Throne of Truth (Truth and Lies Duet #2)(19)

That was before the necklace.

Now, I would tell him to go away—no matter what explanations he formed.

Greg finished his last mouthful, smacking his lips and pushing the plate away. He nodded in appreciation. “Best lunch I’ve had in a while.”

“You obviously don’t get out much then.”

“I work for you.” His eyes narrowed. “I normally work through my lunch break because you expect so much from your staff.”

I couldn’t let him get away with that bullshit. “Whatever, Greg, your executive assistant does her job and yours combined. You’re never in your office; you’re always off site.”

His lips tightened.

“What? You think I don’t notice? That I don’t keep an eye on my employees?” I dragged out the word, enjoying the way he shifted full of annoyance in his chair. “It’s my company. Of course, I’m aware of who’s doing a good job and who isn’t. And I hate to say it, but you’ve never done a good job. Even from the first day Steve asked Dad to give you that position. You’ve taken your salary and done nothing for it.”

I wiped my mouth with my napkin, no longer hungry. “In fact, I’ve been claiming your salary as a charity donation on our tax returns because I have to pay your executive assistant twice her normal wage so she doesn’t walk out and leave your department in shambles.”

His mouth hung open. “You truly are a bitch.”

“And you’re just a bastard. Guess we’re even.”

He crossed his arms while I let the chain fall into my lap, the cuffs heavy around my wrists.

“What a way to ruin a nice lunch, Noelle.” He stood, snatching his plate before storming to my side of the table and grabbing mine. “Does it make you feel good to think you’re still so high and fucking mighty?”

I didn’t let his shadow looming over me intimidate me. I straightened my back, glowering directly into his eyes. “First, it’s Elle. I never have, and never will like Noelle. And second, yes it does make me feel good to point out your flaws and show you that whatever this is—” I flashed the engagement ring sparkling on my finger—the same ring I’d tried to pull off for the second time only to earn a slap so hard, I suspected his handprint still glowed on my cheek “—is a sham.”

Furious tears and racing heartbeats wobbled my words. “You’re just like him. You force an engagement on me and expect me to go along with it!” I laughed with disbelief. “I was an idiot where Penn was concerned. I should’ve stood up to him more. Should’ve dug into his background sooner, but I didn’t because beneath his lies, I actually liked the glimpses of normalness.”

I sneered at Greg. “But when I look at you, all I see is rotten greed. All I smell is hunger for things you haven’t earned and never will.”

My hands curled just before his fist connected.

It crunched against my cheekbone, layering upon the last punch, no doubt turning the faint grayness under my eye into a full-on black spot.

My head snapped to the side, my chin lolling on my chest as my arms shot out to grip the table. I teetered on the edge, only a fraction away from falling out of the chair and puddling at his feet.

I’d known it would come to this, yet I couldn’t help myself. I had to tell him off like a silly little child because that was what he was.

A child.

An ignorant little boy who needed a good spanking.

“That’s the last time you’ll ever talk to me like that.” His breath smacked my hair with fury. “Hear me?”

I blinked and dared to shake my head a little. The world righted itself. The pain dimmed. I sat firmer in the chair, planting my elbows on the table and cradling my head. The chain and cuffs hindered me as I hid behind a curtain of tangled hair and pressed exploratory fingers to my puffy, hot cheek.

Ouch.

God, it hurt.

My tears were from physical pain instead of emotional frustration this time. I didn’t bother to stop them as they splashed sadly against the tabletop where my lunch had been.

Greg stomped into the kitchen and tossed the plates into the sink. China cracked with a loud splinter, but he didn’t care. Marching back toward me, he hoisted me to my feet with biting fingers around my elbow. “You want to fight, Elle? Fucking fine, we’ll fight.” Dragging me into the living room, he pointed at the hallway. “Choose, right now. Bed or couch.”

I squinted, doing my best to ignore the pain throbbing in my head. “What?”

“Bed or couch.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

He pressed his nose against mine. “I’m going to fuck you. Would you prefer over the couch like a whore or in the bed like my fiancée?”

Everything went black and cold.

So, so cold.

I squirmed in his hold; stepping backward the cuff around my ankle jingled and I stepped on the chain looped behind me for the thirty-seventh time, hurting yet another piece of me. “Greg, stop. I don’t want either.”

“Too fucking bad. You need to learn your place. You’re no longer my boss or the CEO, Elle.” His voice lowered to a hiss. “I am.”

Grabbing a handful of my hair, he threw me onto the plaid couch. The scratchy material stuck to my gold negligée like Velcro as I scooted sideways, trying to reach the other end and climb off.