Ethan turned to me. “Go with Daniel to the security office. Stay there until I come for you.”
I stood straighter. “No.”
His eyes narrowed. “Ivy—”
“No,” I said again, surprising myself with the steadiness of my own voice. “I’m tired of being sent away whenever men have conversations about things that happened to me.”
Daniel looked at the floor.
Ethan stared at me.
A flush climbed my neck, but I did not look away.
“I don’t need to be in the room for everything,” I continued. “But don’t make decisions around me like I’m furniture.”
Something passed through his expression then. Not anger. Recognition.
“You’re right,” he said.
Two words.
Simple. Difficult.
He looked at Daniel. “Ask Julian to meet us in the blue sitting room.”
Daniel nodded.
My pulse quickened. “Us?”
Ethan’s gaze returned to mine. “Only if you choose.”
There it was again.
Choice.
I almost hated how unfamiliar it felt.
Ten minutes later, I sat in the blue sitting room beside a fireplace that had not been lit. The walls were covered in silk paper the color of storm clouds, and oil portraits watched us with old-money disapproval.
Ethan stood near the mantel.
Daniel waited by the door.
I sat on the sofa with my hands folded tightly in my lap, trying not to look as injured as I felt.
Julian Caldwell entered wearing yesterday’s tuxedo shirt beneath a velvet robe, his dark hair damp as though he had showered in a hurry. He was handsome in a softer way than Ethan, with easy eyes and the kind of smile that probably opened restaurants, clubs, and hearts.
The smile faded when he saw the room.
Then it vanished completely when he saw my face.
“What happened?” he asked.
Ethan’s voice was quiet. “That’s what we’re discussing.”
Julian looked from him to Daniel. “Why is security here?”
“Your guest code was used by Ryan Mercer at 2:41 this morning.”
Julian blinked. “Who?”
“Don’t perform,” Ethan said.
“I’m not performing. I know a Ryan from your staff, maybe. Driver? Tall? Always smells like cheap cologne?”
My stomach tightened. That was him.
Julian ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t give him anything.”
“Your code says otherwise.”
“Then someone stole it.”
“How?”
Julian looked offended. “I don’t know, Ethan. That’s generally the issue with theft.”
Ethan stepped closer. “A woman was hurt on my property after your code opened a gate.”
The room went still.
Julian looked at me again, really looked this time. His face drained of color.
“I didn’t know,” he said.
I believed his shock.
I did not know whether that mattered.
