Cruel Legacy (Cruel 3)

She went off on a tangent about some French makeup artist she knew who had insisted that winged eyeliner was a staple to any outfit. Jane could talk about people she’d met all day if I let her.

I pulled out my phone to check my messages while she chatted away. I had one from Penn that said he was regretting going into the office, which I responded to with devil horns. And then an email from my agent, asking if I could chat real quick.

I furrowed my brow and made an excuse to Jane before dialing Caroline’s number. I hadn’t heard from her since she told me my career was effectively over.

“Hello?” Caroline said into the phone.

“Caroline, it’s Natalie. You asked if I had a moment to talk.”

“Yes, Natalie. How are you?”

“I’m doing well. Thank you for asking.”

“That’s wonderful. I actually called with some excellent news.”

“Really?” I asked in surprise.

Since when did my literary agent have good news to offer me? I’d thought my time had passed. That they wouldn’t touch my Olivia Davies books, and now that everyone knew Olivia and Natalie were one in the same, they wouldn’t take my literary novels either. I’d burned both bridges. Also because of fucking Lewis.

“Yes. I heard from Gillian. I guess there was a mix-up.” Caroline was silent a second as if she still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve been in this business thirty years, and this has never happened to me, but Warren wants to purchase It’s a Matter of Opinion. They’re offering the same advance as Bet On It.”

I blinked. Then blinked again.

“They want to do what?” I gasped.

“They’re offering seven figures for the manuscript, for publication next year.”

“But…why?”

“Honestly, I have no idea. But what does it matter? This is great news.”

Then I shook out of the excitement and stupor of the thought that Gillian was going to buy my literary novel and I’d finally be fine again and I’d have money to live in the city and everything would be all right. Because it wouldn’t.

This wasn’t about my book.

This had nothing to do with my book.

Lewis.

Lewis had done this.

And on one hand…I was so excited that he’d fixed his mistake. Because maybe this would mean my career wasn’t over. But on the other hand, it’d mean that I was subject to his whims. It’d mean that my career was tied to him. It’d mean that he was still in control.

“No,” I said softly.

“Excuse me?”

“Tell them thank you, but no.”

“Natalie, I don’t know if you heard me. This is a major deal.”

“I can’t do it.”

Caroline huffed. “Let’s put this discussion on hold for a few days before I give them an answer. Maybe you should think about it.”

“Fine,” I said. Though my answer wouldn’t change. I was sure of that.

I said good-bye to Caroline and then stared at the building in front of me in shock.

Jane came to my elbow with concern on her face. “What happened?”

“After I left, Lewis blacklisted me from publishing.”

“Oh, Natalie…”

“Yeah. And he just fixed it and told the company to buy my book again.”

“Well, that’s great,” Jane said. She paused when I didn’t smile or respond. “Isn’t it?”

“Not if it means I’m tied to him. Not if it means he can control me.”

Jane scrunched up her tiny nose. “Sounds exactly like Lewis in business.”

My eyes shot to hers. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…you know?”

“I clearly don’t.”

“That whole controlling, possessive thing he does with you, that’s how he is with all business. He’s not particularly liked, but he gets shit done.”

“Huh,” I muttered.

I hadn’t had any interest in Lewis’s business dealings. I didn’t understand them. And I never considered that he treated people or other businesses poorly. But of course, I hadn’t seen any of it because I’d been caught up in him at the time. Now, it was pretty clear.

“Well, he’s not going to control me.”

“Powerful men usually get what they want.”

“They do,” I agreed.

A slow smile stretched on my features. Maybe someone should teach them a lesson.

Chapter 12

Penn

Ding.

My eyes shifted toward the living room in surprise as Totle went racing for the door. I slung my Rolex around my wrist and checked the time. Still a half hour before I needed to pick Natalie up for our date.

“Nat?” I called down the hall as I abandoned the knot I had been tying at my neck and let the two strands of blue fall on either side of my button-up.

“Try again,” a voice called out.

My eyes rose in surprise. “Lark? What are you doing here? You do know that it’s just past seven? Shouldn’t you be working for the next three hours?” I joked.

“Ha-ha.” She smiled, but I could see the exhaustion under her eyes.

Lark worked harder than anyone I knew, and it wasn’t even campaign season yet. My mother wouldn’t gear up for reelection for at least another month or two, and Lark would be there every step of the way.