Billion Dollar Revenge (The Lincoln Brothers #2)

27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Chelsea

My heart lodges in my throat as tears well up in my eyes. I hold my phone with a trembling hand, staring at my screen. There it is?a photo of me splashed across the Industry News section of Evan’s newspaper, The New York Press.

Not just any photo, but an old racy lingerie picture I once sent to Bobby when we were first dating.

I want to curl up in a ball. How did it end up here?

I haven’t heard from him since he called me two days ago. I’ve put that awkward exchange behind me. But now this disgusting, vindictive revenge act makes me think he hasn’t moved on and that he’s trying to remind me he still holds all the power.

I’ll never be rid of him.

The tears brim in my eyes uncontrollably as pain crushes my chest.

My family, friends, clients?everyone will know about this. And Evan…Surely, he didn’t approve this?

I brought this disaster upon him. I should never have agreed to get revenge on Bobby. Now, this humiliating image is out there for the whole world to see. My phone starts buzzing; it begins with Nova, then Summer, all flooding me with calls and then texts saying, “Call me.”

Evie walks into the studio after I begged her to come in early due to an emergency.

Her face drops as she sees me, arms opening wide as she steps closer.

There’s no point denying a hug, I really need one from a friend. I wrap my arms around her, sobbing into her neck. One of her arms encircling my shoulder, the other rubs my back, as she whispers tenderly, “It’s okay. It’ll be old news tomorrow.”

I sniff, feeling the tears still slip past my lashes as I pull away from her. Grateful she was able to meet the cable guy for the finishing touches on the locker room because I didn’t have it in me. I don’t want to face anybody today.

I want to hide.

A part of me wishes I could jump on the next flight to Connecticut.

But I have my grand opening for the studio to prepare for. I can’t let myself down. I can’t be a coward. I’ve come too far with this studio.

I’m sure after a week, I’ll be old news, right?

A half-naked woman on the front of Evan’s gossip section. I haven’t even read the article. The headline, “The New Mrs. Lincoln Media” is bad enough.

I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself. After I detangle myself from Evie, I slump in my office chair and open the article on my phone to read it properly.

The New Mrs. Lincoln Media

Image: Chelsea’s lingerie picture .

Concerns rise over Evan Lincoln’s leadership and professional conduct amid his relationship with Chelsea Macfarlane.

There’s been growing concerns about Mr. Evan Lincoln, the CEO of Lincoln Media.

His new relationship with Chelsea Macfarlane, a Pilates Instructor, has raised questions about his professional judgment.

Employees report experiencing a significant change in his behavior, which many attribute it to his new relationship.

One long-time employee shared, “It’s like he’s become a different person.”

These issues have been raised with Mr. Lincoln, but according to insiders, he’s shown no interest in addressing these concerns. “We’ve tried to bring it up, but it feels like we’re being ignored.”

What’s more troubling to some is Miss MacFarlane’s apparent financial interest in Mr. Lincoln’s company. She recently acquired a new Pilates studio conveniently located in the same building as Mr. Lincoln’s private office, leading to speculation about her true intentions. “It’s too convenient to be a coincidence,” remarked one employee.

There are growing fears that Miss Macfarlane may be more interested in Mr. Lincoln’s wealth and business than in the relationship itself. This suspicion is reportedly causing tension within the company, leading to low morale and a potential loss of key employees.

“It’s hard to stay motivated when you feel undervalued and disrespected,” said one employee.

The issues surrounding Evan Lincoln’s leadership and his relationship with Chelsea Macfarlane highlight an immediate need for intervention to protect the company’s future.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I read. Finishing the article, I drop my phone and cry into my hands. Sobs wrack my body.

My phone buzzes again. I blink back the tears, but my vision remains blurry as I pick up my phone. Evan.

Another sob slips at seeing his name. I can’t talk right now. I’d sound like a strangled cat, or worse, I’d be a blubbering mess. I need a moment to collect myself, so I let it go to voicemail. But he calls again. And again. Each time, making me cry harder. After all the failed call attempts, he texts.

Evan: Call me.

I force myself to get up, needing to leave. Grabbing my bag, I exit my office and pass Evie. “Will you be okay to drive?” she asks, wearing a worried expression as she walks toward me.

I must look like a mess. So I wipe my tears and clear my throat. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

She offers me a sympathetic smile. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

I give her a half one back. “Thanks for helping me out.”

“Anytime, boss.”

My heart swells a little from the nickname boss, but I’m unable to completely enjoy it because of the disgusting image of me splashed in the media. I leave the studio and head home.

As much as I want to drive straight to the airport and run away, I don’t.

When I arrive home, I find myself alone. Summer left me a note to tell me she’s out. So I throw my bag on the table and rush to my room. Collapsing into my blankets, I cry out the remainder of my tears.

“Chelsea?” Summer’s voice sounds distant, as if she’s underwater.

I sit up, rubbing my face as she enters the room.

“What time is it?” I ask, blinking at her.

Her gaze roams my face. “Six. Were you sleeping?”

It’s still bright outside from daylight. I’m surprised I was able to fall asleep with the blinds open. I must have passed out from crying so much.

“I must have,” I say, looking down at my hands tangled in my lap.

“I saw the article and tried to call you. Are you okay?” She moves to sit beside me on my bed.

“Not good,” I reply on a shaky breath.

“Do you have any idea who did it?”

I turn to look at her, swallowing my shame. “It was Bobby. I sent him that picture.”

“I always hated him.”

I try to laugh, but it turns into a snort. “I know. I should’ve listened.”

She leans her hand on my white blanket. “What did Evan say?”

I run my teeth over my bottom lip and stare at my white dresser across the room. I’m too embarrassed to meet her gaze. “I haven’t spoken to him.”

“Do you think he had anything to do with it?”

I shake my head as the answer falls easily from my mouth. “No.”

She raises an eyebrow at me. “Then you should call him.”

I sigh and let her know what I’ve been thinking. “We want different things.”

“What do you mean?” she asks softly.

“He’s so organized, and I’m kind of all over the place.” I point to myself and peer up at her from under my wet lashes. My face feels puffy and sore. I’m sure I look as miserable as I feel.

Her eyebrows draw together. “He’s not perfect, and I’m sure he doesn’t expect you to be either.”

“I brought this mess to his company.”

“Bobby did, not you!” she argues.

But that’s not the only reason I’m crying. I know that Evan and I won’t be able to have a long-term relationship.

“That’s not all. He doesn’t want the same future as me,” I admit. “Summer, I don’t want another relationship where I give up my dreams for a guy.”

Her face falls as she understands. “Well, that fucking sucks.”

I nod, my gaze dropping to my hands as I pick at the skin around my nails. “Yeah, it does.”

She shuffles on the bed, grabbing my hands to stop me picking. “You shouldn’t have to give up anything.”

I look up at her. “So what do I do?”

“It sounds like you need some space to think.”

It’s exactly what I want, and I keep coming back to the same conclusion. “I was thinking of going home for a few days after the studio opens.”

She nods. “No, you should go now.”

“But the studio?”

She shakes her head and squeezes my hand. “Can wait a few days.”

I nod, knowing she’s right. There’s only a cleaner due to come before the grand opening, so a few days won’t kill me.

“You need to talk to Evan before you go, though,” she adds.

Even though all I want to do is avoid him, I can’t ignore him forever.

She rubs my shoulder before squeezing it and standing.

I watch her walk out, softly closing my door behind her.

When she leaves my room, I pick up my phone and notice a few missed calls from Evan. I call him back. He answers on the first ring.

“Chelsea.”

My heart pounds in my ears every time I hear his voice.

“Hi.”

“I’ve been worried about you.” His voice is so sincere it makes me squeeze the phone tighter.

“I’m sorry I haven’t?” I stop talking because I don’t want to admit I’ve been crying hysterically over my idiot ex.

“I’m sorry that was printed. Please know I had nothing to do with it.”

I shuffle on the bed until my back is against the headboard. “I know.” I release a heavy sigh. “It was Bobby.”

“I fired him and I’m trying to find out how he did it,” he says angrily and continues talking. “But he isn’t answering my calls.” A grumble leaves Evan. “I’ll find him.”

“Thanks.”

It’s so silent between us, you can hear a pin drop, but then he speaks.

“Did you want to come over tonight?” His voice is so raw and tender it causes a lump to form in my throat.

I swallow hard, hating what I have to say next. “No. I’m going home.”

“Connecticut?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Why?”

“I want to get away from this mess, and this will be the only time off I get before the studio opens.”

“Did you want me to come?”

My chest hurts. Really aches, because even though I’ve come to realize I love him, I need this time away to process everything. I deserve to have the future I want, and he should have the one he needs, and the only way to do that is give ourselves time apart.

“To be honest, I need to think about us too.”

“Right.”

Hating how he doesn’t ask me why, I feel the need to explain. Because I don’t want to end it like this, for him not to know the reason. He didn’t know why his ex cheated, and it messed him up for years. I don’t want to cause him more pain. He doesn’t deserve that.

“You don’t want to get engaged again, and I’ve always dreamed of a big wedding and a happy marriage.” New tears fill my eyes as I continue to say what’s in my heart. “I gave up everything for Bobby. I-I don’t think I can do it again.” I stumble over the last few words.

More crushing silence envelops me. I pull the phone away from my ear to check he’s still on the line.

When I bring the phone back, his voice finally breaks the silence, softer now. “I get that. Thank you for telling me the truth.”

“It’s not that I don’t care about you,” I say, though it’s strained. Tears spill down my cheeks, my heart shattering with each new salty tear.

“I care about you too,” he says, filled with a mix of understanding and sorrow.

My throat aches and constricts until words get caught. Is this the end of us?

“Are you busy?” I hear in the background. My heart cracks a little more, knowing our conversation has been cut off already.

“I’ll let you go.” I hesitate but close my mouth, stopping the words, I’ll speak to you soon, because will I? I doubt it. He knows we both want different things in our futures.

“Okay. Bye, Chelsea.”

“Bye,” I whisper and hang up.

My head falls, and so do fresh sobs.