A name pops out on my schedule in big bold letters. A name I hoped I’d never see or hear again.

Jenna fucking Jacobi.

The one and only.

The bitch that broke my heart and turned me into a monster.

I wasn’t always an asshole. I cared about people other than myself. It’s hard to even imagine it now. Goddamn, I was a fucking pussy. A little boy with a crush who didn’t understand how shitty the world could be.

She changed all of that for me. Taught me that lesson in a hurry. And now, I run shit. Nobody will ever hurt me again.

What the fuck is she doing on my planner?

No fucking way am I doing this. Nope.

I take a deep breath.

I don’t want to see her, yet at the same time, I’m curious.

My notes say she’s here for a divorce consultation. Maybe I can rub it in. Let her know what she’s missed out on. Give her a glimpse of the powerful asshole she created.

Bet she’s popped out a few kids for her cattle rancher husband. Probably fattened her up. Bet her husband’s trading her in for a younger, hotter model.

Even as I think horrible things about Jenna, I can’t help but notice something I haven’t felt in a long time. Anxiety digs into the pit of my stomach, just at the thought of her. I don’t get nervous, ever. Not my style. Yet, it’s like I’ve shoved something deep down inside for a long time and never dealt with it, never let it out of its cage. It’s bubbling toward the surface.

And I plan on doing what every other man on the planet does. Shoving it down farther, burying that fucking weakness. There’s no place in my world for it. Maybe I could’ve been a nice guy. I would’ve been, for her.

Now, I’ve evolved and moved on from that farm boy she knew. The one who wasn’t good enough or rich enough for her family. She’s going to know she fucked up when she takes one look at me. Choosing that piece of shit. Not showing up.

I hope she feels every knife in her stomach that I felt when I stood there that night, alone. I hope she cries every fucking tear I cried, leaving without her. I hope she fills buckets with those tears.

My days working on their ranch are long gone and I have more money than their shit family could dream of. I told myself one day I’d come back and buy that filthy-ass ranch and raze the whole fucking thing. Develop a subdivision on top of it, or strip malls. Everything her father hated about society.

I guess over the years I forgot my plans of revenge. I moved past it. I was better than them. Better than the entire Jacobi clan. I’ve been over Jenna for years. Haven’t even thought about her until this moment.

Biting the cap of my pen, I debate whether I should refer her to Maxwell.

I’m too close to this.

It’s bad form to mix personal with business.

The dam has broken, and memory after memory floods into my mind. Visons of rolling around with Jenna in the barn play on a loop. She was so damn beautiful.

Then it happens.

I catch a glimpse of her through the glass walls encasing my office.

Her strawberry blonde hair bounces against her back in long curls. I remember all too easily how it felt when I would thread my fingers through the strands, just completely lost in her. I can smell her just by looking at her. How is that even possible?

I couldn’t breathe without her. She was life.

She destroyed me.

I’ve never loved another woman. Not even close.

I fuck to get it out of my system and I go back to work. I wouldn’t say I’m a manwhore. Just a pragmatist. I have arrangements. No feelings. No dates. It’s biological and efficient.

Hearts and flowers? Naw. Dating and emotions? Naw.

That part of me is long gone.

I’m a cold, objective courtroom killer.

My secretary buzzes me and I exhale heavily through my nose, making sure the figurative walls are up and locked in position. The only woman I’ve ever loved is in my sights, and I’ll be goddamned if she thinks she’s going to blow up my world again.

Her eyes meet mine through the glass and she smiles. It’s an invigorating carefree smile. Happiness seems effortless with her.

Never again.

I’ll make it through this appointment. Collect my retainer and put one of the junior partners on her case. I’ll never have to see her again. Only her money. Just like that.

Should be easy enough.

“Show her in.” I growl the words into the phone.

“Right away.” Brittany’s inflection tells me she picked up on my tone. She’s adept at reading my moods. Let’s just say if I’m not happy, no one’s happy.

I like things the way I like them. I have a low tolerance for bullshit. It’s called being professional. If people do what they’re supposed to do, we have no problems.

The first thing I notice is Jenna’s figure. Those hourglass hips strut into my office looking every bit like the snotty spoiled bitch she’s always been. I couldn’t see it then, but I do now.

Under that fake tan, plump lips, and luscious tits, is a woman who can’t think for herself. She does whatever Daddy tells her to. I bet it’s the reason she’s getting divorced. Daddy probably snapped his fingers and she jumped to attention.

There’s only one question that I want an answer to at the moment.

Why’d she seek me out?

“Have a seat. Mrs. Jacobi is it?”

A frown crosses her face and I smirk on the inside. “Jaxson?”

“It’s Mr. Black.”

“Oh, umm. Do you know who I am?”

“My one o’clock.” I really do have this ‘being a prick’ game down to a science.

“It’s me—Jenna. Why are you being so…” Her head tilts to the side as she stares. “Quit playing games. You were my first boyfriend.”

“We can skip the trip down memory lane. I vaguely remember you strutting on your dad’s ranch in short shorts and expensive boots. I see here you want to file for divorce. I’m going to need a list of your holdings and assets both single and joint. If there’s a prenup I’ll need a copy of that as well. What are your grounds for divorce? Infidelity?” When I look up her mouth is agape and her eyes are wide.

It almost looks like she’s holding back tears.

Maybe it was harsh, but fuck it. Like it’s not harsh what she did? Life’s rough, sweetheart. This is a tickle compared to the way she fucking broke me. No phone calls. No goddamn email. Nothing.

Piss on her.

“This was a mistake,” she whispers.

Linking my fingers behind my head I lean back in my chair. “Just trying to do my job in a professional manner. You’re the one trying to make it personal. I don’t do personal. Haven’t in thirteen years.” I look right at her puffy eyes. “If that’s a problem I can suggest one of my colleagues to handle your needs.”

“I-I came here because I thought you’d be a friend and make sure I’m taken care of. I just—wanted someone I can trust.”

“What?” I scoff. I shouldn’t take the bait, but I just can’t help myself. “What makes you think I give a shit if you keep your pampered lifestyle? Why would you trust me? You’re nothing to me.”

She clamps a palm over her mouth, and here come the fucking waterworks. “How can you say that? You were…” She trails off.

My jaw ticks. I’m bored with this already. It’s not as satisfying as I imagined. “Let’s focus on your case.”

She nods against the hand still pressed over her mouth and grabs her purse. “Right… Everything you need is in here.” She holds out a flash drive.

“I’ll go over it and get papers drawn up.” I take the information from her slender hand. Her fingers brush over my palm and I remember her touch like it was yesterday. Fuck. I should send her away. Give the case to Maxwell.

I need to get far away from her. The one big problem is, I don’t know if I want to.