Open when you feel like you might forgive me.

I still hadn’t opened it.

Not even after we had sex, because I knew that wasn’t about forgiveness. That was about satisfying my need for him. And now? Now I still couldn’t forgive him, but finally my curiosity had won out over my self-control.

I pulled the last letter out of my shoebox, the paper yellow and brittle, and read it.

You were always mine.

—Black

I WALTZED THROUGH THE DOUBLE glass doors of FHH, ignoring the stunned faces of the New York employees who thought they didn’t have to deal with my sour-ass anymore. My face was relaxed, my posture poised. I was the same old Vicious, regardless of what I was dealing with in my personal life. The office was buzzing with post-holiday phone calls, overlapping chatter, the noise of working printers and people slurping their lukewarm coffees from their stupid “Best Dad/Mom/Grandmother” mugs.

I strode with purpose to Dean’s office. I couldn’t work inside there right now for the obvious reason—it was occupied by Dean—but I didn’t plan to leave NY, because there was nowhere else I would rather be.

After I saw her at the exhibit, as I sat in the searing hot bathtub and tried to get the feeling back in my numb, icy feet, I’d made up my mind. I wasn’t leaving until Emilia LeBlanc came with me. Even if that meant she was a package deal with her big-mouthed little sister, Rosie.

Emilia, my makeup is revenge.

Yours is forgiveness.

You’re better than me.

I don’t deserve you.

But I’m going to take you, anyway.

But Jaime was right. I was acting like a fucking tool when it came to her, so the least I owed myself was not to let her slip through my fingers because of that this time.

Opening the door to Dean’s office without knocking, I breezed straight in and planted my ass on the chair directly in front of his desk.

He sat there, talking on his phone and deliberately not paying any attention to me. He scribbled something on a FHH notepad as he spoke. “Of course. I’ll let Sue know, and we’ll send someone over as soon as possible. It shouldn’t take long to draft something like this.”

Sliding the notepad across his glass desk, he pointed his finger at what he wrote, offering me a smirk.

You look like shit

I snatched the pen from his hand, grabbed the notepad and scribbled something, lifting it for him to see, right next to my dead expression.

Sue looks like a bad fuck

He chuckled, still engrossed in his phone conversation. “Well, actually, I do have a contact person in Los Angeles. He’s one of FHH’s CEOs. His name is Baron Spencer. Sue will leave his contact details along with our proposition. Sound good?”

I gave him the notepad and pen, and he scribbled, tearing the paper from the pad and slapping it against my chest. I plucked it from my suit and read.

Your stepmom is a bad fuck. We’re not switching branches

It was my turn to write.

Fine. I’ll join you here. Care if I sit on your lap?

He looked up at me, and I winked.

We were back to being rowdy teenagers. Before Emilia came to town and shit all over our relationship.

“Excuse me, Stephen? Sorry to cut you off. I have an important call on the other line, something personal. Can I get back to you in ten minutes? Thank you. Okay. Thanks. You too. Take care.”

He slammed his phone down on the desk. I noticed there were a few people peeking curiously from the reception area in the direction of his office, and itched to close the automatic blinds, but knew better than to step deeper into his territory. He would’ve pissed right there in the middle of his office if it were appropriate.

“Emilia resigned,” he hissed out, opening a drawer and throwing her letter of resignation my way.

I didn’t make a move to pick it up.

“I know,” I said with a shrug. “She can do whatever the fuck she wants. I’m not going anywhere without her, and I need more time here.”

“Tell me…” Dean leaned in, lacing his fingers together. “How would you have reacted if I did the same to you? Told you I drove your high school sweetheart from our town just because I couldn’t see her with you, then went ten years later and fucked her in your office, your bed, your fucking everything? Right in your face. How would you feel about that, Vicious? Because I’m starting to believe that you’re a sociopath for not understanding the depth of the betrayal. True, the two of us were never as tight as you are with Jaime and I am with Trent, but we were still, in the grand scheme of things, brothers.”

It was my turn to lean forward. “I’m a bastard, Dean, but you knew. That night, at my party, before she came looking for you so you could go on your first date? You knew how I felt about it. But you went and did it anyway. I was angry with you for years, but I get it now. She was worth it. Emilia is a compulsion. You just want her, consequences be damned.

“Although when you dig deep and think about it, you have to admit, I was there first. Her heart beat for me, and you saw it. You saw it in class. You saw it in the hallways. The way she looked at me in the cafeteria. You saw it in the way she came to our football games, but only when I played, even though you played every single week while I sat on the bench most of the season. She never showed her face on those blue bleachers until after I made first-string. We all knew. Jaime knew. Trent knew. You and I knew. I think the only person who didn’t realize it was Emilia herself. You’ve moved on. You would never settle for her today, and you know it. You like the variety too much.”

He considered my words, tilting his chin down in acceptance. “We can’t both be at the same branch. The LA office is too important to be neglected, and having the two of us in the hallways here is going to result in a power struggle we don’t want. But Vic, I’m so fucking mad at you, I can’t even look at you right now. Not only for what you did when we were eighteen, but also for what you did in my bed. In my house. With her.”

My jaw clenched, but I didn’t dare look away. I stared at him so hard I thought we were both going to pounce on each other again. My left eye was still purple, and his nose was still bruised from our hotel incident.

Dean was the first to open his mouth. “Make it worth my while to sit around in Los Angeles while you chase Millie’s ass and beg her to forgive the assholeness that is you.”

“Name your price.” I knew there were sacrifices to be made, and I was willing to make them. It was justifiable. I got it. I’d fucked up and I needed to atone for my sins.

“Sell me ten percent of your shares.” Dean shrugged. “And I’ll pack a bag and wait it out in LA for six months.”

“That’s seven million dollars’ worth,” I ground out.

Each of us held 25% of the shares. We had equal power. Buying out my shares was buying me out of my power, my influence, my everything. I wanted to laugh in his face, but he looked too serious to fuck with. By the way his hand clenched his phone as he tapped it against his lips, I knew he meant business.

“Fuck that shit. I mean really, Dean?” I huffed. “It’s not like I fucked your sister.”

“I actually suspect you did fuck Keeley at some point, but I’m not going to ask you about it for your sake. You asked me to name a price, Vicious, and I did. Take it or leave it.”

“Five percent,” I shot back. I was so used to negotiating that I thought maybe I could sell him something I could buy back for double or triple the price.

“Ten percent for six months, and if you try to negotiate one more time, I’m taking this offer off the table, and we both know what’s gonna happen.”

Yes. Trent and Jaime would fly out to New York to babysit us again. Then, Jaime was going to drag my ass back to Los Angeles like I was a kicking and screaming toddler and I’d lose her. Forever.

She was mine. I didn’t come this far just to turn around and walk out of this again.

“Fine,” I said, finally. “Ten percent. I’ll draft the contract tomorrow.”

“No need. I’ll ask my lawyer to do it,” Dean said. “I don’t trust your ass with anything anymore. Oh, I want you to keep Sue. You’re right. She is a mediocre fuck and she wants me to meet her parents, even though I told her I never want to date. Ever. In. My. Life.”

“Fine.” My nostrils flared and I closed my eyes. This was a fucking nightmare.

But Dean continued, undeterred. “I also don’t want you in my apartment. You won’t be fucking my ex-girlfriend in my bed anymore. You can take the apartment you gave Millie. It’s vacant now, anyway.”

I didn’t say a word, processing it all. My expression must’ve been crestfallen, because Dean’s smile only grew wider by the second.

“Shit, man, you’re going to do this, huh? For real.” He threw a foam ball at me.

I didn’t blink or reply. Goddammit, I was making a deal with this joker.

Dean got up from his chair and leaned into my face. “How far are you willing to go for this girl, Vic?”

I ran a hand through my hair, tugging hard at the roots. “Well, I think I’m about to find the fuck out.”

The next couple of days were busy. I signed the contract Dean’s lawyer had drafted (not his dad—a sorry bastard fresh out of law school who drafted a contract littered with enough loopholes and ways out for me to play with when the time came), and I moved my shit into Emilia’s apartment downstairs. Dean was scheduled to head to Los Angeles at the end of the week. We told his staff that I was staying in order to recruit two more lawyers to our New York branch and that I needed to train them. It was only a half-lie. This had been in the works for months now, but I was never set to train them in New York.