"Do you honestly think that you would want anything to do with his business partner?" he asks without emotion.
I don't know how to answer that. Until a few weeks ago I assumed that Tom Walker's widow was Mark's irrelevant and silent partner. I had no idea that his son, my new lover, was the man who held Mark's company's future within his hands. "I don't think that that's relevant." I pause before I continue, taking the time to carefully craft my response. "I think what matters is that you didn't give me a choice. You just swooped in, pretended to be something you weren't and almost snatched Mark's company away from him."
"Why do you insist on calling it Mark's company?" His words are biting. "It belongs to my father. It's mine now. Why can't you see that?"
I don't react. I don't want him to see how weary this is making me.
"Mark has driven the company into the ground. He's taken everything my father built and tossed it aside because he couldn't focus enough on the business at hand. He was too busy fucking anything that passed by him in a skirt," he fumes.
I sit rigidly letting the words soak into my skin, my heart and my soul. Mark. It's all about Mark. It's always been about Mark.
"Christ, Ivy." He pushes his chair and stands. "I didn't mean that."
I silently watch him walk around the table. He crouches before me. I close my eyes. "Please, just go," I whisper as I wave my hand thoughtlessly in the air.
Chapter 13
"Your wish is my command." Mark's overly zealous grin greets me as I swing open the door of my apartment.
I move to allow him to walk in. "Cut out the theatrics, Mark and get in here. The NYPD will be breaking down my door with a battering ram in about two minutes if Mrs. Adams sees you're here."
"Good point, sweetheart." He uses the word naturally and I suddenly wonder if he does it as way to unnerve me. I decide that this time I'm going to completely ignore it.
"Moving back in?" He nods towards the stack of boxes littering the foyer.
"Nope," I say curtly. "I'm moving to Boston."
"Boston?" He twists the word around his tongue as if it's repulsive.
; "Boston," I parrot back to him.
"Why the hell would you go there?" He walks into the living room and settles himself onto the couch. I follow behind and take a seat in the chair opposite him.
"My life isn't your business anymore." I growl. "I didn't ask you over to talk about that."
"Fine." He stares at his fingernails. It's a tactic he's long used when he wants me to believe he's not interested in what I have to say. It's childish, humiliating and pure Mark through and through.
"Let's talk about Brooke." I lean back into the chair, relaxing my shoulders.
"So I did peak your curiosity when I mentioned her." He sits upright. "Is that why you left him?"
"Who said I left him?" I purse my lips together.
He studies my face trying hard to mask the look of surprise that is running along his brow. "You're moving away so it's obviously over."
"Jumping to conclusions isn't smart, Mark," I chuckle. "Sleeping with Brooke probably wasn't one of your brightest moves either."
"I didn't sleep with her." The words fall off his tongue so quickly they almost bounce into one another.
"What's that?" I crane my neck forward as if I didn't hear him. "You didn't sleep with her?"
"Jax did." He spits back at me.
"Yeah, no." I shake my head lightly back and forth. "That's a lie."
He runs his hand over his brow pushing away a few small beads of sweat that are forming. "So now you believe him over me?"