Enemy Beloved

46 | in disguise

★

V A U G H N

I fucked up. I fucked up bad.

I rub my forehead between two fingers, massaging hard as I remember the events of last night in flashes. My leg aches for some reason and when I try hard to remember, I see visions of me climbing a tree.

A fucking tree to Claire's balcony.

What the hell is wrong with me? I literally behaved like a sixteen-year-old kid who just got his first hook-up. That wasn't me. But all I wanted to do then was reach Claire. Reach her no matter how far she was. My sanity was lost when I saw her face as she stood on the balcony. All I wanted to do was take her in my arms and kiss her hard. I wanted to forget for some time that she couldn't be with me, that I had to maintain an act.

I failed. I fucking failed.

I avoided going home after I woke up in the morning and instead came back to the office. Jake was surprised to see me in time and let me know that I had about six meetings to attend today, back to back. For some reason, all my clients are upset with me and I can see why. Every meeting ended with them finding faults in my work and the worst part is, I can't even blame them.

I haven't made progress in a single project in the past few days with everything going on and now they are asking for compensation if I don't meet their deadlines soon.

I feel so ashamed of myself. My work was once everything to me and I worshipped it but after Claire, everything seems to come second. My professional life is taking a toll and I have no valid reason to tell them why I am not sitting in the workroom now and drawing their project plans. I have already messed up two designs, leaving unfinished work for my team members. They weren't happy.

My cell on my desk rings and I look at it to see an unknown number as the caller ID. I lift the phone and squint my eyes at the screen. The location reads Geneva and after a few seconds of calming my nerves down, I receive the call.

"It's hard to get hands on your number, Mr. Jackson," Mattia Russo's voice chirps from the other end.

I pinch my eyes shut, letting out a frustrated groan. He is the last person I needed to hear from today. He is probably calling with some complaints too and if that is the case, then I am fucked. Theirs is a $100 million project. If I lose it during a time of crisis like this, it will be a huge loss for the company.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Russo," I greet him, a weak smile getting on my lips. "Any problem?"

"Major problems, Jackson." I hear laughter in the background followed by moans and guess that he is in some kind of an orgy party. He is rumored for throwing a number of them around the places he visits. "It's been a long time since the dinner with your wife. I have begun to wonder if you have dropped the deal. Haven't heard from you since."

I am snapped into alertness at that. "What do you mean you haven't heard?" I ask him. "My assistant informed me that you're dropping the deal and so he went there to meet you—"

"Your assistant? Is David Lucrezia back then? I thought he was on vacation."

What the fuck?

I straighten on my chair, placing an unsteady hand on my desk. "You haven't met my new assistant?" I swallow the lump in my throat as I wait for his answer.

"No."

My mind blocks out everything else. His one word sends chills down my spine and I suddenly start to put the events in synchrony.

Jake Gallagher was here the first night that man attacked Claire. He was gone the second time it happened and now I hear that he didn't go where he said he would.