“Tell him what you told me,” I say.
“Oh, yeah—well, it looks like you committed some pretty serious legal malpractice,” MK explains, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Add to that the fact that it was perpetrated against your intimate partner, and there’s a history of abusive behavior, they’ll likely disbar you. There may even be some jail time if she decides to press charges for the assault…which happened here on company property, right?” He looks to me.
“Yeah, it did,” I reply.
Behind the desk, the Katies both gasp. Troy’s other colleagues are all looking at him with wide eyes.
“That’s a fucking lie,” Troy declares. “Tess will say anything to undermine me.”
“She’s telling the truth, and so am I,” I counter.
“Is that why you came here? You came to my place of business to try and humiliate me with these lies? Did you bring all these hockey goons to rough me up? Please, make my fucking day. I’d love to see every one of you carted out of here in cuffs for trespassing and assault.”
“No one here will harm you. They all just wanted to meet you,” I explain. “See, they were all super-curious to put a face to a name, especially when they learned how you like to abuse your partners.”
“Fucking lies—”
“They know your face now, asshole. They’ve got it fucking memorized. Guys, you got him clocked?” I say over my shoulder.
“We got him,” says Jake.
“Oh, yeah, I’ll never forget that ugly fucking face,” Novy says.
Troy scowls at me. “Just tell me why you’re here, Langley.”
“I’m here to tell you that you picked the wrong fucking one,” I reply. “You thought I was easy prey, but you’ve bitten off way more than you can chew with me. I am not alone in this world. I roll thirty people deep at all fucking times,” I say, gesturing over my shoulder to the lobby full of Rays. “I am stronger than you, smarter than you, and people just plain like me better. I am so far out of your fucking league.”
Troy just scoffs. “I will take such delight in ruining you.”
“You can try,” I counter. “Knowing your stupid ass, you will. Come at me all you want. I’m ready for you. My friends, my family, my team, they’re ready too. I only came to give you this message: Tess is with me now, and you will never see or speak to her again.”
“You want that rotten whore, you can have her,” Troy shouts. “She’s fucking dead to me!”
Behind him, a few people gasp. They glance between each other with horrified looks on their faces. I can only imagine what they think of Tess compared to what they think of the boss’s spoiled rotten son.
“I hope you really mean that,” I say. “Because if I get even a whiff of your stench within a two-mile radius of her ever again, I will rain fire down on you. And I’m not just talking about the harassment, stalking, and blackmail charges I’ll file for myself. You and I both know Tess has everything she needs to get you convicted by any judge or jury. We will fucking end you, Troy. You will be the one who rots…in a cell.”
“What do you want?” Troy says again, his gaze darting around the room. “I assume you came here to make a deal. You’re threatening me with all these lies because you want something.”
“I do want something,” I reply, slipping my hand into my other back pocket. “I have something here for you to sign.” Stepping over to the reception desk, I set the papers down. “Katie, can Mr. Owens borrow a pen?”
She mechanically hands me one, her blue eyes wide.
“Thank you.” I turn to Troy. “Sign this, and we leave. Sign, and Tess and I extend you mercy.”
Troy crosses over to the desk, snatching up the papers. His gaze darts across the page for all of two seconds before he tips his head back, letting out a wolfish sound that chills me to my bone. “Oh hell, are you kidding me with this? All of that to get me to sign some divorce papers? You could have saved your fucking time.”
My heart stops as I glare at him. “Why?”
He shoves the papers back at me, the pen rattling down off the reception desk. “Because I already signed them.”
I blink twice, glancing from him to the unsigned papers. “Wait…what?”
66
“Come on, you piece of junk.” I tap through the new printer set-up menu for the third time. The stupid thing is supposed to connect to Wi-Fi, but I’ll be damned if I can figure out how. I stretch out my arm, reaching for the manual on the edge of my desk while I hold down the reset button. I’m in a full yoga bend, the machine giving me a warning beep as I wiggle the manual closer with my fingers.
I don’t want to be dealing with a malfunctioning printer right now, but I can’t sit still. At this very moment, Ryan and half the Rays are up in Cincinnati confronting Troy on my behalf. I meant what I said: I will never see or speak to him again. Narcissists only understand boundaries when they’re firm. I drew this line in the sand, and I’ll be damned if I cross it again.
Troy Owens is nothing but a memory for me now. Someone I used to know.
The printer makes a high-pitched whirring sound and I slap the top with a curse.
A memory he may be, but the fact remains I need those damn divorce papers signed. I’m giving Troy this one last chance to sign them uncontested. Otherwise, I’m going full-scorched earth. By going after Ryan, Troy woke the dragon. I won’t rest until I’m free, and if he is going to threaten the people I love, I will burn him to ash.
Boundaries, I have them now. Fuck around, and you will find out.
In this case, Ryan and his teammates are bringing two boxes full of “find out” straight to Troy’s office door. I’ve been sitting by my phone, waiting impatiently for an update all morning. Not even this printer can prove a good enough distraction.
The beeping continues, and I curse under my breath, holding the stupid reset button down again. For fuck’s sake, I have a B.A., an MBA, and a J.D. Surely, I can manage to set up one stupid, freaking—
“Good morning, Tess.”
I gasp, nearly toppling out of my warrior pose in my rush to spin around. My heart stops as I see Bea Owens standing in the doorway of my office. She looks as perfect as ever, tall and lithe, with a ballerina’s body, all collarbones and angled hips. She’s draped in a navy sheath dress, pearls at her ears and neck, with an Hermès Kelly on her arm.
“What are you doing here?” I say, heart racing, crossing my arms.
She’s peering around the room, taking in all the improvements I made to the space—two new desks, framed pictures on the wall, stick-on wallpaper to cover the old water stains. It’s a far cry from her cherry wood executive office suite, but it’s mine.
“So…this must be your new office.”
“I’m not coming back,” I say, fighting my nerves.
Dealing with Troy’s drama is one thing. After thirteen years, I’m a master at shoveling his bullshit. But Bea is an entirely different animal. She’s been my weakness for so long, a mentor and mother figure in one. I’ve had her up on a pedestal. Saint Beatrice, patron saint of lost daughters.
Even when she sided with Troy, even when she watched him lie to me and cheat, when she helped him manipulate me…god, even then I worshipped her. But all false idols must eventually fall. I used to look at her and see Jackie Kennedy. Now all I see is Troy’s mother.
Her inspection of the office complete, she holds my gaze. “I’ve missed you these last weeks.”
“I’m not coming back,” I say again. “If you came here to ask me that, you can just go. Cincinnati is done for me, Bea.”
“I know,” she replies.
I suck in a breath, my eyes narrowing on her as the truth hits me. “I’d say you can have my official two-week notice, but we both know you’ve let Troy move forward with firing me. Anything to appease him in his time of grief, right?”