Til Debt Do Us Part (Married At Midnight #4)

Chapter 26

Twenty-Six

Dare

F elix saunters into the little office I have set up in the loft, a smug grin plastered on his face. My fingers instantly curl into fists beneath the desk.

"How did you get in here?" I hiss.

He chuckles, leaning against the door frame. "You really need to invest in better security, nephew. Those security guards you have posted let me just breeze in."

"I doubt that very much."

I stand up, feeling the need to contain Felix's toxic ooze to one room. I usher him in, pointing to a seat and closing the door. Felix saunters over to the seat and crosses his arms, deliberately defying me.

I grit my teeth. "What do you want, Felix?"

He shrugs, still grinning. "Just checking in on my nephew. And his new wife, of course." He emphasizes the last word, his gaze flickering to the door. "How is Talia doing?"

I tense at the mention of Talia, my grip on the desk tightening. "That's none of your business."

Felix shrugs and looks around my office, as though bored with the conversation. "You know, Dare, I never thought you had it in you to marry. Let alone force a woman into being your wife. But I have to admit, it's quite a scandalous story."

I feel a muscle tic in my jaw. "My patience is wearing thin. What is it that you have gone out of your way to commit felony trespass to say?"

He spreads his hands and gives me a pacifying smile.

"Have you reconsidered my offer?" His voice drips with false charm.

I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth. "There's nothing to reconsider. You're not getting part of the company. Remy has made several conditions for me to take over the company. And I plan to abide by them."

That's a lie. Remy also demanded that I divorce Talia and give her to my brother. Which will happen approximately when there is an icy day in hell.

Felix's eyes narrow, the congenial mask slipping. "You always did have to make things difficult." He prowls closer, looming near. Trying to intimidate me with his height, though he's close to my own stature. "But you'll come around. You always do."

My heart pounds as I click my tongue, refusing to be intimidated. "Get out."

"Or what?" He laughs, a harsh bark. "You'll throw another tantrum? We both know you don't have the spine to?—"

I slam my fist onto my desk. "Enough! I will not give you an inch of Morgan Drilling. Now get out before I have you removed."

Felix's lips peel back, rage twisting his features. "You always were a smug little bastard. You'll regret this."

He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a folded sheaf of papers. Making aggressive eye contact with me, he drops them on my desk and then storms out, slamming the door behind him.

Ignoring the papers he left, I whip out my phone, texting my bodyguard that he's in the building.

Then I slip down the corridor to my bedroom, where I open the door an inch. Talia is sprawled out across the bed, blankets and hair askew, sleeping like a dead thing. Watching her for a few minutes is comforting to me, even though I've just come to watch over her while Felix is lurking around.

She is so peaceful. I almost want to join her, but I decide against it after a moment. It's better to let her nap. Returning to the office, I sag into my chair, dragging a hand over my face. My mind turns back to the situation at hand.

Namely, my uncle breaking in here to tell me that I'll regret it if I don't cut him in on the family business. Is it just grandstanding? Or is it something more?

Using two fingers, I pull the first page out of the sheaf of papers that Felix dropped on my desk. I scan the document for a moment before I crumple the paper in my fist. Felix is fucking suing me for control of the entire company.

And Felix won't give up so easily. He's been circling like a vulture for years, waiting to pick the company apart. But it's mine. I have earned it. And I'll be damned if I hand it over without a fight.

This is only the beginning. The battle for Morgan Enterprises has just started. But when the dust settles, only one of us will be left standing.

And it sure as hell won't be Felix.

My heart is still pounding when Rob peeks in, eyes wide behind his glasses. "Mr. Morgan? Are you all right?"

"Fine." I wave him off, but he slips inside and closes the door.

"Sir, I just stepped away for a couple of minutes. The bodyguard said that your uncle had been here. Did he threaten you again?" Rob's voice is tight with anger. He's been my assistant for over a decade and has seen Felix's manipulations firsthand.

I breathe deep, trying to settle my nerves. "He wanted me to hand over control of the company. I refused."

"Of course you did." Rob's lips curl in a rare smile. "Morgan Drilling would be nothing without you at the helm. Mr. Morgan can throw all the tantrums he likes, but he'll never gain control."

"You're damn right." I stand, smoothing my tie. "Now, I have a board meeting in twenty minutes. See that I'm not disturbed."

"Yes, sir." Rob nods and slips out, closing the door behind him.

Alone again, I go to the window, gazing out at the rooftops of Harwicke.

Felix wants war? He'll get one. But victory will be mine. Morgan Drilling is my legacy and I'll stop at nothing to protect it.

Even if that means destroying my own uncle.

* * *

Later in the day, a heavy knock startles me from my brooding. I glance up as Tristan strides into my office, concern etched into his features.

"So? What's the news?" His gaze darts around the room, as if expecting to find it in shambles.

I scrub a hand over my face and sigh. "Just my uncle making threats about the company, as usual."

Tristan's expression darkens. "What did he want this time?"

"Control of the company. Money. Power. The usual." I gesture to a couple of decanters filled with amber liquid. "Drink?"

"Please." Tristan collapses into one of the leather chairs across from my desk. "Felix will never change. I don't know why you continue to humor him."

I pour two fingers of scotch into a glass and hand it to him. "He's my uncle. He's still a part of the family, no matter how ill-mannered his behavior."

Tristan snorts. "You're too sentimental for your own good." He takes a long sip of his drink. "So what happened? What threats did the bastard make now?"

Rubbing the back of my neck, I sink into my chair. "The usual. That he'll destroy me and take the company. Honestly, his threats don't worry me." I meet Tristan's gaze. "But he's growing more desperate. And desperate men do dangerous things."

"You think he'd actually try to harm you?" Tristan sits forward, alarm etched into his face.

"It's not me I'm worried about. It's my wife, who as you know is in a delicate condition." I stare into the depths of my glass. "I can't take that chance. It's time to cut him off for good."

Tristan is silent for a long moment. Then he sets his glass on the desk with a sharp click. "What do you need me to do?"

Loyalty and concern for my well-being emanate from him in waves. I'm grateful, as always, for his friendship.

"Nothing, really. Keep your ear to the ground, let me know if you hear someone galloping my way," I say. "We'll be ready to act if Felix makes a move."

Tristan's jaw tightens. "You don't even have to ask."

"Thanks." I give him a tight smile.

I stare into the amber liquid in my glass. The bitter taste of betrayal is familiar, but no less unpleasant.

Felix has left me with no choice. He threatened me for the last time.

The war has begun.

Tristan studies me, his gaze searching. "There's something else bothering you. What is it?"

Damn his perceptiveness. I debate deflecting, but Tristan knows me too well. He'll persist until I tell him the truth.

With a sigh, I say, "It's Talia."

One eyebrow lifts in surprise. "What about her?"

"I thought..." I trail off, staring into the amber depths of my drink. "For a moment, I thought she was different. That I could trust her." I give a harsh laugh, devoid of humor. "But she's just like all the rest. Out for what she can get."

"I don't understand." Tristan's frown deepens. "What happened to Talia?"

The memory rises, bitter and harsh. I recount the events of yesterday, when I laid a trap for Talia to test her loyalty.

And my little wife failed my test.

When I finish telling him the story, Tristan is silent for a long moment. Finally he says, "You're an idiot."

I jerk my head up, startled. "What?"

"Only you could be foolish enough to push away the one woman who genuinely cares for you." Tristan shakes his head, exasperation etched into his face. "When are you going to stop punishing people for the sins of your family?"

"This has nothing to do with my family," I grit out.

"It has everything to do with them." Tristan pins me with a hard look. "You've been betrayed so many times, you don't recognize genuine affection when you see it. Talia cares for you, you idiot. And you are trying your damnedest to ruin the best thing that's ever happened to you. Jesus, man."

I stare into the amber depths of my drink, anger and doubt warring within me. "She lied to me. She wants my money, not me."

"She loves you," Tristan says quietly. "It's obvious enough to anyone who looks at you two. Why can't you see it?"

"Because I'm not a fucking idiot," I retort, a note of bitterness in my voice. "She wants me because I'm rich."

"Do you think that you're the only rich man in town? Or the only handsome one? You have a literal twin who is the father of her baby. Staying with you doesn't make any fucking sense, especially with you brooding about Talia's 'intentions'. But she hasn't left, even though it would be much easier for her to go."

I narrow my eyes. "But--"

Tristan leans in sharply, cutting me off.

"I've watched you around Talia, Dare. You fucking love her. And she looks at you likeyou hung the fucking moon. What's your excuse for not seeing it? What do you want her to do to prove her love?"

"Nothing," I say in a low voice. I don't know what I want. I only know I want her, and I'm a fucking idiot.

"That's right. Nothing." He throws his hand up in the air, raising his brows. "The only thing stopping you from being happy is your years of practice at being miserable."

His words strike deep, igniting a spark of hope I thought had been extinguished. Could he be right? Did I misread Talia's actions? The memory of her tear-filled eyes and anguished pleas echoes in my mind. She begged me to understand, to listen to her. But I was too blinded by rage and a lifetime of bitter lessons to listen.

"Am I really the problem?" I wonder.

"You're the only one standing in your own way. You're the only one who decides what your happiness is. You're the only one who can make you happy by stopping this bullshit. You're the only one who needs to change. And if you want to change, then you might as well change for the right goddamnreason."

I gape at Tristan, wide-eyed.

"And the right reason is Talia."

Tristan tosses back the rest of his drink and stands.

"Now, I'm going to go home and fuck my wife. You should do the same."

"Tristan..." I say his name as a plea. I want him to guide me, not leave.

"Go to her," Tristan urges. "Beg her forgiveness if you must. Tell her the truth—that you love her with all your scarred and battered heart. Before it's too late."

His advice is at war with years of instinct. I've never trusted easily or given second chances. But for Talia...perhaps I could try.

I drain my drink and rise to my feet, determination steeling my spine. "Thank you," I say simply.

Tristan's lips curve. "Don't thank me yet. Just go get your girl."

I nod and stride from the room, my path now clear. I won't give up on Talia without a fight. She's the light that led me out of darkness, the balm for my wounded soul. And if Tristan is right, if she truly loves me... then our story isn't over yet.