Xanthe had been in meetings all morning in the company. When the clock struck around noon, she finally had a moment to catch her breath.
Just as she stepped out of the conference room, a message from Trevor popped up on her phone.
[I’m waiting for you here at the Italian restaurant downstairs.]
Lately, Trevor had made it a habit to return every day at noon just to have lunch with her.
It wasn’t the first time staff at the W Industries had seen him show up like this. She’d caught glimpses of admiration–and jealousy–on the female employees‘ faces.
How lucky must she be to be cared for by a man like him? Thoughtful, dependable, showing up like clockwork.
Downstairs, Trevor met her at the door and slipped his arm through hers as they walked toward the restaurant, the two of them chuckling as they chatted.
“I already ordered lunch,” he said with a wink. “All your favorites.”
Xanthe gave him a half–exasperated, half–amused look. “You really don’t need to do this every day. Your company’s not exactly around the corner. Running back and forth like this has to be exhausting.”
“If I didn’t come, would you even remember to eat on time?” His voice was gentle, but there was no room for debate. “I saw your medical report. You’ve got chronic gastritis. You need to eat regularly–no exceptions.”
That stopped her for a moment.
She’d had stomach issues for years, especially during those three years she worked at BMC Global. The company had just been getting off the ground, and she was always too busy to eat on time. Over time, it developed into a chronic problem.
But in all those years, Barrington had never once noticed.
To be precise, he’d never truly paid attention to her, did he?
“Okay,” she surrendered with a smile. “I’ll listen to you.”
But just as they stepped into the restaurant, they ran straight into Barrington.
Neither of them had expected it–and judging by the look on his face, neither had he.
He’d been in Chicago for several days now, searching for any trace of her–but it was like she’d vanished into thin air.
And now here she was, standing beside another man.
“Xanthe!” Barrington’s eyes were locked on her as he reached out to pull her toward him. “I finally found you! Come home with me!”
Trevor reacted first, his arm tightening around her waist, shielding her instantly.
“Mr. Connolly,” he said, his tone edged with a warning, “can’t you tell? She doesn’t want to go with you.”
Sat, 12
65%
Barrington stiffened. He didn’t spend much time in the city, but he knew exactly who Trevor
was.
“Mr. Michelson,” Barrington said with forced calm, “She is my wife. Don’t you think it’s a little inappropriate for you to be holding someone else’s wife?”
He turned back to her. “Xanthe, honey, there’s been a misunderstanding. What happened
between me and Vionnet-”
He tried to explain and close the distance between them with words.
But she cut him off without hesitation. “What happened between you and Vionnet? I don’t care about that. You’re not in Springfield. I suggest you choose your words carefully here.”
“And for the record-” She paused deliberately. “I’m no longer your wife. You signed the divorce papers yourself, didn’t you? I left the documents in your safe–unless you’ve gone divorce papers yourself, didn’t you? blind, I assume you saw them.”
“So going forward,” she continued, “don’t grab me. Don’t touch me. Trevvy is the jealous type.”
Hearing that, Trevor stiffened slightly. It had been a long time–since they were children, really–since Xanthe had called him that way.
While his ears flushed pinkish red in shyness, Barrington’s face drained of color.
His body trembled slightly, but he forced himself to stay composed.
He fixed his eyes on her, his voice deep and authoritative. “You can’t just erase all the years we spent together like they meant nothing, Xanthe.”
Then he turned to Trevor. “Mr. Michelson, I know your family has power and influence here in Chicago, but I also heard you’re engaged. Isn’t it a little shameless to be flaunting your affair in public like this? Aren’t you worried that your fiancée might find out?”
Then, as if he still had the right, he turned his accusation back on her.
“Xanthe, I can explain everything about Vionnet. I’ve only ever loved you. Whatever you’ve done or whoever you’ve been these past few months–it doesn’t matter. As long as you come back to me now, I’ll protect you–even if it means going up against the Michelsons‘ heir.”
Once upon a time, those words might have moved her.
But now, they only made her sick.
‘Love that comes too late,’ she reminded herself, ‘is worth less than dirt.‘
“Wow.” She almost laughed. “You really do think too highly of yourself, huh? I must’ve treated you too well all these years for you to completely forget your place.”
“Let me make one thing clear. I-” She pointed at herself. “I was the one who initiated whatever relationship we had. I said when it started–and now, I’m saying it’s been over. You don’t get a say.”
“You?” She pointed her finger at him. “You were obsessed with Vionnet, weren’t you? I set you free. You could officially have her again. But look at you coming here with regrets.”
26 Sat
Chapter 14
