One Last Time(83)

He blows a heavy breath from his nose. “She’ll see where you were coming from. It was an impossible situation. You did what anyone would’ve done.”

That doesn’t change the fact that I left. I turned my back on her just like people did to me.

“And you think she’ll just forget that I gave up on her that quickly?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I really don’t, but in this industry, you did exactly what you needed to. She has to understand that.”

“You don’t get it. She isn’t in this industry like that.”

“How not? She’s a celebrity blogger, Noah. You do a feature against my recommendation, and fall in love with her, and then, suddenly, something we’ve managed to keep out of the press is leaked after you confide in her? Come on.”

Who cares about the reasons? There’s a right and a wrong, and I chose wrong. I abandoned her when she clung to me, begging me not to go. Maybe I did what was best for my career, but not for us, or her, or my damn heart.

I lean against the wall and let my head fall back, making a loud thump. “Others believed her.” I point out. “Someone else dug deeper.”

Tristan leans against the wall next to me, and my self-loathing grows. I could’ve done whatever necessary to prove she didn’t or really did. It isn’t as if I don’t have the capability, but I saw no other possibilities than it was her.

“Yeah, but you were on the receiving end of the shit-storm. You had to deal with the fallout. I don’t know, I think you were in a no-win situation and you did the best you could.”

Maybe he’s right, but my heart told me she didn’t do this. I never thought she was capable of being that deceitful, it was my head that wouldn’t get on board. Now, I’ve lost her, and I have no idea if I can get her back.

I rub my now-throbbing hand. “Tell me you guys didn’t do anything to ruin her.”

“I was able to discredit the site as fake news, but it’s out there. We held off a bit more than I would’ve, but Kristin is related to Catherine.”

“Catherine your boss? The woman who came to my house is part of her family?”

He raises his hands and drops them. “One and the same. She wanted to leave no stone unturned before we did something to Kristin that we couldn’t take back. Catherine’s husband runs a security company, and . . . well, I was told I don’t want to know more than that. They ruled out her sending it about thirty minutes after you sent me the text from the plane.”

Jesus Christ. For two days I’ve been drinking myself stupid while she’s been sitting there thinking God knows what.

“Does she know that no one has told me until now?”

“I don’t know. We’re skating a really blurry line because, typically, we’d never have any contact with her. With Catherine’s husband being her cousin, it has made handling this a little different.”

None of that matters to me. I told him in the beginning I didn’t want to even make a statement. “I care about her, I don’t care about the lines.”

Tristan chuckles. “I know you don’t, but you’re our client. I’m paid to fix your messes, and family or not, our loyalty is to you, not anyone else.”

“Right.” I run my hand down my face. “I want to know who is behind this. I want them destroyed. I don’t give a fuck what you have to do, but they framed her . . . I’m not holding back this time.”

“Understood,” Tristan says with a smug smile. “I wish I could give you more, but you need to talk to Kristin if you want details.”

Whoever did this is about to have the wrath of Hell brought down on them. I’m going to destroy their world like they did to ours. However, I’ll let Tristan handle that, I have something else that needs to be fixed, and right now, that’s all I care about.

“One more thing,” I say. “There’s about to be another mess you’re going to have to clean up.”

Tristan chuckles. “Yeah, that’s the second reason I’m here. I figured I’d have some work to handle in France.”





Chapter Thirty-Four





Kristin





Three days.

Seventy-two hours.

Four thousand, three hundred, and twenty-eight minutes without a word from Noah. Now twenty-nine minutes. Not that I’m counting or anything.

I hoped when he heard it wasn’t my computer or house it came from, he’d call or text or . . . something. I guess he either didn’t believe it or doesn’t care.

Broken promises and a broken heart are all I have left of what we shared.

My nerves are shot, I haven’t slept, and waiting for Jackson to call with the results from the trace on who sent the email is slowly killing me. I need to know who is behind this. I’m desperate to find out who hates Noah or me enough to set out to ruin both of us.

A knock at the door sends my heart into overdrive. Maybe it’s Noah? I leap up from the couch and rush there. What am I doing? I stop short.

He left me without so much as a backward glance. I was completely expendable to him, and he hurt me, worse than Scott ever had.

Another knock.

It’s probably not him anyway. I open the door, and sure enough, it isn’t. It’s Catherine, and she brought a bouquet of flowers.