every suit and tuxedo he owned was handmade by the designer.
“True.” He looked so smug.
“You’re such an ass.”
He smiled, an unapologetic Master-of-the-Universe smile. The same one that had captured her attention from the beginning and still managed to make her abdomen contract in unwavering attraction. “Yeah, but you like it.”
A thread of acknowledgement went through her at the truth of his words. She did like the strength he exuded and the power he wielded. Perhaps too much. They were sexy traits for sure, and being with a man like him was exciting, until you saw the ugly side of his power. He manipulated people and situations. His actions made old wounds resurface—wounds she’d tried to heal for years but hadn’t been able to.
“I’m a better man than Roland DuBois—” he said the name with a curl of his lips “—could ever dream of being. I’m a man of my word, and I’ll continue to make sure you have everything you could ever want or need.”
Everything, every material possession imaginable was hers if she asked. She fingered her diamond choker. It suddenly felt like a noose, one she’d willingly slipped around her own neck. How could she continue to live with him, knowing he’d blackmailed Roland out of her life? One of his many transgressions, too many to name.
“This changes everything.”
He watched her without flinching. Emotionless. Unfeeling. “For now.”
“For good.”
He rose slowly from the chair. “You’re upset,” he said. “Once you calm down you’ll rethink what you’ve said.”
She hated the way he always made her sound so unreasonable, as if he was the only one who exemplified logic and common sense. “No, I won’t. I’m thinking clearly right now, and I won’t forget what you did. It’s over. I can’t trust you, and I never will.” She pivoted away from him.
“Divorce is not an option,” he said, halting her in her tracks. He hadn’t raised his voice a single decibel. How could he sound so calm in the middle of a monumental argument? She wanted to scream.