by Ebony Olson
Warren stood up from where he, Alex, and Zander were talking and saw the look on Darius’ face. His smile disappeared instantly. He came over, Alex and Zander in tow. "What is it, Boss?"
"Today was a mistake..."
"No." I shook my head and grabbed his arm to try and force him to look at me. "Dare, please?"
"John Hicks will send over the papers for the annulment. I will be flying out this afternoon so I will sign them when I get back next week. Organize with Steffen to pack Mora's things and have them delivered to her father's house."
"Boss?" Warren stood, shocked.
"What the hell is going on?" Alex waded into the fray, just as confused. "Dad, what did you do?"
"Just do it, Warren!" Darius went to turn away from the group.
"No!" I yelled at him. "You look at me. Look into my eyes, Dare, and tell me we are over."
"Mora." Marshall put a restraining hand on my shoulder as I tried to force Darius to face me.
I shrugged my dad's hand off and dug my fingers into Darius’ forearm. Cello players have strong fingers; aerialists’ are even stronger. Even through his suit jacket, I knew my grip was hard enough to bruise. "Look at me!"
Darius swung around and grabbed my shoulders, his face angry as he met my eyes. "You should have told me who your father was, Mora. This is your fault. I would never have touched you had I known. Now get the hell out of my life!"
I stepped back from him, my hand covering my mouth to hold in the scream of pure anguish I felt burning up in my throat.
"Dare, what are you doing?" Zander demanded, his arm catching my back to stop me stumbling.
Darius stood there, eyes full of fury as he watched me. I couldn't bear to have him look at me like that anymore. I needed to get out of there. How did it go from being the happiest day of my life to the absolute worst? My eyes flicked to my father; he couldn't look at me.
Turning away and escaping Zander's hold, I ran to the doors. Only five minutes before, my father had come through these same doors and destroyed my happiness.
"You son of a bitch," Alex growled.
I heard the punch, the crash of someone falling, and the sound of a brawl starting, but I didn't turn to see what happened.
"Alex, stop," Marshall yelled.
I ran out of Darius’ life like he asked, the sounds of chaos following me out into the parking lot. Clark was standing out there talking to my dad's driver. I ran down the steps to the cars, and Clark stepped toward me immediately.
"Mrs. Rafal?"
I froze instantly. I looked at Clark, barely holding in the tears. "Blake. My name is Miss Mora Blake. I took my mother's name when I moved here so that people wouldn't want to know me because of who my father is."
Clark watched me, worry filling his features. I had to admit it, to say out loud what I'd hidden for six years; to confess my part in destroying my own happiness.
"My father is Marshall Blake, and Darius Rafal is going to annul our marriage because I am Marshall Blake's daughter. How is that for irony, Clark?"
Clark swallowed. "Can I take you somewhere, Miss Blake?"
"Can you take me back eight months so I can tell Darius Rafal to stick his job up his ass?" I pleaded.
Clark opened the car door. "No, Miss Blake, but I have a full tank of petrol, a mini fridge full of liquor, and a warm car."
I nodded and slid into the back of the limousine Darius hired for the day. Clark hopped behind the wheel and drove me out of Darius’ life, as requested.
We drove for two hours and I cried for a lot of it. About an hour into the drive, I looked down at my dress and wanted to rip it to shreds. I couldn't breathe, and I felt like the dress was suffocating me. I yanked the zip down and wrestled myself out of it, crying uncontrollably as I did so.
I stamped the beautiful garment into the floor of the car, angrily. I yelled and screamed at it for breaking my heart, for making me stupid enough to ever think someone would want me, or love me enough to fight for me. When I couldn't fight the pool of material anymore, I curled myself into a ball on the seat and sobbed into my hair, which wrapped around me like a blanket.
I heard Clark's cell phone ring several times during the drive. Eventually, the car stopped. Clark opened the back door and handed his jacket to me. I looked at it, confused, then remembered that I was huddled there in just my knickers and stay-up stockings. I took the jacket, slipped myself into it, and buttoned it closed to cover my nakedness. I let Clark take my hand to help me out of the car. He was parked outside a tidy apartment building.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"My place. Just south of the Thames," Clark informed me, holding up a key. "I have to get the car back if I'm going to keep my job, and I do like my job, Miss Blake."
I nodded understandingly.
"You can crash here as long as you like. No one will think to look for you here so you don't need to be disturbed if you don't want to be. I'm rarely here, so make yourself comfortable." Clark took my hand, wrapping it around the key. "If you want to shower and change then grab a pair of my sweats and a shirt. I'll get some of your stuff from Steffen." Clark looked at the wedding dress crumpled on the floor. "What do you want to do with that?"
"I really don't care, Clark. He paid for it; he can have it."
Clark smirked. "I'll make sure he gets it."
I watched Clark drive away then made my way inside. It was a quaint and tidy apartment. Either Clark was an extraordinarily clean man, or he wasn't lying about spending very little time at home. Considering the hours I knew he worked for Darius, I didn't doubt it was the latter. Thinking about Darius made me double over. I sucked in a deep breath and sobbed my way to the bathroom. I showered, found a shirt from Clark's drawer, and curled up under a blanket on his couch.
I cried until my eyes hurt and my throat was raw. I drank a fair amount of Clark's vodka straight from the bottle. Then I slept.
Clark was making coffee when I woke up. He was freshly showered and dressed in sweats as he moved around his kitchen. I sat up and noticed sunlight coming through the window. The clock showed I'd slept through the night and it was Monday morning. My life had fallen apart but the sun still came up the next day, as if nothing happened.
"Morning." Clark set a mug in front of me. "I know you aren't a coffee drinker, so I made you a hot chocolate instead."
"Thanks. Shouldn't you be at work?"
Clark shook his head. "Boss flew out last night. Won't be back until next Monday now. I get the week off, unless Warren calls me in, which he will." Clark sat down next to me in the living room. "Have you given any thought to what you are going to do now?"
I took a deep breath. "What do you mean?"
"Mora, you worked with him and lived with him. Even after you quit your job and got romantically involved with him, that was your home. Now you are jobless and homeless."
"You forgot ‘loveless.’"
"I was trying not to rub salt in the wound," Clark muttered. "My point is, you gave everything up for him and now that he's..." Clark hesitated.
"Given me up?" I finished for him. "You can say it, Clark, I'm not totally fragile. Hurt, yes, but I'm not going to break."
"He's gone for the week, Mora. That gives you time to look at all your options."
"Thank you, Clark."
Chapter Nine
"Are you okay?" Alex immediately asked when he answered my long-awaited call two days later. Clark had picked up my belongings from Steffen and taken a few items back to his apartment before delivering the rest of it to Marshall's.
"I will be. How about you?"
"Black eye and a fat lip." Alex took a deep breath, "Where are you?"
"It doesn't matter. I'm coming home today."
"Dad's been frantic, Mora. Call him and let him know you're safe, please?"
"I don't know if I'm ready to talk to him yet, Alex," I admitted.
"I know, Mora, and I am plenty pissed about what went down, but can you please just talk to him. Let him explain?" Alex begged.
"I'll see. Either way, I'll be back under his roof tonight. I need my cello."
"It's there," Alex sighed. "I’ll come over after work and see you."
"Okay." I hung up the phone and looked at Clark.
"Ready to go?" he asked. I nodded. Clark stood up and picked up the small bag containing my possessions then led me out to the Rolls Royce.
Clark drove me to Chelsea where my father's house was, on Flood Street. I thanked him with a hug and then said goodbye. He was Darius’ employee; I'd likely never see him again.
As soon as I was inside, I found my cello and sat down to release all the remaining pain and hurt. I was still playing when Marshall came home. I set the cello aside and stood up to face him.
"I don't want to hear this from you," I told him straight out, "but the man who should be explaining this to me has washed his hands of me."
Clark told me of Darius’ edict, banning me from contacting him when he got home last night. Tears pricked behind my eyes as I met my father's matching topaz gaze. "Can you explain why the man I love, who I know loves me, dumped me without a second thought on our wedding day?" I asked politely.
Marshall took a deep breath and sat on the sofa, patting the cushion beside him. I took the seat and waited.
"When I was in college, I was approached by my mentor, Jacob Callow. He told me that he would support my business by throwing work my way, and that he could ensure my business did well for the rest of my life. All I had to do was join a secret society." Marshall fidgeted. "What I'm about to tell you, you should never have known, but you know some of it already, and I think you need to know the rest.
"They are called the Fehu Brotherhood. It has been around for a long time now. There are only ever thirteen members and we are only members until we retire from our companies. Our ages span from twenty-four years to sixty-nine. " Marshall took a breath. "Every member has had a poor upbringing and worked hard to make something of themselves. I was recruited at college from my scholarship program. I recruited Darius while he was studying his MBA. We mentor a lot of others, but only those who really have the potential to change their lives, and the lives of their families, are invited to be members.
"The brotherhood stands for wealth, personal power, and the circulation of power, financial strength, and prosperity. Our ideal is to support those who show great potential and to make sure they realize that potential. We don't believe wealth and power should be inherited and reserved for the select few. We heavily support scholarships at universities to give new opportunities to those born into a class usually prevented from seeking higher education. We offer internships to mentor those with real potential. Our motto is 'be better than you were born to be.' We do good things, Mora.
"There are very strict rules. Love is considered the most valued commodity in the Fehu brotherhood. As such, if you find love, and if you marry, your wife becomes your repayment for the support of your brothers."
"Why the wives?" I asked.
"People born into poverty are possessive when it comes to their belongings and especially their wealth," Marshall explained. "Part of membership is to share your wealth by supporting others. It is a man’s club and we are very possessive of the women we love. Since our wives are the one possession that cannot be shared for the benefit of those we wish to help, they become our pound of flesh to repay the support of our brothers." Marshall reached across and took my hand in his. "I am Darius’ mentor. I would be the first person he would have to share his wife with, Mora."
I felt my eyes bulge at the idea.
Marshall squeezed my hand. "Which is exactly why the ‘black mark’ rule exists. Relationships with our brothers’ family members are strictly forbidden to prevent this issue."
I stood up. "Couldn't he leave the brotherhood? I mean, you don't kill someone for trying to leave, do you?"
"No." Marshall watched me start pacing the room. "Darius can only leave by returning what was given to him. This happens one of two ways: Darius could sign his company over to me or we would destroy him financially."
I stared at my father. "Darius gave me up for his company?"
Marshall glared at me. "Darius came from nothing, Mora. He worked damn hard to finish school, to get a scholarship, and to start his own business. He gave everything to get where he is today, and he loves his business. He has known you six months. Why on earth would you think he would give up his world for you?"
"Because I love him and he loves me." I scowled back. "Love should be enough."
Marshall stood up. "Wake up, Mora. Love has never been enough. Love doesn't put food on the table for your hungry children. Love doesn't put a roof over your head or pay the bills. Love keeps your bed warm at night, but you can pay for that service, too."
I flinched at his harshness, my eyes filling with tears.
Marshall exhaled loudly and took my hands in his. "You crave love and desire it more than anything, Mora, because it was the one thing you were denied as a child. Darius was loved by his family, but he knows the reality of going to bed with an empty stomach, shivering in a bed with your siblings because you can't afford to heat your house in the dead of winter. Darius has lived that reality, Mora. He will not subject himself or his family to that existence ever again."
I was crying again. I sucked in a deep breath and met my father's eyes. "He didn't even consider fighting for me, Dad. You told him he couldn't have me, and he threw me away without a second thought."
"I know, Mora. Neither of you are to blame here. I should have declared who you were the moment you arrived in London. I will remedy that mistake now." Marshall pulled me into a hug as I balled my eyes out on his shoulder.
"It's already too late," I sobbed.
Marshall pressed his hand to the back of my head and held me tighter. "I am so very sorry, Mora. I tried to call to stop the wedding as soon as Tabitha told me. I called you, Alex, Darius, and Warren. No one answered their phone, and by the time Alex did, it was too late."
"Oh, Dad." I pushed away from him. "It was too late before the wedding. It was too late six years ago when I went home with him the night we first met." I watched my father's eyes widen. "It was always him, Dad. From the moment he said hello to me. It was always Darius Rafal."
"There was Jasper, Mora. There will be others," Marshall tried to assure me.
I shook my head. "No, there won't be, Dad. I know you think I'm young and don't know what I'm talking about, but I know he was the one. I will never feel for another man the way I do Darius. You've taken that away from me. That's what you have to live with."
I turned and walked out of the room, retreating to my bedroom where I cried myself to sleep for the third night running. I knew the pain would ease one day. I also knew that wasn't going to be any day soon.
***
"Mora." Sophie sat on the side of my bed and swept the hair back from my face. "Come on, honey. It has been a week and a half. You skipped through the first three stages of grief and got stuck in number four: depression. It's time to move on to acceptance."
"Is this what it was like when Alex ended it with you?" I asked, staring at the light outside my bedroom window. How dare the sun shine when life was so miserable?
"The pain? Yes. I actually grieved properly though. My fight with you was my denial. I had a lot of anger after that. I bypassed bargaining and depression and finally reached acceptance some months later." Sophie sighed, resting her forehead on the side of my head so her mouth was at my ear. "It does get easier, Mora."
"How?"
Sophie sat up. "Well, I got drunk, a lot. I danced most nights until my feet hurt, and I paid a guy to fuck my brains out until I forgot about Alex's big dick and his magical tongue."
"Too much information about my brother," I groaned and pulled a pillow over my head.
Sophie chuckled, pulling the pillow away. "The point is, it worked. Well, mostly. Your wedding was hard. It was the first time I had seen Alex since we broke up, but it actually wasn't as uncomfo
rtable as I thought it would be."
I winced at the mention of the wedding.
"Sorry." Sophie squeezed my arm. "You need to accept it happened, Mora, and let it go. You are too young to marry anyway. There are clubs to dance at, men to sleep with, and much more fun to be had before you settle down with some boring bastard." Sophie gave me a wicked smile. "And there are plenty of bastards in this city for you to choose from. Get out of bed, have a shower, and let's go out somewhere, anywhere, it’s your choice."
"The chemist," I murmured.
Sophie frowned. "Um, okay. Not my first choice. What do you need at the chemist?"
I sat up and met Sophie's eyes. "A pregnancy test. My period was due five days ago."
The blood drained from Sophie's face. Her mouth moved but she failed to form words. Sophie stood up and paced across the room. "Okay. New plan. I will go to the chemist while you shower. You can do the test and if it is positive I will take you to my doctor and you can discuss your options."
"Options?" I asked, confused.
Sophie nodded. "Yes, options. This is the twenty-first century. You have a choice now."
I opened my mouth to argue but Sophie cut me off.
"Mora, he's cut you off. It’s been nearly two weeks and he has not tried to contact you even once. If you have a baby now, you will be doing it by yourself. You will be in the same situation your mom was in: twenty-three, pregnant to your former boss, a man you now hate, and alone." Sophie sat back on the bed. "Honey, you do not want to be in that situation."
The accuracy of her words hit me like a freight train. My chest felt tight, and I found it hard to breathe.
"Whoa." Sophie's eyes popped open as I started to hyperventilate. "Okay, I might have hit you too hard with that one, Mora. Calm down. We do not even know if you are pregnant yet. Just take a deep breath."
I let Sophie talk me through my breathing until my heart rate had slowed down and I could sit up straight again.
"Are you alright?" Sophie asked, rubbing my back. I nodded. "Good. I'm going to run down to the chemist. You are going to have a shower and we can discuss what we do this afternoon, after we have a result." I nodded again. Sophie got up and left.
