Fuck, how the hell did the press find out about what happened between Derek and I? It doesn’t make any fucking sense. Unless we were being spied on, I don’t see how they might have found out about us. Unless … unless Derek told someone. But no, that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he do such a thing?

Not that it matters now; the truth is out there, and it’s being spun into a multitude of half-truths and bullshit stories, all of it so that more newspapers can be sold, and more audiences reached.

All that has plunged my office into chaos. Analysts and interns are running around like headless chickens, and even my legal department seems to be acting as if the nuclear holocaust had just started. Amongst all the chaos and despair, only Cheryl seems to be keeping a cool head. Thing is, I know that she was just keeping a smile on her face for show, because she knows how much I need someone to hold onto in the middle of this storm.

“You can drop me here, I’ll walk the rest of the way,” I say through the intercom, leaning back against the leather seat in the limo. A minute later the limo parks close to the sidewalk and, without waiting for the driver to open my door, I step out onto the street. I’m just a block away from my apartment, and I need to get some fresh air. Maybe that’ll help me cool my head.

Buttoning up my jacket, I throw my overcoat on top of it and close it, sheltering myself from the light rain that has started to fall. People rush all around me like a river current, everyone going about their daily lives completely oblivious that chaos has been unleashed in the financial world. Some of them might've read about it, but it’s not like whatever story the newspaper has made up will have an impact on their daily lives. Just like every day, the world keeps on turning without giving a crap about what happens to anyone in particular.

I walk inside my apartment building as if I’m in a daze, my brain racing at one hundred miles per hour. I’ve tried to reach Derek and Eliza, but I can’t get through to them. That has me even more worried, but it’s not like I’m surprised, much like what happened to me all day, they’re probably swamped in meetings and phone calls, dealing with their own brand of chaos.

Stepping foot inside my apartment, I shut the door with the tip of my foot and throw my overcoat and jacket over the couch. I roll up the sleeves of my shirt and, still feeling as if I’m inside of a dream, I make a straight line toward the drink cabinet. I’ve never been a hard drinker and, even though wine is usually my comedown drink of preference, today is a good day to follow Derek’s footsteps. I pour myself a hearty dose of a 40-year-old Glenfiddich and, without even blinking, I down the whole thing at once. I grimace as the aged malt burns its way down my throat, and then I pour myself one more.

I feel my phone buzz inside my pocket and I fish it out in a hurry, hoping to see Derek or Eliza’s number on the screen. Instead, it’s a text message from Cheryl. I tap the screen with my thumb, and two simple words glare back at me: “TV. NOW.”

Sitting down on the couch, drink in my hand, I grab the remote and turn on the flat screen over the fireplace. I’m ready to run through a lot of channels before I find whatever it is Cheryl wants me to see, but the moment the TV lights up I realize why she only told me to turn on the TV: almost every channel is broadcasting the same thing.

A few talking heads are babbling about the scandal of the day, but what draws my attention is the headline underneath them: Derek STACKFORD PRESS CONFERENCE IN A FEW MINUTES.

What the hell is Derek thinking? Talking to the media at such a time is like pouring gasoline into a fire that’s already out of control. Grabbing my phone, I try to call him once more, but to no avail.

Fuck.

Gripping the glass in my hand so tightly it might just shatter, I look at the TV with wide eyes and a racing heart, anxiety kicking in as I wait for Derek to show up. It doesn’t take long; just five minutes after I turned the TV, and the image pans to Derek entering a press room, a dead serious expression on his face. The whole room is abuzz as he walks in, but then the noise dies down as he assumes his position behind the mic.

“Good evening,” he starts, giving one passing glance over the crowd of reporters and then focusing on the cameras in front of him. “I came to you because I think it’s time the world knows the truth. As we all know, Eliza Seymour has returned to the US to manage the Seymour estate. As everyone also knows, Eliza is my stepdaughter, and she came to me soon after arriving in the United States. She had partnered with Carter Blake, and they pressured me into helping them embezzle a large sum.” He reaches for the glass of water on the side and takes a deep gulp, and I notice that he’s sweating.

“Eliza wanted to get a large share of her fortune out of the country through an investment in Red Lion Aviation and, together with Carter, she tried to enlist me to her cause. I tried to stop them, but … but I couldn’t. I’ve already contacted the IRS and the Department of Treasury, and now this matter will be investigated through official channels.” He gives one more passing glance over the crowd and then just purses his lips. “That’s all,” he says abruptly, and then the room seems to explode, every single one the journalists in there trying to scream out a question.

Without even bothering to listen to them, Derek just turns on his heels and allows himself to be escorted out of the room by his security personnel.

Oh fuck, what the hell just happened? I must be fucking dreaming. After everything that happened between the three of us, I simply can’t comprehend why Derek would do something like this. This is fucking insanity.

I pace around my living room without knowing what to do (or even what to think). Two glasses of whisky later, there’s something that brings me down to Earth: someone’s knocking at my door.

Loosening my tie, I make my way toward the door and open it, already knowing who’s on the other side.

“I don’t understand,” Eliza says, her words frail and quivering. There’s a sad glint in her eyes, and her makeup is smeared: she was crying on the way to my place.

I don’t even say a word: I just wrap my arms around her and pull her inside, holding her tightly as a violent sob takes over her. She buries her face against my chest and I stroke her hair softly, laying a gentle kiss on her head.

“I don’t understand,” she repeats, pulling back from me. There are tears streaming down her face and, fuck, seeing her like this is enough to break my heart. Derek’s lucky he isn’t here, or else I’d give him the beating of his life. “Why? Why would he do something like this…?”

I simply shake my head, not knowing what to say. She bites on her lower lip, looking at me as if she hopes I know what to do.

“It must’ve been Wanda,” I whisper and, the moment my ex-wife's name falls from between my lips, I realize there’s no other way to explain this. She was already pulling Derek’s strings before all this and, somehow, she’s still doing it right now.

“She … she came to me. She told me she would do anything … she wants my money and she … God, I never thought she’d do such a thing. And Derek!” She falls into my arms again, and I hug her tightly, breathing in deeply and allowing the scent of her body to calm me down. Somehow, having her in my arms has erased all the stress that ran through my veins like poison. As long as she’s with me, I know that everything will be alright.

“I promise you…” I find myself saying, the words blossoming in my mouth. “I’ll always look after you, Eliza. Always.” She looks into my eyes for a long moment, and then she just nods.

“I believe you…” she whispers, resting her delicate hands on my chest. “I believe you. But Derek… I don’t understand. I thought I could trust him too.”

“I know, Eliza, I know… but Wanda is a dangerous woman and she has dug her claws into him. You know... before I met Wanda, Derek and I used to be friends,” I say, sighing as I remember what happened so long ago, how that monster of a woman destroyed a friendship I thought was eternal.

“Friends? I didn’t know. What happened?” she asks me, wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand.

“Me and Derek, we met at college… Hit it off right from the start, and we even started working as interns for Carter Jeffries together. But then Derek started making serious money, and that drew Wanda’s attention. The moment she laid her hands on him, it was over. He stopped taking my calls and, next thing I knew, we had become strangers.”

“Just like that…?”

“Just like that,” I nod. “And I think that was exactly part of her plan. Because one year later I met Wanda at a party… And, fuck, I hate to say it, but she cheated on Derek with me. We were friends, and she turned us into enemies…” I offer Eliza a sad smile, remembering how much of a fool I was. “She played us, and she took quite a chunk of both our fortunes as she left us.”

She looks at me, surprised, and I caress her cheek with the back of my hand, brushing my thumb over her lips. “I just thought that… that things could be like they were before Wanda showed up. All these years, I missed Derek. And now he’s gone again…”

“Is it true, then?” she asks me in a whisper, and I know exactly what she’s talking about.

“Yes, it’s true. Me and Derek, we fucked,” I tell her and, hell, it feels good to be honest. It feels good to trust someone this much and be able to reveal who I really am.

“I was never sure, but I had my suspicions.” She smiles at me, and then she’s the one brushing her thumb over my lips, her eyes locked on mine. “You wanted him, and he wanted you.”

“Yes,” I merely say, losing myself in her eyes. “Ever since I met him I … felt different around him. And I always thought that he felt the same. But we were young and foolish … and we just hid our true feelings from each other. But what happened a few days ago, it was inevitable.”

“I know,” she whispers, one of her hands over my chest, feeling my heartbeat. “And I’m glad it happened. I really am.”

“You’re… glad?”

“I am. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it's that you don’t put chains around the ones you love.”

Leaning in, I place one hand on the nape of her neck and brush my lips against hers. “I just wish you were there with us when it happened,” I tell her with a smile, and her lips open up into a grin.

“I wish I was there too.” She runs her tongue between her lips, and then bites down on her lower lip. “I wish I could’ve seen you together… how was it…? Tell me.”

“It was… amazing,” I admit, grinning back at her. “We kissed, we sucked, we fucked… We did it all, Eliza, no holds barred. I ran my hands over his naked body; I kissed his delicious lips… I did everything I wanted to for so long.”

She looks at me with her lips slightly parted, and she doesn’t need to say anything for me to know that she wants me to continue.

“And his cock… I don’t need to tell you how good he is, do I? You know it as well as I do.”

“I do… I do.”

“If only you were there…”

“I love you,” she says out of the blue, pursing her lips together and simply allowing these three words to explode in her mouth. “I love you. I love you so much, Carter. We’ve lost Derek … let’s not lose each other.”

Love—that word hits me like a brick, and a sudden realization explodes in my mind: I love her. I love Eliza with every fiber of my being.

And she must know it.

“I love you too,” I whisper back at her, my heart suddenly drumming a song of happiness. “And you won’t lose me. Not now, not ever.” I smile at her, all worry and sadness washing away from me. Even though Derek left a hole in my heart, the joy I’m feeling right now is enough to hide it from sight.

Placing both my hands in Eliza’s waist, I pull her into me and crush my mouth against hers.

Derek might not be here with us, but right now all I need is Eliza.