A Tormented Heart

Ch 20: Heated Confrontations

This time the man was interrupted again. Albeit from a different source.

The door banged open, shocking everyone in the boardroom.

"Nicolas Freire! How dare you lie to me!"

-----

Nicolas supposed he shouldn't be surprised anymore. The girl was crazy. Completely crazy. She took inappropriate public behaviour to another level. The sheer number of times this sort of scene had happened in the short time he had known her should have been warning enough by now - in fact, he supposed he should have expected it by now.

But just because there was one utterly deranged lunatic in the room, didn't mean that Nic had to descend to the same level of lunacy. Face composed - despite his internal fury at the stupid, stupid girl - he turned his attention back to the men beside him.

"Gentlemen, I do believe we are done here. I will look forward to a positive response from you -"

A chorus of protest rose up at this. "Nicolas, please, you can't expect us to agree to this -"

Completely ignoring the pleas, he continued, "And you can contact my secretary for further details once you've signed the contract - " 

"Nicolas, let's think about this one more time - "

Cecilia stood, battling a multitude of emotions as the men completely ignored her and continued with their previous conversation. How dared he! How dared Nicolas Freire ignore her! Why, when she was done with him! 

But despite her rage and her embarrassment at being ignored, and the hurt at the thought that Nic would intentionally lie to her, there was another emotion that was creeping it's way into her heart and wrapping her in it's soothing warm. It seemed... suspiciously like... relie-

No. Cecilia stopped her thoughts there. Why should she feel that emotion for him?? All she felt for him was pure and utter contempt. Yes, she decided. A man like him, who would intentionally string someone along like that for nothing but his own amusement, deserved nothing more from her. He wasn't even worthy of hatred, because that would imply that he was someone worth hating. He was so far beneath that, that -

So wrapped in her seething thoughts, Cecilia didn't even notice the men filing out of the room, one by one, throwing her curious glances as they left. Until she realised, all of a sudden, that they were stood in a room - quite alone - and... Wait, was that the lock turning?! Why was the lock turning?!

"I told them to lock us from the outside." A cool voice spoke.

Cecilia whirled around to face the man that was the subject of her increasingly building rage.

"Tell them." she ordered through gritted teeth. "Tell them to open this door now, or-"

"Was that a threat?" Nic's lips curved in light amusement, as he perched on the edge of the boardroom table. "Do you think you're in the position to threaten me?"

"No, it was a warning. I never make threats I can't follow through on." Her eyes shot lasers. "And don't forget, Nicolas Freire, I may be temporarily working for you here but that doesn't change who I am. I am Cecilia Rose Knight, someone with immense power and connections. You would be wise not to take me lightly." She finished haughtily.

"What more could I have expected from someone like you?" Nic's voice hardened to stone, an ice cold hatred entering his eyes. Cecilia was momentarily shaken. What could she have done to deserve such hatred from him? What could anyone do to deserve such deep hatred from anyone? 

"The rich and spoilt heiress, who thinks the whole world is at her feet just waiting to do her bidding." Nic continued, a distinct sneer audible in his voice. "But she seems to forget that all of the power, wealth, status and connections she boasts of aren't actually hers to claim. That she did nothing to earn them, except enter into the right womb at the right time and be born into the right family. Tell me, Miss Knight," he taunted, "have you ever done anything yourself to claim the right to the power and connections of which you speak? Have you done anything in your life beyond throwing parties and then attending them?"

Shell-shocked at the hurtful words spewing from Nic's mouth, Cecilia just stood in stunned silence, unable to say a word as tears welled in her eyes and made silent tracks down her face.

Nic eyed them with undisguised contempt. "And there it is. The ever present weapon of women. Tears. What, did you think that no one would hold you accountable if you shed a few tears at them? That somehow your tears would wipe away the snobbery and condescension that are ingrained in your very blood? Don't worry, you don't need to pretend in front of me. I know exactly who you are."

Ashamed that he could reduce her to tears, Cecilia hastily wiped them away. She was ashamed at having shed them, and ashamed for having shed them in front of a man who seemed to hold them, and her, in nothing but utter contempt.

"The sooner you stop pretending to be someone you're not, the easier it will be for you. Pretending to be a kind, caring, loving friend to Sophia? A helping worker at my firm? Please." He mocked. "Why don't you do what you are no doubt used to doing? Sleeping all day and partying all night?"

Cecilia felt it was time to put a stop to this. "I can't change what you seem to believe about me." She said in a quiet voice. "In fact, it seems you don't even want to change your opinion or believe anything different. Fine. I won't bother you with any excuses or explanations. Think what you like." Nic shook his head, disgusted at her utter lack of shame. 

"But there was something I came here to ask you, and I want you to answer truthfully." She paused to take a breath. "Why did you lie to me about being in a relationship with Sophia?"

She almost missed it. The slight widening of his eyes, the rushed intake of air, the jerking of his body. It was only for a split second, before his face became impassive once again, his eyes cool and lightly mocking.

"And what gives you the idea that I am answerable to you?" He enquired, voice hard.

"Nicolas, please." She beseeched, searching his eyes. "I know there was a lot of assumption on my part. But you understood what I was saying. It would be in an insult to your intelligence, as well as mine, to claim that you hadn't. You could have cleared the misunderstanding at any time. Why didn't you?" She asked softly. "Why did you lie, Nic?"

"Don't call me that." Nic's voice pierced across the room and hit her like a shard. "You don't have the right." He stalked close, bending his head slightly to look her right in the eyes. "You want to know why I didn't tell you? Why I didn't clear the misunderstanding?" He said, eyes cruel. "Because you are nothing. You are nothing to me. I don't care whether you die or you live, whether you cry or laugh, whether you spend the rest of your life singing and dancing or paralysed in bed with a hundred broken bones. I don't care."

Numb, Cecilia stood like a puppet on strings unable to see or hear anything except for the terrible hatred in Nic's eyes, and wondered how she could have missed it. How could she not have seen how much Nic hated her?

"But there is one thing I do know: I never ever want to see your face again." He straightened, walking towards the door and unlocking it with a key from his trouser pocket. He pulled the door wide open.

"Get the hell out of my building."