Page 8 of Threaded Lies

Either he has a ridiculous amount of restraint, or he simply doesn’t care.

For a man as meticulous with details as I’ve learned Holden to be? I opt for the latter.

And isn’t that the point to all this? That I’m so sick of men taking advantage of me in my life. Of using me for their own gains? If he can’t figure out why I’m pissed, why I agreed to marry Chad, then it’s not my fucking responsibility to spell it out for him.

So as hard as it is, I can’t confront him. I’ve shown all my cards before and look where that got me.

“Excuse me,” Lyle says when he walks back into the room. I startle, but one glance his way says he’s just as uncomfortable interrupting as I am figuring what to say. “I just need to gather a few more things. I won’t be but a minute.”

“No problem.” I offer him a sincere smile and wonder if I’m glad for his interruption or upset by it.

“These pictures were a waste of time,” Holden says quietly through gritted teeth. It seems he was more affected by them than he let on. Good. “We’re not using them.”

“Like hell we aren’t.”

Lyle nods to both of us but keeps his head ducked down as he exits, clearly sensing the tension.

“In case you forgot, I have the final say on everything and you being half naked on our ad campaign isn’t—”

“Isn’t what? To your liking? Do you think you have any right or ownership or any say at all when it comes to me?”

“My company. My say.”

“But it’s not your company yet,” I say. Refute me. Tell me it is. Tell me that the executed contract I saw signed in your drawer wasn’t real and that you’re still giving me the board seat and the 1 percent of your ownership that you promised.

Because that is what I saw.

Rhett’s signature on a contract that was way different from the one you gave me to approve. The one you used as a ruse to make me believe everything you said was true.

The one that gave me a leg to stand on in my family company when all anyone else has ever pegged me to be is a reluctant society lady.

Give me a truth here, Holden, so I know you are the man I thought you were.

Holden just stands there, holding his ground with a stoic expression that borders on fury, highlighted with a clenched jaw.

Nothing.

Fuck.

Rage and hurt and heartache fire anew.

My company. My say. My ass.

“Yeah, well, for a self-proclaimed mastermind, you sure are missing the mark, Knight.” With perfect timing, my robe accidentally slips, baring my shoulder and the red strap of my bikini top.

He growls, and that muscle in his jaw pulses. “Those photos will not be used,” he reasserts.

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t share.” I wave a hand absently at him and take a step back. “I think that no longer applies.”

“Rowan.” My name is a warning not to walk away from him.

I retreat a few more steps. His eyes reflexively glance over the length of my body. “I expect honesty at all times,” I say. “Weren’t those your words?”

“Meaning?”

“Weren’t they?”

“None of this makes sense,” he says, and it’s the closest he’s come to asking why I’m engaged to Chad. I can see the question in his eyes and I so desperately want him to ask.