The Man Who Has No Sight (Soulless 4)

“But if the information is encrypted, you wouldn’t know if you made a mistake, like entered a number incorrectly.”

She shrugged. “It’s just one column. You can always redo the numbers yourself. But in general, it would cut down significant time.”

“How would you even have time to do this?”

“I can always make time. I don’t mind. Now, for your paycheck at the end of the month, I can send the encrypted number to you, you can send it to your account, and cut me out of it altogether.” It seemed like she didn’t want to know anything about my money at all, or she was so worried I would think she was a gold digger that she was doing everything possible to clear herself of the label.

But I already knew she wasn’t like that. “You already know I’m a billionaire, so does it really make sense to encode everything? It’s just going to slow you down and make your job more difficult.”

“I don’t mind the extra work. Honestly, I feel more comfortable not seeing those numbers every day. Ignorance is bliss.”

“But I trust.”

“I know,” she whispered. “And I never want to do anything to risk that trust. It means the world to me.” She closed the folder and put it to the side. “So, I think I’ve gathered everything for Thanksgiving. I picked up this really beautiful dining set we could use for dinner. Will Derek and Valerie be joining us?”

I didn’t want to tell her what happened, but it was something I couldn’t keep from her. Valerie might keep Derek away from me for a long time, and that needed an explanation. “I invited her…but she declined my invitation.”

“Plans with Jake?” she asked hopefully.

“No.”

“Well…will Derek be joining us?” Now, she didn’t sound hopeful at all, like she already knew what my answer would be.

I shook my head.

She sighed loudly, painfully. “It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

I wanted to lie—so fucking bad.

She could read it all over my face. “Deacon, I want you to be with Derek. Seriously, I don’t mind—”

“You’re spending Thanksgiving with us.”

She dropped her gaze. “Please don’t feel bad for me. I’ve been alone on the holidays before. It’s really not—”

“That’s not why. I don’t feel bad for you.”

“Well, you should be with your son. If I’m standing in the way of that—”

“Valerie is standing in the way of that. Not you.”

She looked at me again, devastated like I was. “Why does it have to be like this?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I don’t know why Valerie has to act this way. I invited her and she seemed touched, but when I said you would be joining us, she flipped out…like she always does. Said you didn’t belong. But I told her you’re family…because you are.” We weren’t married, but Cleo was such an integral part of my life that she was more than just some woman I was seeing. She was my best friend, my everything. I couldn’t explain the way I felt to Valerie without pissing her off even more.

She stared at me for a long time, her eyes slowly softening.

“Then she told me she would keep Derek from me until I got rid of you.”

“Oh…Jesus Christ.” She slouched over the table, her palms against her cheeks, anger in her gaze. “How can someone be so spiteful? So hateful?”

I would never understand it.

“What are you going to do?” She straightened again.

“What do you mean?” I’d been staring at my hands for a while, so I lifted my chin and looked at her. “I’m not going to do it…if that’s what you’re asking.”

Her voice was a whisper. “Deacon, this is your son.”

“And she’s a tyrant,” I snapped. “She’s going to use him as a pawn in this sick game until he’s an adult. She’s got the strings, and I’m the puppet. Whether I’m with you or another woman, she’ll continue to do this forever. I’m not participating anymore. It’s not about choosing you over him or vice versa. The point is, I shouldn’t have to choose.”

She nodded slightly, her hand moving to mine on the table.

“If I lose Derek…then I’ll know I tried everything I possibly could to make it work. When he’s an adult, I’ll explain everything to him. I know he’ll understand. He’s a smart kid with a sharp memory. I just…I don’t want to miss out on all these years, these holidays, because she’s a fucking bitch.”

“Yeah…”

I was quiet for a long time, trying to find a solution I hadn’t seen before, but there was none. My future was in the hands of my ex-wife, the heartless bitch who liked to twist a blade in my side until I got on my knees. I couldn’t do it anymore.

“If she knows you won’t respond to the threat, maybe she’ll change her mind.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Maybe I can talk to her—”