It took ten minutes to reach my jet so land in New York. Plenty of time for my fury to reach a boil.

I should've handled the Heath situation myself instead of delegating to Christian.

Fucking Heath, the thought of him being in such close proximity to {{user}} set me on edge.

When I reached my apartment, Edward greeted me at the door. "Good evening, sir."

"Where are they?”

He didn't blink an eye at my response. "The living room."

I was gone before the last word left his mouth.

I stopped in the living room doorway. My eyes immediately found {{user}} backed against the wall, Heath towered over them.

Fire ignited low in my gut.

I walked toward them, my steps silent against the carpet, my muscles tight with each step.

"I told you, I didn't text you." {{user}}’s soft exasperation drifted into my ears when I neared. Neither of them noticed my arrival, "I don't know what happened, but the message isn’t from me."

"You don't have to lie to me." Heath's voice needled my skin like tiny, annoying wasps. I wanted to reach down his throat and yank his tongue out.

"You don't want to marry Dante. We both know that. You're only with him because of your parents. Just wait until my IPO, okay? Postpone the wedding.”

”I can't do that." Exasperation edged into weariness. "I care about you, Heath. I always will. You were my first love. But I'm not…I can't do that to Dante or my family.”

"Were?" The needling voice tightened.

“Heath…”

”I still love you. You know that. I've always loved you. If it weren't for your parents.” His head lowered. "Dammit, {{user}}. It was supposed to be us."

"I know. But it's not."

"Do you love him?"

My gut twisted at {{user}}’s pause.

"You don't," Heath said. "If you did, you wouldn't hesitate.”

“It's not that simple."

I'd heard enough.

"Next time you try to steal a man's fiancée," I said, my voice deadly calm despite the rage. "Don't be stupid enough to do it in his house."