As soon as I sit down at my desk, I flip open my laptop and begin opening up old files on my hard drive. I spend an hour sorting through folders that I haven't bothered opening in months, and then I see something that stops me cold.
It's an old news clip that I saved. I can't believe I forgot about this.
The headline reads: "Two CEOs Create Powerhouse Partnership."
What the fuck?
When I squint down at the picture, I see two people sitting at a table, staring at each other starry-eyed and locked in an embrace.
Those two people are none other then Athena Hawke and Ben Danvers.
Nothing in my life has prepared me for this feeling. I'm a man who needs to be in control. I need to control my environment—every fucking piece of it.
Seeing this feels like I've just stepped on a land mine, and came within inches of blowing myself up.
If it's one thing I don't have right now, it's control.
The realization solidifies in my mind. Athena and Ben were … a couple. It appears that they made some of the biggest business deals together in this city's history.
So, what's she doing with me?
I ball both of my hands into fists, and slam one hand down on top of my desk. The force of it makes a cup of pens clink against each other, and a stray piece of paper slides off the mahogany and onto the floor.
How could I be so fucking stupid?
Ben has always wanted to get back at me. Is this how he's finally succeeding in doing it? Is he using Athena to bring me down?
Are they both sitting back, and collectivity laughing at how gullible I've been?
I keep a heavy set of weights in my office for times like these—when I'm so fucking pissed I need to release it without breaking something.
I walk over to the weights and grab them, one in each hand. Then I tighten my muscles and curl, one rep after another until my biceps are burning and swollen under my button-up shirt. Even then I don't stop, rep, after rep.
Engage.
Curl.
Burn.
Release.
I can picture them now, Athena and Ben sharing a laugh over an over-priced cocktail. I can almost hear Ben saying, look at this guy, we laid a trap and he walked right into it. Who knew it was this easy pulling the wool over his eyes?
Curl.
Burn.
Release.
Yes, Athena must be working for Ben. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. I'm such a fucking idiot.
Curl.
Burn.
It seems to be one woman after another that tumbles my life into chaos. But I need to stay focused. I refuse to let them sit back and have the last laugh at my expense.
I curl the weight in my arm, and instead of releasing it I hold the weight, feeling my muscles tense and burn across my entire bicep.