Greek's Last Redemption by Caitlin Crews

understood she wasn’t being fair. That none of this was fair and that, worse, she’d put all of this in motion herself when she’d told that first lie. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
    â€œYou never wanted a divorce,” she said helplessly after a moment, when the buzzing in her ears stopped making her feel dizzy. “I suppose I thought...”
    She shouldn’t have said that, and Holly wasn’t surprised when he seemed to rebound into a greater rage right there before her, his dark face taut and furious, his eyes blazing.
    â€œThat this was some kind of sick flirtation across whole years?” His voice was scathing. “That even though I believed that you’d cuckolded me, I still hoped to win you back with open access to my bank account and my otherwise complete and total indifference?”
    â€œYou’re the one who taught me how to play these games, Theo!” she hurled at him wildly, and she didn’t have it in her to worry about what was
fair
. Maybe it was that word he’d used:
indifference
. Because that was what she’d seen in the lobby of The Chatsfield, and that was the end of everything. She knew that. “You could have come after me but you chose to throw money at me instead. Don’t you dare stand here and accuse me of ruining our marriage when you did nothing to save it. When you no doubt rejoiced the moment I left!”
    â€œEnough.”
    She’d never heard that tone from him before. Abrupt and powerful, reminding her who he’d become in these past years. The heights he’d climbed in his father’s company and how like the old man he’d become along the way. It was only then she realized she was shaking again, and not from the temperature. She rubbed her hands up and down her own arms and his mouth tightened.
    â€œTheo...”
    But Holly didn’t know what she meant to say and it didn’t matter, because he was already shaking his head.
    â€œI said enough.” He closed the distance between them and took hold of her arm, and she automatically pulled against it, letting out a surprised sort of sound when his fingers only tightened. “Walk or be dragged,
agapi mou
.” It was nearly a snarl, and she felt it like a slap. Or perhaps a kick. “In the mood I am in right now, I do not much care which.”
    Holly walked.
    Theo kept a tight hold of her, and she told herself it didn’t matter. It didn’t make a difference that he had put those beautiful, gorgeous hands of his on countless other women, possibly even tonight before she’d found him. That he knew about places like that alcove because he’d used them, obviously, and not only with her.
    That made her feel sick, it was true. And yet the pit in her stomach that yawned open wider with every step wasn’t about that, not really.
    This was her fault.
No matter what she threw at him, she knew that. She had done this, no one else. She had remembered so vividly what her mother’s departure had done to her father, how it had broken him but made him unwilling to go after her in all the years that followed out on that lonely little ranch, and she’d used it. She’d claimed the same sin and gotten the same reaction in response.
She’d done this.
    But knowing that only seemed to make things worse. Or maybe it just made her hate herself. She could hardly tell the difference any longer, and his fingers wrapped tight around her upper arm didn’t help.
    â€œI can take a taxi,” she told him when she realized Theo was striding toward his car and the uniformed driver who beckoned from a spot down the street, but nearly swallowed her own tongue when he turned a savage glare upon her.
    It seemed smarter to get in the car. And then to tell his driver where she was staying when asked, because that would be faster than fighting about it or trying to conceal it.
    â€œTheo,” she started again when the car glided