Page 73 of Shattered Throne
"No." The word came out strangled. "No, no, no..."
I was backing up. My hip hit the edge of my desk. Papers scattered. I barely noticed.
Xavier turned, concern crossing his features. "Kim? What's wrong?"
I couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't do anything except stare at the ghost standing in the middle of the office.
Then I turned and ran.
Away from the ghost of every promise he'd ever broken.
Away from Cole Matthews.
12XAVIER
Kim was gone.
One second she'd been standing by her desk, and the next she was a blur of gray fabric disappearing into the stairwell, the heavy door slamming behind her with a sound that echoed through the suddenly silent floor.
I stared after her, my mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened. She'd looked at Cole Matthews and run. Not walked. Not excused herself politely. Run. Like she'd seen a ghost. Like she'd seen something worse than a ghost.
What the hell?
I dragged my gaze back to the investors. The older man—Harrison Webb, the senior partner—was frowning in the direction Kim had fled, clearly confused. His associate, a younger guy with an eager face and an overpriced briefcase, looked equally bewildered.
But Cole.
Cole wasn't confused at all.
He was staring at the stairwell door with an expression that made something cold settle in my stomach. His jaw was slack, his eyes distant, fixed on the space where Kim had been standing moments ago. There was a rawness there, a hunger almost. Thelook of a man watching something precious slip through his fingers.
I knew that look. I'd seen it in the mirror more times than I cared to admit.
"Mr. Dubois?" Harrison Webb's voice cut through the tension. "Is everything alright with your secretary?"
"Yes, she's fine. Probably just remembered an urgent phone call." The lie came easily, the way lies always did. "Shall we proceed to the conference room?"
I gestured down the hallway, playing the gracious host, but my attention stayed locked on Cole. He was still watching the stairwell door. Still wearing that expression.
"Mr. Matthews?" I kept my voice light. Casual. "Do you know my secretary?"
Cole blinked. The rawness in his face shuttered, replaced by something more composed. More careful. He was good-looking in a polished, corporate way—tall, broad-shouldered, the kind of man who probably played rugby at some Ivy League school.
Strong jaw, straight nose, blue eyes that probably made women swoon. His suit was impeccable, charcoal gray, tailored to perfection.
I sized him up the way I sized up every potential threat. He was older than me by maybe five years. More established. Probably more stable.
But I was better looking. And I had better hair.
"Kim," Cole said slowly, like he was testing the shape of her name. "Yes. I knew her. A lifetime ago."
"Knew her how?"
Cole's expression shifted. Something flickered behind those blue eyes—regret, maybe, or guilt. "She was someone I cared about. Deeply." He paused. Swallowed. "And I did something terrible. Messed the whole thing up. I've wanted to makeamends for years, but..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I wasn't sure she'd want to hear from me."
I felt the heat of competition flare in my chest. Another man. Another man who'd cared about Kim. Another man who was standing in my office, looking at my secretary—my fake girlfriend—like she was something he wanted to reclaim.
I straightened my shoulders. Lifted my chin.
