She’d been standing at the door to the upstairs office for a few minutes, merely watching him as he sat at the thick oak table, a laptop in front of him. He was lost in thought, not having moved since she’d found his hiding place. His eyes barely blinked as he stared at the screen reflecting its glow back on his handsome face.

“Not tonight.” His voice was low, barely reaching her ears.

“Why not? I’d like to see it.” She stepped forward, entering the room. He was entirely perfect—his face clean-shaven, his hair styled as usual, his suit flawless. He’d recovered from his misstep on Thursday and was now taking the divorce in stride, when even breathing seemed hard for her. “Brute said he’d be happy to show me around.”

His gaze gradually rose to meet hers, his eyes dark with anger. “This isn’t up for negotiation.”

She scoffed. Who was this man? He’d dictated the terms of their divorce, and even though they were largely made in her favor, she still resented his inability to discuss any of it with her first. Now he was telling her where she could and couldn’t go?

“You’re right.” She kept her tone light, unwilling to let the frustration, pain, anger and grief take over. “I am going down there. It isn’t up for negot—”

His chair shot back, the rough scrape along the wooden floorboards sending her heart into a rapid beat as he loomed over the desk. “Don’t push me, Cassie.” He strode for her, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. “I’ve said no.”

She was scared—that she was pushing him away instead of tugging him forward. That he was beginning to hate her instead of realizing how much he loved her. That the plan was going in the opposite direction and she was digging her own grave. But his anger was far more appealing than his disregard for her existence.

“Why are you against me going down there? That part of the club isn’t even open tonight. It’s vacant. It’s not like I’m married and overseeing a sex club without the presence of my partner.”

His jaw clenched, his fists too. “You said you didn’t have a problem with me working down there.”

“And I didn’t.” Not until he’d blindsided her with the end of their marriage. “So you have no right to say I can’t go down there when it’s currently unoccupied. When I can’t even witness all those images you teased me with. Or experience all the pleasure you once promised. I’m going down there, T.J., whether you like it or not.” The more he refused, the more she wanted to push him, hoping he’d break.

“Not now, Cassie.”

The way he said her name, the raw savagery, made her throat constrict with sorrow. “Then when?”

Anguish flickered across his features, telling her there would never be a good time. She didn’t know what his problem was. It was an empty sex club. Why was he adamant she couldn’t enter the sacred walls? Could it be guilt? More misplaced protection? Or did he want to claim the club as his own, trying to keep the taint of his wife out of the sordid area so he could move on easier?

“I don’t know.”

She gave a sad smile and shrugged. “Well, I think now is the perfect time. And I’m sure I don’t need to remind you I’m still part owner, so your permission isn’t necessary.” She turned and sauntered the few steps to the door. “I’ll be going down there with Brute as soon as the private party is finished.”

As she reached the threshold, he still hadn’t responded, breaking her heart all over again because he’d stopped fighting so easily. He didn’t make sense to her anymore. She couldn’t read him. Couldn’t predict his thoughts or actions, when once his love had been a reliable strength she could always count on.

She hung her head and entered the hall. No tears formed even though pain consumed her. She was all cried out. She was past waterworks. Tears didn’t fix anything. People did. She did. So why the heck couldn’t she figure out the man she knew better than she knew herself?

“Cass…”

She froze, straightening her shoulders as the muted thump of the downstairs music throbbed around her.

“Don’t do this to me,” he pleaded. “I’ve given you the car, the house, the dog. Leave me the Vault. Just give me this one thing.”

Her throat tightened, the beat of her heart increasing until the rhythmic pounding became painful. “Don’t do this to you?” She swung around, hoping the fury in her veins matched the expression on her face. “How dare you? You break my heart, turn my life upside down and expect me to do you favors? And over the same type of establishment that destroyed our marriage? Christ, T.J. Who the hell are you?”

He stood in the doorway, unable to meet her gaze as he opened his mouth to speak.

“No.” She raised a hand, cutting him off. “Forget it. I’m going downstairs with Brute. You can have your damn club once the divorce is final. Until then, you better get used to me going wherever the hell I like.”

Instead of fighting like she anticipated, he stepped backward, disappearing into the office and closing the door behind him.

Damn him.

The more they fought, the more she questioned what she was doing. His unfamiliar actions were making her second-guess the marriage they’d once had. Second-guess T.J. in general. Previously, she’d thought he could never taint the memories she had. Now, she wasn’t so sure. He was dampening everything. Their love. Their happiness.

Shay was wrong. Being close to him hadn’t given her the upper hand. It had resulted in the opposite. Because now she was beginning to believe the divorce may be exactly what they needed. Maybe they were better off alone.

Chapter Twelve

Cassie finished stocking bottles of wine into the fridge under the bar and moved to her feet. Shay and Leo were escorting the last of the private party toward the club entrance, while Brute was beside her, clearing away dirty glasses along the counter.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

He didn’t glance her way, didn’t quit stacking glasses in a long tower to rest against his chest. “Where’s T.J.?”

“Still upstairs.”

He nodded and continued stacking. “We’ll wait a minute.”

Cassie frowned. “He’s not coming, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

He cleaned the bar as he went, stacked glasses in one hand, damp cloth in the other, until he reached the dishwasher.

“Do you need a hand?”

“Nope. Leo and Shay can finish up when they come back. I’m just waiting for a minute.”

“What are you waiting…” Her words trailed off as a thud sounded upstairs, then the heavy rhythmic pounding of angered footsteps.

“For that,” Brute muttered. “Let’s go.” He closed the dishwasher and stalked around the bar, leading her toward the locked door at the far side of the club.

“Wait,” T.J.’s shout shot down her spine, all the way to her toes.

Brute didn’t pause, didn’t even glance over his shoulder, so neither did she. T.J. wasn’t going to stop her. This was her last hurrah. The final push until she walked away forever.

She sucked in deep breath after deep breath, calming herself as Brute unlocked the heavy padlock securing the entry to the staircase leading to the Vault of Sin.

“Wait,” T.J. growled. “I’m coming too.”

Her head snapped around, her eyes greedily eating up the sight of her husband as he strode toward them. He was furious. All that anger and animosity directed right at her. If he was trying to intimidate her, he was failing miserably. Her body had the opposite reaction. Her nipples were pulsing, her throat tight, lips dry.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Her naïve heart fluttered. Her mind knew his acquiescence didn’t mean a thing. It was merely a control measure. But anticipation filled her anyway. This was the first and maybe the last time she’d walk down these stairs with him. What once had been a fantasy was now a broken reality, and she’d take it nonetheless.