The Takeover (The Miles High Club #2)(118)

How could it not?

I think back to how hard Wade worked so that he would have something to hand down to his sons. And in the five and a half years since his death, I have effectively killed everything he worked for.

I’m sick to my stomach.

Tristan chats and laughs with the boys, carefree as he drives, and an unwelcome jealousy fills me. He has no idea what it’s like to struggle.

He’s never had to do it.

I know he works so hard and deserves everything he has, but it’s . . . I can’t even articulate what it is I’m feeling . . . resentment, maybe?

I don’t know why I’m feeling like this now, but with the oncoming demise of Anderson Media, it’s suddenly eating at me.

Maybe I’m just hormonal, or maybe it’s because of the way we met.

From day one I have always known that Wade’s company has been on Miles Media’s acquisitions list. They wanted it, made no secret of it.

It’s how we met.

I pushed it out of my mind for so long . . . but now that it’s impending, it’s all I can think about. Everything Wade wanted is coming to an end, and I just don’t know how to stop it.

We pull up on the street in front of a grand house, and Tristan smiles over at me.

“What’s this?” I ask flatly.

A man gets out of the car in front of us and smiles broadly.

Tristan waves. “Come on, boys, Claire.”

“What are we doing?” I frown.

“Looking at this house.”

“What for?”

“Because I want to buy it for us.” He climbs out of the car, and the boys bounce out after him.

“What?” I frown.

He waves me out . . . fucking hell, I don’t have time for this shit. I get out of the car and walk up to him as he talks to the man.

“Michael, this is Claire, my partner,” he introduces me.

“Hello.” I fake a smile as I shake his hand.

“And these are my boys, Fletcher, Harrison, and Patrick.”

The hairs on the back of my neck rise. His boys.

They are Wade’s boys.

“What a beautiful family you have.” Michael smiles as he leads us up the path toward the house.

“Yes, I do.” Tristan smiles proudly. He’s holding Patrick’s hand and has his other hand on Harry’s shoulder protectively. Fletcher walks with them as they go into the house.

I begin to see red. Why is he showing me houses? I’m not fucking moving from Long Island. I own my house. I’m comfortable there . . . we’re comfortable there.

It’s our home.

It’s what Wade wanted.

I begin to hear my angry heartbeat in my ears as I trail behind.

Calm down . . . calm down . . . calm down. You’re just stressed; calm the fuck down.

The house is huge and set on a large plot of land in a leafy suburb about twenty minutes out of New York. Michael begins his sales pitch. “This is the foyer.”

It’s about the size of our current living room and has a grand sweeping staircase that splits into two near the top level.

Tristan smiles and takes my hand excitedly. “I’ll show them around, Michael,” he says.

My eyes flick to him in question. What? He’s been here before?

How long has he been looking for a house on the sly? I begin to fume inside.

“Of course.” Michael smiles. “I’ll wait outside.”

Michael disappears out the front door, and Tristan smiles proudly. “Pretty sweet, right?”

“Hmm,” I reply as I look around.

“Out here is the kitchen.” We walk through to a large kitchen, and I roll my lips in annoyance. “Wiz and I could cook up a storm,” he says. Harry’s eyes widen in excitement.

I hate it.

Wade has never lived here; his memories are in our current house.

I don’t want new ones without him.

I don’t want to erase everything that he stood for. Why doesn’t Tristan get that?

My pulse begins to throb in my temples, and I feel like I’m about to explode.

I am now seeing red. I can’t deal with this.

“This is the living area,” he gushes.

The boys run to the back windows. “Oh my God, look at the pool,” Patrick cries.

“It has a pool bar, Mom,” Fletcher gasps.

“You’re not old enough to drink,” I snap.

“And look,” Tristan says as he leads me through the house excitedly. “This could be your office.” We peer into a room. It has a large window seat and looks out onto a leafy veranda. “And this could be my office, next door.” He shows me into the office. “There’s a bathroom down here. A second living area for the boys. A gymnasium.”

The boys run through the house in excitement.

Fury begins to burn a hole in my stomach.

How dare he?

He leads me upstairs and down the hall. “Look at the master suite, Claire.” He pulls me into the room, and I look around as I try to hold my sarcastic tongue.

It’s beautiful and the size of half my current house.

“And the bathroom.” He smiles excitedly. I peer in, and it has a huge white-marble bath like I’ve always fantasized about. “Look at the size of your closet, babe.”