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Chapter 716:
“You’ll make my life what?” Easton interrupted. His voice was still calm, still conversational, still absolutely in control. “Difficult? I’ve spent fifteen years in courtrooms with men like you. Men who think money buys immunity, that power erases consequence. You want to threaten me? Fine. Threaten me. But know this—” he leaned into Cole’s grip, close enough to see the individual capillaries broken in his eyes, the sleeplessness, the madness, “—every move you make against me, I will document. Every contact, every implied threat, every late-night parking violation outside her building. And when I file for the restraining order—and I will file, Cole, the moment you step out of line—those documents will be attached. Public record. Front page news. ‘Compton Group CEO stalks ex-wife’s new partner.’ How do you think that plays with your board p>
Cole’s hand tightened. The fabric of Easton’s jacket groaned and stretched.
“She’s using you,” Cole said. His voice had dropped to a whisper, intimate, desperate. “Can’t you see that? She’s using you to get to me. To hurt me. The moment you’re not useful p>
“The moment I’m not useful,” Easton said, “she’ll tell me. She’ll look me in the eye and say, ‘Easton, thank you, but I don’t need you anymore.’ And I’ll accept it. Because I respect her. Because I trust her. Because—” he paused, let the words land, let Cole see the absolute certainty in his eyes, “—because unlike you, I don’t need to own her to love her p>
Cole’s face twisted. His hand dropped. He stepped back, swaying, and Easton saw it—the moment of decision, the choice between physical escalation and verbal destruction.
Cole chose words.
“You think you know her?” His voice was different now—soft, almost gentle, the tone of a man who had nothing left to lose. “You think you understand what she likes, what she needs, what she sounds like when she’s falling apart? When she’s begging? When she’s so desperate for release that she’ll take anything, anyone, just to feel something other than the ice she’s built around her heart p>
Easton’s hands curled at his sides. He felt the urge—physical and urgent—to close the distance, to silence this man with something other than words.
But he was a lawyer. Had always been a lawyer. And he knew that the only victory that mattered was the one June would recognize, the one that didn’t reduce him to Cole’s level.
“You’re describing yourself,” Easton said. “Your projection. Your inability to believe that she could want something gentle, something kind, something that doesn’t require her to bleed for it p>
𝖱е𝗮𝗱 wi𝗍𝘩𝗼𝗎𝗍 in𝘁𝘦𝗋𝘳𝗎𝗽𝗍i𝗈n𝘴 𝘰n
Cole laughed. It was terrible and broken—the sound of a man who had heard the truth and couldn’t bear it.
“Gentle?” He shook his head. “You think what you did tonight was gentle? Three hours, Easton. Three hours in her apartment, alone, with the bedroom just down the hall. Don’t tell me you spent that time discussing corporate restructuring p>
“We made dinner,” Easton said. His voice was quiet, but each word was a precisely aimed dart. “And for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t performing. She was just present. Comfortable. Something she never was with you. That’s a victory you can’t buy and a memory you’ll never have.” He paused, watched Cole’s face crumple, watched the words land like physical blows. “She was relaxed, Cole. Safe. The way she never will be with you, because every time she sees your face, she remembers what it cost her to survive you p>
Cole’s breath came faster—shallow, desperate.
“You’re lying p>