{Thea}
Standing beside him felt like I was standing on the edge of a ledge, just about to jump off. Noah's voice flowed over me, settling right between my ears, yet I didn't hear a single word he said. I watched his jaw flex as he spoke, the way his hands rested against the leather of his coat, the pale line at his temple where the light hit.
So this was the infamous Noah Blackwood, Curtis's uncle — a man who had walked into that room and somehow taken the very air out of it. But my mind kept looping around a different fact, one that embarrassed me so badly I wanted to hide inside my collar.
He could tell my mind was elsewhere, so he held up his hand and flicked it in front of my face like he was clearing smoke. "Thea," he said.
"Yeah," My voice came out thinner than I meant, and I was pretty sure he didn't hear it. Then, before I could even stop myself, the words tumbled out of my mouth. "Why didn't you tell me?"
His face changed instantly, and his eyes… the calm, cold gray orbs darkened with a subtle intensity. I guess he immediately understood what I was talking about.
"Why didn't you tell me you were family?" I pushed on regardless. The memory of his hotel room, the warmth of his fingers, the shame that had practically hummed under my skin since that morning, pressing into the front of my throat.
"It was somewhat hard to tell you that I was your husband's uncle…" he said with a voice dry enough to start a small fire as he looked me directly in my eyes with those enchanting gray orbs of his. "When you kept grabbing at my naked body."
There was an edge to his words, and I couldn't tell if it was an accusation or a joke. I felt my cheeks flush and the heat radiate from my skin. "Ex-husband." I practically spat, not wanting to ever be associated with Curtis ever again.
Noah's mouth twitched, but it wasn't exactly a smile that followed. "Yes. Ex." He didn't bother to be pleasant.
"And you had on a towel," I added quickly.
"For the first few minutes, yes." he smirked.
I glared at him, furious that he was relishing the memory. "You knew I had been drugged." My hands folded into fists, and I struggled to keep them by my sides. "You should have stopped it. It was your duty to make sure—"
"I'm afraid not." He cut me off quite easily. "With how you were that night, I couldn't have thrown you out. God knows what would have become of you."
The words landed with a strange weight. He wasn't apologizing, but stating a plain fact, yet it struck a chord deep inside of me.
"And what happened wasn't only my fault. I'm only human." he added.
If that was meant to comfort me, it didn't. It made me angrier instead — at him, at myself, at the absurdity of needing any kind of comfort from a Blackwood. I tried to collect myself, the air smelled faintly of winter and expensive leather, and I felt suddenly that I didn't belong anywhere near him or his exquisite indifference.
"Now that I've answered your question, will you finally answer mine?" I heard him ask, making me squint.
"What question?" I managed.
"What transpired between you and Curtis. What's going on, Thea?"
It felt ridiculous to tell him. Everything about him suggested he could find out a thousand and one ways without me. "You're Noah Blackwood," I said, the words out before I could smother them. "You could find out any of this without asking."
He allowed a small shrug. "I could. But I'd rather hear it from you."
With no choice, I told him. I told him about the Leighton Steel ownership documents, about Jennifer and what happened in Curtis's office, about the way he'd used the hotel manager and the threat of a lawsuit to make me sign the divorce papers. I told him about Liam, and how my father had used the company as collateral, how the loan sharks had just shown up and wreaked havoc. I said the word 'kidnapped' and felt my heart break yet again.
"How much?" he asked when I finished.
"Four hundred million," I said, even as the number felt obscene in my mouth. "If I could get half of it, then the loan sharks will let Liam go. That's what they said." I watched his face for any flicker of sympathy and found only the usual emotionless stare. "I thought Curtis could at least help me with the first half, so I can rescue my little brother. I'll find a way to raise the rest."
He surprised me this time by laughing. It was quick and rich, like he was watching something effortlessly funny, and no matter how hard he tried to hold back the laugh, he couldn't.
"And how do you plan to raise the other half?" he asked, his amusement clear as day.
My throat closed. I felt ridiculous and suddenly exposed, "Don't laugh at me," I said, a little disheartened.
All I had was the little flicker of hope that was still alive in my heart. If I lost that, then it meant I would have truly lost everything.
He looked at me, and for a moment, his eyes were not so cold. "I'm not laughing to be cruel. It's just efficient to know what's possible and what's just desperate theatrics."
"Desperate theatrics?" I scoffed.
I was appalled, and more than ready to argue with this man. I was ready to explain that hope and desperation were not interchangeable. I wanted to tell him that it didn't matter if it looked like theatre when the curtains were litertally about to fall on my little brother's life.
"Thank you." The words came out smaller than I intended, because despite everything — despite the laugh, the indifference, the way my dignity had been tucked into a corner and abandoned like a single pair of old socks — he had gotten me safely out of Curtis's house.
But one thing was for sure, I certainly didn't like owing him. I didn't like the twist in my stomach that bloomed whenever he looked at me too long. And I sure as hell did not want to be a person who took money from a Blackwood.
"I should go," I said.
I needed to be somewhere where the world made sense; maybe the plain and tacky leather of a taxi seat, or the bright blue of the UBER app, anywhere I could breathe without the memory of his hands on my body and his breath on my neck invading my thoughts.
I turned away as I hurried toward the drive where my ride would meet me. "Thea, wait!" Noah called out, but I only quickened my steps.
The UBER pinged in my phone: Three minutes. I checked my reflection in the blackened glass of the hedges and saw only a woman with too little sleep and pent-up fear just waiting to erupt.
Exactly three minutes later, my hand was on the UBER car door, about to open it, when I felt a firm grip on my shoulder. "Hold on a moment," Noah's voice said, causing me to look up.
"I wish you goodluck, Thea," He held out a slip of paper, and I instinctively took it from him without thinking.
Noah didn't wait while I looked down, and simply walked towards his waiting car, slid into the back seat without looking back, and the car zoomed off, leaving me with so many questions.
I unfolded the paper in my hand, and my breath stopped in my chest for a few seconds. It wasn't a note like I had thought, but a cheque… for 400 million dollars.