Chapter 200: Seven Million

Naomi looked down at her hands. "I didn’t want to become dependent on you."

"I know."

She looked at him. "But things have changed. A lot." She gave him a tiny smile.

Dorian reached over and took her hand. "What exactly are you fighting with yourself about?"

She glanced toward the file again. "My business is your business and your business is my business, right?"

"Yeah..." Dorian answered carefully.

Naomi nodded, but her fingers tightened around his. "That doesn’t mean I want you to carry all of my burdens. Some burdens are mine to carry, and I would hate to put them on you."

"Naomi..."

"No. No, listen to me first."

There was enough worry in her voice now that his instinct to interrupt and fix things had to take a back seat.

"You have to promise me that what I’m about to tell you will not turn into something you have to take on," Naomi said. "I cannot live with myself if you do. I just don’t want to keep anything from you." She wasn’t asking him not to care. She knew better than that. She was asking him not to absorb the problem into himself.

"Alright," he said.

Naomi searched his face. "You promise?"

"Naomi." He exhaled. "Fine. I promise I will listen before I decide anything."

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you saying that because you need an exit loophole?"

"Maybe."

Naomi sighed.

Dorian squeezed her hand. "I’m listening."

She looked away for a moment, then back at him. "I went into the restaurant today to hand in my resignation. I probably shouldn’t have done it so soon. But client requests have been a lot these past few days."

"Resigning is a good move. We discussed this. You can focus on Chef Bennett more. And you’re ready."

Naomi smiled gratefully once more.

The wedding alone had proven she could handle more than she gave herself credit for. She had pulled off a major event under pressure, built client interest and somehow still found time to show up beside him exactly when he wanted her there.

She was ready.

Probably had been for a while. But the resignation clearly wasn’t the real reason they were having this conversation.

Naomi looked down.

Then she reached for the file beside her and picked it up with both hands.

Dorian’s attention moved immediately to it.

"I come with problems, Dorian." Naomi stared at the file as if it weighed more than paper should.

That was when Dorian got a proper look at it.

His brows pulled together. "I think I’ve seen that before."

Naomi’s head snapped up. "What?"

He immediately lifted one hand. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to peek. I didn’t. It fell out of your closet. You asked me to find you underwear. I swear I didn’t make it past the first page."

"Oh... thank you? I know how hard that must have been for you."

"You have no idea. I felt like I was battling with my spirit, soul and body," Dorian said with a chuckle.

Naomi smiled faintly, but the humour didn’t last. She looked down at the file again, thumb brushing over the edge of the papers like she could somehow soften what was inside them before handing the truth over. "My father made a lot of bad investments before he died," she began. "He was trying to recover from them, so he took loans to get back on his feet."

"They weren’t regular bank loans," she added. "You know... the black-market kind. He didn’t finish paying them before he died, and I... uh..." She drew in a slow breath. "I had to start paying the loan as soon as I was old enough. Uncle Richard has been helping so far. Or at least, he was. Then a few months ago, when the marriage to Callum didn’t work out, everything changed and I was left to deal with it on my own."

"I’ve managed to keep up with the payments. It hasn’t been easy, but I have." She swallowed. "Today, though, I was practically hunted down by the collection people."

Dorian’s brows rose. "Excuse me?"

Naomi immediately regretted the wording. "It’s nothing. It wasn’t anything dramatic," she said quickly. "They just wanted to tell me that the payments have to increase now that they assume I’m making a bit more money. They’ve been monitoring me, I suppose, and after the wedding and the requests coming in, they probably think—"

"Naomi, hold the fuck on!"

She stopped immediately. Her lips pressed together.

There was the reaction she had been afraid of.

She had spent the entire day trying to convince herself that telling him was the right thing. Marriage meant trust, and trust meant allowing someone to see the ugly things too.

Still, now that Dorian was staring at her, Naomi wondered if she had made a mistake. Maybe this was the moment he finally realised she came with too much baggage.

Too many problems.

Dorian looked at the file. "First of all, I don’t understand how you can owe any money."

"My father—"

"No." Dorian reached for the file, opened it and began rifling through the pages. His eyes moved quickly over the documents. He wasn’t an accountant and he certainly didn’t enjoy numbers, but he knew enough to recognise when something was wrong.

More importantly, he knew something Naomi didn’t.

Raymond Bennett had not left his daughter with nothing.

Dorian’s jaw tightened as he scanned another page.

The documents looked legitimate.

"How much have you paid?"

"Three million give or take."

"And Whitmore has been the one handling all of these?"

"Yes. He handled the collectors, negotiated the payment schedules, told me what needed to be paid and when."

The amount near the bottom of the page caught his attention.

"Seven million?"

The shame washed over Naomi.

She felt herself retreating somewhere deep inside. Her shoulders drew in. Her fingers tightened against her lap. She closed her eyes because suddenly looking at him felt impossible.

"Naomi?" Dorian looked up from the file and saw her face.

The way she had folded into herself.

He realised how he must have sounded. His anger had never been directed at her.

Naomi hadn’t heard the difference.

"Baby?"