Seven Nights of Sin (Penthouse Affair #2)

Chapter 39 Presley

This time, his rejection is like getting punched in the throat. I feel the lump form like a bruise and lodge itself in my trachea. I can’t speak. Can’t breathe.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice cutting through me like a cold wind.

“No,” I manage to croak. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He shakes his head, roughly rubbing his eyes with the heal of his hand.

“I do, though,” I say, my voice wobbling. “You told me not to fall in love with you. I did it anyway. I guess I’m not very good at following directions.”

Tears now falling freely from my eyes roll down both cheeks, and I quickly wipe them away. But I’m not ashamed. It feels so good to just say it out loud. I hadn’t imagined that I would ever get this far. I thought he would retreat before I got the chance to bare my soul like this. But I’m not hiding my truth any longer.

“I don’t have the capacity for love,” he says softly, his eyes downcast at the table in front of us.

“That’s stupid.”

He looks up at me in shock.

“I mean, for a CEO, you’re really dumb. You are capable of love. I’ve seen it in the way you take care of your daughters. And in the way that you look to Fran for help and advice when you need it most. I’ve seen it in the way that you work with Oliver. You trust him, more than anyone. I’ve seen it when you talk about your brother that you lost. I’ve seen it when you first gave me that promotion—”

Dominic opens his mouth to object.

“—and don’t pretend that was strictly professional. You care about me and my future. I saw it when I was with Emilia and Lacey, braiding their hair. I know you felt it.”

“Presley . . .”

is messy and imperfect. It isn’t that you aren’t capable of it. It’s that you’re overwhelmed

meaning behind the look in his eyes. I’ve way overstepped what is appropriate to say to one’s boss, but

keep working for you,” I blurt out. “If you can’t be with me in the way

right ones. There’s no way I can work alongside him now—this man who took my virginity, took my whole heart, and offered me nothing in return. If I’m going to pick up

our way. I’ve made a scene. This isn’t how I wanted to say it. I wanted

I won’t look at him. I must seem like an immature lovesick idiot to him, and I couldn’t bear to see myself through his

up, he’s placed his final card directly in front

he says, “I might be totally awful

feel the air shift between us. What’s

“I might be insensitive. I might not know when you’re hurting, or when you need me. I might need a

salts into a warm bath, easing the knot in my stomach and the

me tenderly

you,” he

keep doing this. This back-and-forth

the

“What are you saying?”

was unlovable. That I had too much baggage, and that no one would possibly

sadly. “That’s not even a little bit true, Dom.” I can’t help but think of his ex that discarded him and their babies

a deep breath, releasing

what I want.” I shrug, trying

I shouldn’t. But I’m selfish and I

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