by K. I. Lynn
And I created the situation that destroyed my peace. It was a type of change I abhorred, but one I would have to get used to, because she wasn’t going anywhere. The getting used to part was difficult. Her small line of questioning had me at wits’ end, and I’d snapped.
Small fingers snapped in front of my face, and I blinked to find Holly standing in front of me with a steaming mug.
“You okay?”
“Did I make a mistake?” I asked, my brow furrowed.
She leaned against my desk, the mug cupped between her hands as she took a sip. “Ruined things already?”
I sat back. “I don’t think so.”
“Do I think, maybe for the first time in all the years I’ve known you, you did something very spontaneous and very un-Atticus like with the whole not-thinking-it-through thing? Yeah.”
“I thought it through,” I argued.
She shook her head. “You thought the contract details through. You didn’t think about having a living, breathing person now connected to you at the hip, and I’m not talking about a baby. I’m talking about that poor girl who has no clue what she’s agreed to, thrust into a world she knows nothing of, with a man who she doesn’t know.”
“Nobody knows me.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Go away,” I said with a sigh.
She set the cup she’d been sipping from down in front of me. “Here, I’ll share.”
I quirked a brow at her. I didn’t share anything, let alone a half-drunk cup of coffee.
“It’s Becca’s special blend.”
Or maybe I did. “Why don’t you just finish that one and get me a fresh cup? Since it’s obvious you brewed it here.”
“Is it?” she asked in that conspiring tone of hers.
“Why do I pay you to be a thorn in my side?”
“We’ve discussed this a dozen times. Someone with your sharp memory should know the answer to that.”
“Out. And bring me back a cup.”
“Aye, aye, Capitano. Oh, by the way, Rhys called.”
My brow scrunched as I glanced to my phone. “I have no missed calls.”
She shook her head. “You’ve been ignoring a lot of people the last few weeks. He set up a lunch.”
A sigh left me. “Fine.”
She laughed. “You’re a reclusive billionaire, Atticus. It’s not hard to figure out what you’re thinking when it comes to social interaction.”
“I have not hit recluse status.”
“Yet.”
“Yet,” I grumbled.
She wasn’t wrong. Especially since the will reading, I’d avoided everyone and everything I could.
Once-friends from school were now acquaintances after years of little to no interaction. Friends were one of the few luxuries I couldn’t afford.
Holly was one to take me by surprise. She was like a dog with a bone when we met in college, unrelenting in her quest to get to know me. Due to my upbringing, I initially thought it was because she wanted something, but that wasn’t the case. She was just an exuberant person. One who could see how lonely I was and forcibly inserted herself into my personal space, despite how much I detested it.
Eventually she broke me down, proclaimed herself my best friend, and she’d stayed beside me ever since. I paid her well to put up with me every day.
The day was filled with meetings and financial reports. Growth was slowing down, which my father attributed to the failure of my brother and I to marry someone of affluence. Still, the company was doing well. The goal was to keep it that way, to prove I didn’t need to marry some hotel heiress to keep de Loughrey the leader in multiple markets.
Expansion plans for the future were in the works, but they took time and a great amount of planning.
It was after lunch when my door opened. Holly could be heard protesting, but Hamilton couldn’t care less as he slammed the door in her face.
“You should apologize when we’re done,” I said. Holly and Hamilton had never gotten along because she didn’t let him walk all over her because of his name, while Hamilton wasn’t accustomed to rejection, even if the woman he approached was a lesbian.
“What the hell are you up to with the girl?” Hamilton asked as he sat across from me. Per usual, he wasted no time getting to the point.
“It’s just a business proposition.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
I swore that the vein in my forehead twitched. Why did every conversation with him end up in an argument? “I don’t care what you think. I’m not agreeing to an arranged marriage.”
“Fine, asshole, but when this goes sideways, don’t come looking for me to fix it.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “When have you ever fixed anything for me? When has anyone? I’m the one who makes the hard decisions to protect this family.”
“Always taking the high and mighty road.”
“Do you want to do this shit?” I snarled. “I’ll gladly let you take over cleaning up Gen’s messes. That alone will keep you busy and give you some taste of the shit I deal with daily. Running a company is easy compared to running this family of spoiled fuckups.”
Even though the role had only officially been mine for a little less than a month, I’d been helping orchestrate the family for years in preparation. Only me. No one else was subjected to every dirty secret the de Loughreys held.
“I’m just wondering why you brought in some strange girl, and how it is any different from that girl Father picked.”
“The difference is I know what it feels like to be between her thighs, and I like it.” And I’d done nothing but fucking fantasize about it for nearly a year.
Hamilton let out a sigh. “This is risky. How are you doing this?”
“She moved into one of my extra bedrooms yesterday. Right now, the goal is to get her primed for the family dinner.”
“Is she a good actress? Or are you going to show the family what it really is?”
His barrage of questions were irritating. “The only way I’m getting him off my back is if he thinks there are emotions, and even then, I’m unsure.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, brother.”
“It’ll either be a spectacular idea, or a spectacular explosion. Only time will tell.”
“Are you going to tell me who she is?” he asked.
I furrowed my brow as I stared at him. “Who she is?”
“Yes. What is she bringing in?”
I blinked at my brother. He understood when he saw her yesterday that she was the woman I’d chosen, but he hadn’t picked up on her penniless state?
“Nothing.”
He balked at me, eyes wide as he moved to the edge of his chair. “Nothing? What the hell do you mean, nothing?”
“I mean, up until yesterday she was a waitress living in a studio apartment in Brooklyn.”
“Are you mad?” he asked, an incredulous edge to his tone.
“Who I picked is of no concern to you, Hamilton. She is to be my wife,” I ground out.
“Then you better perfect that love act, brother, because he will see the cracks and pounce. Sink his teeth in until he rips her from you.”
I ground my teeth together. “I will not allow it.”
“He is still as strong willed as ever. That need to control and manipulate hasn’t waned with age.”
My lip turned up, and I let out a harsh chuckle. “Not this time. If I have to, I will waste not one second sequestering him on the other side of the globe if he tests me.” The reign was passed to me. I ruled, and he would not control me any longer. The tides had turned, and I would do whatever was necessary to ensure Ophelia was mine.
“The problem is—how much will you let him pick and prod until you snap?”
I leaned back. “He’s going to keep pushing the Harris girl no matter what, but that isn’t enough.”
“I still don’t like this.”
“You don’t have to. I do. This is the path I’ve cho
sen.” Silence prevailed. I could tell he wanted to argue with me more, as that was his favorite pastime, so I changed the course of the conversation. “How are the talks with Worthington going?” I asked, completely and utterly desperate to move the conversation from my fiancée.
Hamilton went silent, a rarity, which garnered my full attention. “What happened?”
“Another bidder.”
“And?”
“And Donovan Trading and Investments’ President of Acquisitions isn’t a pushover.”
“Stop speaking in roundabout ways and tell me.”
“Carthwright offered them a better deal. It’s going to make Donovan excel in the market.”
“We still dominate the market.”
Hamilton’s jaw clenched. “This isn’t the first time Thane Carthwright has snatched a promising addition away from us.”
“You’re afraid of a relatively small-time trading and investments firm?”
“At the rate they’re growing and expanding, yes.”
Interesting. Like Donovan, we were growing our own investment firm to go with our financial side.
“It sounds like we should have hired this Carthwright.”
“We tried five years ago at the first instance of crowding, but he declined.”
The phone on my desktop rang, and I reached for it. “I don’t want to lose this to a lesser company. Do whatever it takes.”
“Hire a hitman? Sure, you got it,” he said, picking up the folio and heading out.
I shook my head and let out a small chuckle as I picked up the receiver.
My eyes drifted closed before snapping back open. I shook my head and stared down at the page, the black letters blurring. I’d slept well, my bed incredibly comfortable, and it was a long, hard snooze. None of that mattered in the face of The Life and Times of Atticus William de Loughrey. After about five pages of ten-point font, eight-and-a-half by eleven sheets of white paper with small margins, I was fighting a wave of sleepiness threatening to take me under.
When Atticus handed me the leather binder, I didn’t think much of it. The problem was that it read like a history textbook and had me fighting sleep in a few pages. I hated history in high school, avoided it as best I could in college. Remembering dates with events and who won what battle or who conquered what country only to give it back later or have someone else take it from them was torture to me.
This was the same. At four years old, Atticus excelled in three languages and was on his way to becoming a master in fencing.
At four.
By the time I got to twenty, was it going to talk about him becoming the supreme ruler of the Earth?
This is going to take forever.
I ruffled the pages, watching them flip by with few gaps in the solid wall of text. It was going to take me forever to work my way through. I hadn’t made it past his preschool accomplishments yet, and there was another thirty plus years after that. Not to mention the history of the de Loughrey’s, which started at page ninety-seven.
With a sigh of defeat, I collapsed down onto the pages. My goal of having the now-christened Binder of Doom read by the weekend was out the window. At the rate I was going, making it to page twenty would be a great accomplishment worthy of celebration.
If I made a goal of ten pages a day, I could theoretically be done in a few weeks.
That was depressing. I graduated with a 3.9 from NYU in biology, but wanted to claw my eyes out over this?
A growl of my stomach turned my attention to the clock. It was noon, giving me the perfect excuse to take a break. Afterwards, maybe I’d sit out on the veranda and trudge on.
The sun was shining when I stepped outside after I finished off a sandwich made from last night’s leftovers. The air was warm with a light breeze filled with the promised heat of summer. It made me want to get out of the tower, to take a walk along the streets—some activity to fight the sleep the Binder of Doom incited.
Returning to my room, I located a small purse and filled it with the necessities, including my new phone and access card. I slipped on some sneakers, throwing the strap of my bag over my head as I walked to the elevator.
I blinked at the door, realizing it was my first time leaving since I’d arrived twenty-four hours earlier. With a turn of the handle, the door opened with little resistance, exposing the elevator bay. I pushed the call button, and within a few minutes I stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby.
Another first, and I couldn’t help but look around. I felt so out of place, unsure of my steps. It felt like I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be. As I approached the golden gates, they opened wide, just like my eyes.
“Good afternoon, Miss Evans,” a man in a suit standing at the concierge desk said as I passed through into the main lobby.
“H-hi,” I said, giving him a strained smile before scampering off toward the doors.
Once out of the opulent building and onto the hard, concrete streets of the city, I let out a sigh. The familiarity of the city sounds crashed down on me and calmed me. It was the first time the constant hum of the crowded streets gave me a sense of peace.
I felt incredibly out of place in Atticus’s home and almost felt like I was walking on eggshells whenever he was near.
His outburst and sudden departure from the dinner table confused me, and he was gone before I woke in the morning. Granted, my lack of sleep and the comfort of the bed kept me there until well after nine.
The whole encounter started off nice, if not awkward, and ended in his blow-up. Was that how things were always going to be, or was it just our breaking-in period? I hoped it was just the break-in period. We had to get to know each other. That was the only way we were going to make it through five years.
I had no destination in mind, but the walking helped to center me. After some time, I somehow ended up in front of the de Loughrey building. It wasn’t where I was intending to go and no reason to be there, but still I entered.
And got on the elevator for the top floor.
I glanced around, my heart suddenly hammering in my chest. When I reached the desks near his office, I noticed Holly’s seat was empty.
“He’s on a call,” a woman called.
I turned to find a woman around my age, possibly. It was hard to tell. Her dark skin was flawless and completely unblemished.
“Oh,” was all I could say.
“Do you want to wait?” she asked, giving me a small smile.
I leaned toward her. “Do I look as out of place as I feel?” I whispered.
She chuckled. “There is a little deer-in-headlights going on, honey.”
I pursed my lips and sighed. “Why am I here?”
“Want some coffee? We have a great espresso machine,” she offered.
I shook my head. “Please don’t worry. I’m probably going to just go back downstairs anyway.”
She reached out for my hand. “Wait. Stay. Talk to him.”
I nodded and worried my bottom lip, and my stomach twisted. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Alexis,” she said with a warm smile.
“Thanks, Alexis.”
“You’re welcome. Holly’s chair is empty. You can sit in her seat until he’s available, if you want.”
I gave her a nod and moved around the half wall to where Holly resided. My hand rested on the top of the wall when the deep timbre of his voice caught my attention. There was an edge to it, much like when he was upset at the restaurant, but this was much more frightening.
“If you don’t agree, Vincent, you will force my hand.”
“You bastard,” Vincent’s voice hissed from the phone’s speaker.
“We had an agreement.”
“You’re an underhanded son-of-a—”
“Watch your next words. Carefully. I do not suffer outraged bursts of insults.” The chill in his tone sent a shiver down my spine with its deadly edge. “We have a contract. I will lay waste to everything you hold dear if you do not complete the
terms.”
“Fucking de Loughreys. Think you can get away with—”
“We had a deal!” Atticus roared, cutting the man off and making me jump. “You are the one who has failed to uphold his end. I have completed the agreed-upon conditions of our bargain. Supplied you with all you requested. I am not some simpleton you can roll over. Who did you think you were getting into bed with?”
The conversation felt like a mirror image to my own situation. Who did I get into bed with?
“Do not put blame on me or my company for your inadequacies. You will find a much darker side to me if you let your ego war with mine. I guarantee you will not like the outcome.”
It was a side of him I’d never witnessed. I’d seen him in a poor mood, watched him send waiters away with tears in their eyes. Experienced myself the lengths he would go to get what he wanted. Anger and annoyance, yes, but not the oppressive power with which he spoke.
The dark undercurrent full of malice in his tone was unnerving. The power, authority, and strength that radiated off him in that conversation was intense enough to send a man to his knees.
My stomach knotted, and a hollow sensation crept inside.
“You have twenty-four hours before I tear your company apart brick by brick.” He gave the man on the other end no time to respond before he picked up the receiver and slammed it back down, ending the call.
“There’s a button for that,” Holly said, surprising me. I’d assumed she was at lunch.
“I know there’s a fucking button, but that’s the only fucking way my anger is getting out at the moment, unless you wish to get me yet another phone when I throw it across the room.”
She sighed. “That would be two in a month. Just go down to the gym and hit the punching bag.”
“Seriously?”
“Fucking de Loughreys.”
“Are you just going to stand outside my door all day?” Atticus’s voice floated from the open doorway.
I jumped, wondering how he knew I was there, my gaze flickering to the door.
