Chapter 160: Run, Ivybear. Run.

IVY

"Would your assistant mind excusing us for a moment?"

Richard Montagne asked pleasantly, his fingers gripping the contract I had just handed over to him. I glanced at Jenny, who was sitting beside me with her tablet balanced on her knee, pen frozen halfway.

I had been in this restaurant for about thirty minutes, the evening sun dipped through the glass, casting over the glasses of wine on our table.

I had been awake since five this morning, all I wanted was his signature and I could get the hell out of here.

"Is there a problem, Mr Montagne?"

"Not at all." He leaned back in his chair. "I just want a word with you before I sign. Won’t take long, I promise."

I gave Jenny a small nod.

"I’ll be waiting by car, ma’am," She rose from her seat and left the restaurant.

Richard was thirty, around Gideon’s age, with dark hair and warm brown eyes. I had no idea why a young man like him wanted to invest in my father’s company despite all the rumours going around, but never bite the hand that feeds you, right?

At least he wasn’t like the old men my father usually dragged me to meet.

"I’ll be honest with you, Harper," he grabbed his wine glass by the stem. "I know you went through a divorce recently and the past few days haven’t been easy. But I would very much like to take you to dinner." His eyes held mine. "I would make it worth your time."

Seriously? Not him either.

"Mr. Montagne, I appreciate it. But this is a business meeting, and I’d much rather we kept it that way."

"Richard, call me Richard."

"I would rather not,"

He laughed lightly, not offended in the slightest. "You’re going to make me work for it. I like that."

"There’s nothing to work for."

"Then I’ll have to work harder to change your mind." He chuckled, leaning forward. "I’ll be frank. The only reason I looked at Kingsley and Co. at all was because of you. Your father’s numbers aren’t exactly thrilling. But you? I saw you speak at a summit in April and I haven’t stopped thinking about it."

I was too tired to be flattered. There was a headache building behind my eyes, threatening to pound my brain to mush.

"I’m flattered, but I would still prefer to keep this professional. Now, if we could-"

He slid the unsigned contract across the table. "I’ll sign this if you do one thing for me."

My jaw tightened.

You’re about to get smacked to hell buddy. It’s a shame, I was starting to find him bearable compared to other investors. "And that is?"

"Give me a chance."

He reached inside his jacket and took out a red envelope, with gold letters on a flap. He set it on the tablecloth and nudged it to my side with two fingers.

"The Calloway Charity Gala. It is strictly by invitation only. Come with me. If I can’t change your mind by the end of the night, I’ll sign the contract and I’ll never bother you again. You have my word."

A few minutes later I walked out of that restaurant with the contract unsigned, the invitation burning a hole in my clutch. There’s nothing that could change my mind. The only men I wanted, wanted nothing to do with me.

When I got to the car, my evening got even more unpleasant when I saw Jake grinning at me, leaning against my car.

"Damn," he drawled. "I saw you in there with that guy. Harps, you really do move on fast."

I ignored him pulling the back door open. I didn’t have time for this.

"Hey." He spat. "I’m talking to you."

"Jenny, get in the car,"

"Oh, what? Now you think you’re some big shot?" He pushed off my car, his eyes wild with anger.

"One little press conference and suddenly you’re the queen of the whole damn company. You know I could snatch it all from you so easily, right? I’m a lot closer to finding out what you’ve been hiding than you think."

"You know, I was wondering," I mused, tilting my head up at him. "why you’d been so quiet lately. I was almost starting to worry. It’s good to see you’re getting back to your normal self."

His eyes twitched. "Ha. You have no idea what I’m capable of, Harper."

"You’ll take the company from me? Go ahead and try. You’re wasting your time, Jake."

"Being a bitch doesn’t suit you,"

"Kingsley and Co. is mine. By birthright, and by every single time and effort, I’ve put into it." I spat, and he took a step back, clearly taken aback. "No one, no one, has sacrificed more than I have for this company. It is mine, and it is going to stay that way."

Jake’s face went red. "You think you can talk to me like that?" He jabbed a finger toward me, spitting curses. "You’re gonna regret this, you stuck-up bitch! You hear me? I’ll make sure you fucking regret it!"

"Jenny, are you getting in or not?"

The car pulled away, in the side mirror, Jake grew smaller and smaller, still screaming at the empty street.

** ** ** ** **

"Run, Ivybear."

I woke up gasping. The sheets were stuck to my back, my nightgown was soaked through, and my heart was slamming so hard, it might as well jump out of my throat.

I blinked up at the ceiling until it came into focus.

It’s just a dream. It’s just the same dream.

I dragged a hand down my face, then pressed my palm flat against my chest and counted my breaths, recalling Gideon’s voice as he had helped me through my nightmare a month and a half ago.

We had spent that night playing chess in his study, cuddling against each other. The memory made tears burn at the corners of my eyes.

I peeled the sheets off, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and glided barefoot downstairs, through the dark living room and into the kitchen. The tiles were freezing as hell. I didn’t bother with the lights. I filled a glass at the sink and drained down half of it standing there, leaning against the counter.

Run, Ivybear.

What was mom telling me to run from? I had asked myself that so many times over the years and never gotten an answer. Maybe she meant this. This exhausting life.

Trying to get the company, please the board and my father. Lying and lying and lying all the damn time!

I threw the glass into the sink, disappointed when it didn’t shatter.

"God, I am so tired," What was the time? I glanced at the clock on the wall bleary eyed. Past two in the morning?

I had been working myself nonstop, eighteen-hour days, back-to-back meetings, anything to keep my head too full to think about what I had said on Wednesday in the press conference at the hospital.

A man who has been stalking me for years.

"Another stupid lie," My stomach rolled in disgust. I was done. No more lying, I couldn’t stomach it anymore. There had to be better ways to get the company.

What if they saw? What if the Knights saw that press conference? I could only imagine that they would hate me even more.

The sound of notifications on my phone pinged from the bedroom and another groan left my lips. "Just what I needed at two am,"

The cherry on top of this rotten cake was that ever since that press conference, my inbox had been raining with messages from men I had barely met, men I had never met. A CEO twice my age, a senator’s son, some guy I was pretty sure had a wife.

I heard what happened, so sorry. Dinner?

Thinking of you, Harper. Let me take you somewhere nice.

I have absolutely no idea what made them think that after that incident, I was suddenly up for grabs.

"Disgusting," I spat. That notification was probably another message. How did they even get my personal phone line? It wasn’t on the company’s site.

I wandered toward the front window. I probably wouldn’t be able to get any sleep despite how tired I was. Were they thinking of me? Or had they moved on like Tatiana said and I was just a fleeting memory to them?

My fingers tugged at the sleeve of my silk nightdress that barely covered my thighs.

What could I do to get them back? I couldn’t figure it out... my thoughts trailed off as my eyes landed on a figure standing at the end of my driveway, dressed in all black, standing beside a parked motorcycle.

The orange tip of a cigarette glowed in the dark.

No. No way.