Chapter 13
Vincent sat alone in the private dining room of a high-end steakhouse. The waiter had poured the wine ten minutes ago, but Vincent hadn't touched it. The door opened, and Claire walked in, looking devastatingly elegant in a black silk dress.
"You wanted to see me on neutral ground," she said, sitting across from him. "You have five minutes."
"I fired Sophia," he said immediately. "Security escorted her out of the building an hour ago."
Claire nodded slowly. "And?"
"And I want to know what it takes to actually fix this," Vincent pleaded, leaning forward. "Not the business, Claire. Us. I made a massive, unforgivable mistake. But I love you."
Claire let out a short, hollow laugh. "You love the idea of me, Vincent. You love that I look good at galas, you love my family's money, and you love that I was quiet."
"That's not true," he reached across the table, trying to take her hand, but she pulled it away.
"It was work, wasn't it?" she quoted softly, mocking Sophia's words from the lobby. "Five nights in London. Did you take her to the restaurant we went to on our honeymoon? Did you buy her the same wine?"
Vincent closed his eyes, the guilt threatening to drown him. "Claire, please."
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"Julian called me," Claire continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He played me the voicemails, Vincent. He played me the recordings of you telling her you were going to leave me."
Vincent froze. "What?"
