[Addison]
My little boy looks even smaller in a hospital bed with an IV attached to his arm.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Stone, but your son’s condition is serious. He is suffering from an intense allergic reaction,” the Doctor’s face is grim. “If he had gotten here an hour sooner, we could have prevented the severe dehydration. We were lucky this time that the reaction wasn’t worse.”
“Worse?” My voice warbles as Michael looks away, unable to my gaze. “How much worse?”
“If he had developed anaphylaxis, he’d be dead,” the doctor’s tone. “You’re lucky his heart didn’t stop on the way here. As it is, he’ll need to remain in the hospital for 24 hours for observation.”
Our son could have died, all because my husband couldn’t bear to disappoint his ex-girlfriend.
Michael volunteers to pay the bill and grab the new prescription for an emergency epi-pen. “I’ll be back soon, I promise,” he kisses the top of my head before rushing out of the room as if the sight of our sick son could chase him down the hall.
Grasping the frayed edges of my sweater, I twist and pull as I sit, unable to take my eyes off of my child for a minute. The last time I let him out of my sight, he ended up here. Exhausted, I fall asleep, my face resting on the foot of his bed.
“You would think that a mother would know better,” my mother-in-law, Lauren’s screeching voice snaps me awake as she stands, shouting, from just inside the doorway. “You do know they make gluten-free cakes, right? And dairy-free ice cream.”
“Of course, I do,” I scowl, my hackles raised as she once again assumes her perfect son had nothing to do with our current situation. “I didn’t feed him gluten, or dairy, that was your son, Michael, and …”
“Mommy,” Jayson rolls over towards me, his face drawn with exhaustion and fear.
Lauren uses her hip to block my path as I stand, making it to Jayson’s side before he’s fully awake. “Jayson my love, Grandma is here. Tell me, how did you get so sick?”
“Grandma,” Jayson whispers as she leans in to kiss his cheek. He looks over my shoulder before leaning into his grandmother and saying very softly, as if afraid I might hear, “Mommy gave me cake. Also strawberry ice cream.”
His words squeezed my heart like a vice and I stumble forward in shock as a tear rolls down my cheek. “Jayson, how could you say that? I’d never feed you a cake with gluten!”
“Are you calling my grandson, your son, a liar?” Lauren scoffs as she turns to me, her face red with fury. “He’s six. He’s an innocent child and you tried to kill him”
“Go away!” Jayson sits up, his cheeks puffed out as he glares at me through his long, blond eyelashes. “I want Mama Evelyn! She’s a better mommy than you! She loves me!”
“I love you, Jayson. Listen…”
My son pokes his fingers in his ears ignoring me as Michael opens the door. “What is this?”
“Tell your mother the truth!” I demand. “You and Evelyn did this and now our son is calling me a villain.”
Laura scoffs behind me, outraged. “I never realized what vile woman you are to bring Evelyn into this. She is such an elegant, sweet, and caring woman. She’s a teacher, a natural mother. When I’ve seen her with Jayson she’s always been the sweetest most doting…”
I’m not doing this here, not in front of my son. Pushing my husband out the door, I pull him into the hallway.
“How could you?” I hiss, my whole body shaking with anger. “You took our son to visit your mother, with Evelyn? How long, Michael?”
He places his hands on my arms and I shake it off, my anger burning. Taking several deep breaths I try to calm my breathing as I listen to my husband swear that he isn’t having an affair with his ex, that he isn’t making me look bad intentionally so that he won’t look like a villain.
“Don’t tell my mom,” he begs. “You know the truth, but I don’t want her to hate Evelyn for a simple mistake.”
In the background, I can hear my son screaming. Worried, I walk inside to see my mother-in-law trying to comfort him while he throws a fit loud enough to wake the dead.
Rushing forward, I try to comfort him, but he pushes me away, his little hand hitting my cheek. “I hate you! I want Mama Evelyn! I want Mama Evelyn! I wish you were gone!”
“Fine,” my heart sinks as I listen to my son curse me. He doesn’t want me, he wants her. “I’ll go if that’s what you really want. Evelyn can take care of you.”
I wait until I’m out of the room until I let the tears fall freely. As the elevator opens, an arm grabs my shoulder and pulls me back. “Wait, Addy!”
Michael’s chest is heaving as he struggles to regain his breath. “Wait! I didn’t tell him to say any of that I didn’t…”
“He didn’t come up with these ideas on his own, Michael. Children listen and watch the adults around them. His anger is because of you and Evelyn.”
Turning away, I step into the elevator. “Don’t follow me, Michael.”
As the elevator descends, the last 6 years of my life play in my mind. I graduated top in my class at law school and was offered jobs at the most prestigious law firms, but I set it aside to build my family–a family I thought I had with Michael and Jayson. They have been my whole universe.
And never once have I ever regretted giving them that time. It has been precious to me. I’ve always wanted to be a mother, to have a family of my own. But that family that I’ve invested so much love and time into wants nothing to do with me.
But to them, my sacrifices have been for nothing. Even my son, the center of my world, wants me to go away.
Stepping out onto the street, I wipe my eyes, taking a deep breath letting the sunlight hit my face.
And then I see her. A little girl with long brown pigtails standing in the middle of the road, her eyes staring off into space, not aware of the car only feet away from her.
Rushing out into the street, I place my body between the child and the car, wrapping myself around her as I pull us both onto the sidewalk just before the car slams into us both.
“Oh my God, are you okay,” the little girl blinks up at me, her large hazel eyes wide as she watches the car drive away. “Where is your mommy and daddy.”
Her only response is to hold onto me tightly, wrapping her arms around my neck.
Lifting her carefully I jump as an engine hums behind me, parking at the curb and stopping only a few feet away. When the car door opens, I find myself looking at one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen.
And he is looking straight back at me.
[Addison] The door to the car clicks open. An expensive Italian loafer is followed by the pinstriped leg of an elegant and sophisticated man. He towers over me, at least 7 inches taller and twice as wide, his strong arms and shoulders barely contained within the jacket of his well-tailored suit. From the Rolex at his wrist to the studs in his ears, and the ring gleaming on his hands, everything is diamond bright, as sharp and fine as the cut of his square chin and the angle of his high cheekbones. “Excuse me,” his smooth voice, deep and rich, rumbles through my body, as he removes his sunglasses and looks at me with eyes so blue they appear almost black. “I can take her from here.” Holding out his hands, his cold facade melts as he looks at the little girl with such love and concern that I find myself melting as well. But she doesn’t go to him, she clings to me even tighter. “Mom,” the little girl murmurs, burying her head into my chest. “I found my mommy.” “You little monster
[Addison]Everything hurts, especially my head which aches as I open my eyes and turn my head. Michael is sitting next to me, his eyes bright with excitement as he reaches forward and pulls my hand towards his, kissing it gently. “Oh good, you’re awake,” he grins brightly, “You had me worried.”“Michael, what happened?” the strange lights burn my eyes as I blink awake. “How did I end up in the hospital? I…” “You’re pregnant, Addy!” The smile on his face widens as he scoots closer to the bed. “After all this time! Can you believe it!”Pregnant? I can’t be pregnant. I was going to leave Michael, but if I’m pregnant, that changes everything. “The doctors say you are entering your third month,” his joy shines brightly, as he babbles about all of the things he wants to do for our new little one–designing a nursery and getting all the best things. “We need to set up your prenatal appointments and get a baby monitor and find a nanny and….” He wants to be a father again so badly. I was so
[ Addison ] The violent sound of tires screeching around the corner wakes me as my body jerks upward, slamming into the backseat with so much force that I feel I might be sick.Inhaling deeply, the scent of mold and stale cigarettes makes my nausea worse. Swallowing bile I fight not to throw up, my stomach churning as we hit another bump.“Oh look who’s awake,” a familiar voice coos. Twisting my head, I see Evelyn sitting in the car, not bound like me. She’s not gagged, her face untouched. She looks fresh, almost jubilant. What is she doing here?Where’s Jayson? Where’s my son? Was he hurt?“Looking for Jayson?” she smirks, ripping the tape from my mouth. A tear rolls down my cheek as the tape pulls at my skin.“Where’s my son?” I cry, glaring at her. “What did you do to him? He’s just a child!”“He’s fine,” the driver interrupts curtly. “He’s at home.”Evelyn pulls out her phone and shows me a picture of Jayson playing with the nanny. “See? Nothing to worry about.”“Where are you ta
[Addison]"What a shame," the man from the shadows steps forward and I finally get a good look at the goon who drove the car. He is handsome in a traditional kind of way, slick like second-rate CEO with his slicked back hair and tailored suit. Wheh he grins, he shows too many teeth, like a monster lurking in the dark.Kneeling before me, he grabs my chin and turns it from side to side. "Such a pretty little thing. It looks like you've been discarded. Just another broken doll."His breath is hot on my neck as he leans forward, his hand snaking down the front of my blouse. "I like broken things."Crying for him to leave me alone I spit in his face, a mixture of saliva, snot, and blood. He laughs, cutting the binding at my feet so he can push his body between my legs, not caring about the trail of blood.I kick and buck, screaming as he grabs my breast squeezing, another hand reaching up my skirt as he laughs at my efforts. "So much fight left! Good, I get to break you some more..."The
[Addison]“I’m so sorry, Addison,” the doctor placed a hand on my shoulder as she said her farewells. “Would you like us to call your husband or would you…”Shaking my head I told her not to bother. If he had cared about me or this child he’d have saved us in the warehouse. He’d have come back for us, or at least checked in on me after he was informed I was taken to the hospital. But I haven’t heard or seen anything of my husband in the three days I’ve been in the hospital receiving blood transfusions and recovering from the miscarriage and injuries. My body is slowly starting to heal–but my broken heart and shattered mind will never be the sameI am trapped within the loop of memories as I struggle to make sense of what happened that night. My son was so desperate to go outside and play, more insistent than usual. He was so persistent and didn’t ease up until we went out together only to have him run off away from me and out of sight as soon as I opened the door.Why? And then the
[Addison]The man steps forward into the light carrying an impossibly large bouquet of lilies in a fine, crystal vase. As our eyes connect, a warm wave of gratitude rolls through me as I recognize him instantly. “It’s you,” I murmur, my heart lifting. “The man from the warehouse.”The gentleman frowns, his face pinched with worry. “You must be mistaken. I haven’t been to any warehouses recently.” I know I’m not mistaken. The man in the warehouse took off his mask as he caught me. He looked just like him. The same eyes, the same jawline. “I’m sure I’m not mistaken. You’re the one who rescued me from the kidnappers.” His laughter is like a clear, brass bell that rings through the room. “Mrs. Stone, I assure you that you are mistaken. You were rescued by a special-ops unit that was investigating those kidnappers for having mob connections. I am not a federal agent,” he shakes his head. “Far from it, I run a multi-billion dollar trading company. I’ve never stepped foot in a warehouse.”
[Addison]I sit there stunned for a moment, processing his words. "$500,000," I repeat, flabergasted. "Yes," he raises an imperious eyebrow, tilting his head to the side. "Is it not enough? I can go as high as $650,000"As a legal assistant in my family firm, I only make around $120k per year. If I were to dust off my law degree and go back to work full-time as a lawyer, I might make $250,000. Maybe more if I left the family firm to work for one of the more prestigious firms in the city.And this man, this stranger, is offering me twice that just because his niece likes me. It’s a very generous offer. Too generous. There has to be a catch. Nobody gives something like that away for nothing in exchange.“Mr. Grant,” I wipe my eyes one more time with his handkerchief and look at him skeptically, “While I appreciate your offer, what exactly do you want me to do that would be worth $500,000 per year? Do you need a new lawyer?”Looking at his fine suit and jewelry, and his extravagant get-
[Hunter]There is something about Addison Stone that is different from any other woman I have met.She is smart and strong, beautiful and brave. She didn't hesitate before jumping into the road to sweep Livy up into her arms, protecting my niece from the oncoming traffic. Addison didn't think twice about the harm that could have come had she not moved quickly enough. It was completely selfless. Even in my other work, I rarely find someone who dives into trouble without assessing all of the risks. But this woman did, for a child she didn't even know. And when I tried to reward her for saving Livy's life, she refused me offhandedly, as if saving a child is something that anyone would do. But she's wrong. Most people freeze when faced with impossible situations. It takes a special person to run towards the danger. She's exactly the kind of person I want standing by Livy's side. As I step out of the hospital, my assistant, Reggie, is waiting by the door. He is impeccable as always, as
[Addison]Looking up into Hunter’s deep blue eyes, I’m unsure if I’ll ever be okay again. For a moment neither one of us moved, both looking just as unsure of what to do next as the other. Blinking, I take a shuddering breath. “It’s okay, Hunter, I…it was just a bit startling.” “Livy, you need to be more careful,” he reprimands her gently, his voice taking that soft touch he only has for her. “I know you are just being affectionate, but you could have hurt one of us. You scared me, Livy, and poor Miss Addison. That was too much.” “But I wanted a hug too,” she blinks innocently enough. Maybe all she needed was a hug. Maybe that’s all I needed too because I still haven’t stepped out of his arms.“Did I hurt you, Auntie,” her large hazel eyes look up at me innocently, although I see a touch of mischievousness around the corners of her mouth when she adds, "I'm sorry, Auntie Addison. I can kiss it to make it better.” Livy leans forward and places a small kiss on my waist. “Now Uncle
[Addison] The rose petals brush my fingers as I take the bouquet from Hunter, their gentle kiss like silk against my skin. “These are for me?” I stumble over my words, my heart rate spiking as I force myself to grasp the long, thornless stems. “Why?”The questioning uncertainty in my tone wilts the edges of Hunter’s smile as the shine in his eyes dims. “I was wrong, for bringing in Professor McCannon without your consent.”He seems genuinely sorry. If it had been any other flower, I'd have been more gracious in accepting them. Feeling guilty, I look away.Did Hunter know how this would affect me? Did he do this on purpose tit?“Ah,” I nod, swallowing hard as I look down at the flowers. They’re beautiful, the brightest shade of yellow I’ve ever seen, sprigs of lavender and baby’s breath mixed within, enhancing their natural sweet scent. Whoever put this bouquest together did so with meticulous care. I just wish I could appreciate their efforts. But I can't. TheBut I can’t stand to
[Addison]I was still more than a little upset at Hunter for his stunt today with Professor McCannon. How could he set me up like that? I begged him not to include him in my mess, and yet Hunter Grant, like always, decided he knew what was best.He means well, but he needs to be better at communicating his intentions. "You should go back to school," the professor advised. "Complete your master's degree. You shouldn't have ever left school just because Michael wanted you to." I had always intended to go back after Jayson got a bit older, I explained, "And now I have a job, I have Livy to watch, and I don't think I'll be able to find the time.""Nonsense," McCannon waves away my excuses. "Sometimes you need to be a bit selfish, and that time is now. If not now, then when? How much of your life are you going to put on hold for other people?"I hadn't thought about it that way but I guess the professor is right. "I don't know, professor, I'll think about it," I promise. "I don't want any
[Hunter]“Mr. Grant!” I hear her voice call out even one floor up. “You jerk! Come out and talk to me!”Snickering, I look up at Reggie, who shakes his head. “She isn’t wrong, you know.” When I raise a defiant eyebrow he shrugs, smirking. “What, Hunter, I call it as I see it. You know that. It’s one of the reasons you like me. Besides, sir, you know you could have given her a heads up before she came in this morning so that she could be prepared.”“I honestly had no idea that she was being sincere when she said she didn’t want him here,” I make a weak attempt at excusing my behavior. “I thought she was being humble.” Now it is Reggie’s turn to raise an eyebrow and I groan. “Alright, you got me. I owe her an apology.” “Flowers or jewelry?” Reggie’s face is deadpan. He’s serious. “Or something larger? Maybe a new car, a villa.” “We aren’t a couple, Mr. Carter,” My face burns as I turn away from him, shuffling papers from the right side of my desk to the left waiting for him to look s
Do I still love Michael Stone?Michael swears he still loves me, that there is nothing between him in Evelyn, that my family needs me, that I need him.But do I still love my husband?Thinking of everything he’s done, everything he plans to do makes my blood boil and my vision turn red. The embarrassment I felt as each interview went sour because he was determined to keep me at his side, the shame and hurt I felt at losing my family fortune. How can I love someone who treated me so cruelly?And yet, how does one start over after caring with all your heart for more than half a decade. I put everything that I have into this family--heart and soul. It is hard to set something that is deeply ingrained within me aside, and even harder to deny it. “Maybe," I admit, although it shames me to do so. "I wish I could just throw it all away, but how can I? There was love there, Professor, once. I don't want Michael anymore, but part of me might always love him." “That’s unfortunate,” the old
[Addison]The elevator closes and then descends, taking Charley with it. I receive a text immediately after from her, stating that she'll meet me at the reception desk tomorrow for the rest of our orientation. Fuming, I turn back towards my current situation. The professor is watching me patiently, waiting to see my next move. I know he's analyzing me even now, judging me in his intuitive way. My skin crawls under his scrutiny even as I turn away, looking up and down as if the solution to my situation were in the ceiling or floor. I thought Hunter and I were becoming friends. But friends don’t set other friends up for emotional abuse. Friends don’t hold each other hostage, denying them the chance to leave the building. Friends don’t do…whatever it is Hunter Grant is doing by bringing me to this apartment to be alone with my professor. He’s going to hear from me. This whole situation is absolutely infuriating. I didn't sign up to come in and be harrassed by my old professor. “M
[Addison] I’m not sure that I heard her right, so I ask Charley to repeat herself. “Mr. Grant says he needs you to complete onboarding before you leave and to check in with payroll to make sure everything is in order,” Charley tries to smile, but it looks strained and unnatural, her cheeks trying too hard to make her lips stretch pleasantly across the mountainous peaks of her perfect cheekbones and chiseled jawline. She’s almost aggressively masculine in her beauty, and it is clear that she is used to making her way through life using her muscles and her wit more than her charm. “Fine,” I sigh, forgiving her for relaying his message. It’s not like Charley had any say in her orders. She’s just doing her job. At least he isn’t asking me to talk it out with the bully professor. I don’t know if my psyche could take another go around with him. I don’t know why that man hates me so much. It always felt personal, as if I were somehow slapping him across the face every time I did
[Addison] The elderly man stood a bit straighter, scanning me with his critical eye in the way he does a law brief, meticulously and with the ability to see everything. As if he has been frozen in time these last 5 years, nothing about him has changed--not his tattered tweed suit or the way he looks down his nose at you, inspecting you like one might ponder a particularly nasty problem to be solved. When people think of the autistic savant, the person with no emotional tact but with a keen mind that can see what others cannot, they could be discussing Professor Magnus McCannon. My teacher, mentor, and the hardest professor I ever knew. I was considered smart. Very smart. It was the reason I was admitted into law school so young, after completing my undergrad studies. I entered Harvard Law with perfect grades and several letters of recommendation. But my mind is nothing compared to Professor McCannon’s. As a child he was deemed a super genius, his complex mind and his ability
[Addison] Have you ever noticed those moments in your life where making a choice could change the path of your future forever? That day when I dashed forward to save Olivia had been one of them. Trusting my son as he led me into that alley had been another. And now, as the smooth, cold bar of the door handle on the tall glass door leading into Grant Group warms under my hand, I know this is another one. As I step inside, my feet clatter on the long expanse of modern slate tile, dark and bold, making the metallic fixtures and white walls gleam even brighter. The words, “Grant Group,” glow on the wall above a receptionist's desk, where a security guard stands near a metal detector and an elevator entrance requiring a key card. The security is tight, but this doesn’t surprise me knowing Hunter Grant. What surprises me, I guess, is the reception that I receive. As soon as the receptionist hears my approach, the young man comes forward from behind his desk. Bowing he holds out a b