James

She shrugged her slender shoulders elegantly. Then she leaned close to him, her hand touching his arm, lightly but intimately, like she used to do. He used to love it when she touched him. But after witnessing her touching another man, caressing his flesh and stroking his cock, it was quite different. Not this current guy. Another one. He couldn't remember who he was now. He'd been a blur to James during the accidental discovery. He just remembered feeling the shock and then the anger and disbelief that his wife was fucking another man in their house. Well, her house now.

A sting of disgust burned his arm where she still had her hand, and the urge to shove it away was strong.

"Don't you miss this?" she asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

Irritation surged stronger through his veins, and he couldn't stand it anymore. He propelled her off him and took a step back. "What are you doing?"

"I thought you missed me," she said, giving him that beautiful smile of hers that used to bring him to his knees. But not any longer. Now he only felt disgusted by it.

He folded his arms across his chest and chose the subject he needed to discuss with her most. "Are you planning on seeing Aria anytime soon?"

At the mention of their daughter, she became agitated. "Well, you know, it's better I don't see her… yet."

"For fuck's sake, Whitney, give your own daughter some of your time. It's been three years."

He hated to say the next sentence, because to be honest, he didn't want Aria to see Whitney, a mother who didn't give a shit about her own daughter. A mother who'd rather run off with a man she'd been fucking than stay with her own three-year-old, who cried and begged for her. But his heart hurt like hell when he saw Aria so wounded every time he told her Whitney wouldn't be able to come.

"She misses you."

Whitney frowned and snapped, "She was only three. She can't remember much of me."

Her words pissed him off. He had to take a deep breath to calm the wrath that was slowly building inside him.

"And soon she won't remember you at all if you don't make any effort to see her," he said coldly. He no longer wanted to be there, no longer wanted to be near the woman who had cheated on him—since the beginning of their relationship. He turned on his heel and walked away.

"James, wait!"

"Whitney," he said harshly over his shoulder, "get your life straightened out and then come and see our daughter once in a while."

Back in the ballroom where billionaires and millionaires mingled, James headed straight to his brothers.

"I'm leaving," he said.

Scott eyed the balcony James had just left and saw Whitney there. He understood. "Kiss Aria for me," he said.

"Me too," Eric chimed in. "And tell her I already miss her."

James laughed. The two were smitten with their niece, of course. Thank God, the little darling wasn't one bit like her mother, both in character and looks. Aria was a Maxwell through and through. She took after James in every possible way, and he loved her for that. Hell, he just loved her regardless. She was everything to him, and he knew she wouldn't disappoint him like her mother had, throwing away his love like she did her no-longer-desired shoes or dresses.

Fuck! Love was meant to be unconditional. A mutual feeling shared between two people, between husband and wife, that lasted 'til death do us part. Not something to be taken lightly and discarded without a second thought.

At the door, he glanced once more at Whitney and then left.

A sense of relief swept through him the moment he slid into the black Ferrari. Switching on the engine, the music blared into the confined space. Putting the gear on reverse, he whipped out of the parking space, then exited the Worthington estate.