“We’ll represent Gwyneth and keep things as they are.”“Even if you personally take the case, there’s no way Susan will come out of this empty-handed. Gwyneth can’t touch her inheritance or trust fund until she’s twenty-one. That’s a whole year for Susan to demand the house and shares of the firm. She’ll have a leg to stand on, too, since Kingsley made his father’s will null and void. Because he used his father’s money for Weaver & Shaw’s capital, she can sue for her husband’s shares that Kingsley inherited. Not to mention that she’ll be up against a girl who can’t touch her money yet. And before you suggest it, yes, we can stall in court, but considering all of Susan and Kingsley’s legal battles in the past, I say Gwyneth doesn’t stand a chance. She doesn’t have her father’s legal experience, revenge spirit, or ruthlessness. She’ll be eaten alive by Susan.”I want to disagree, but I can’t. Aspen is right. Kingsley’s lawsuits against Susan were fueled by pure spite. He hated her and w
GwynethWhen I was a kid, I had a problem learning words. I don’t know why. I have a high IQ, and I can figure out my way around things, but memorizing words was a bit difficult.The professionals my dad took me to thought I had some form of dyslexia, but it’s not like I couldn’t read or recognize words. It’s not that they all appeared the same. They just appeared alive.You know that feeling when you’re reading something and it nearly jumps off the page at you? For me, it was literal, and that’s exactly how it felt. As if the words were coming after me.Turns out, I didn’t have a problem with all the words. Just the negative ones. The words that make my skin itchy and my vision turn hazy. The words that I felt instead of only reading them.Anxietymade my skin crawl and my nose tingle.Cruelturned my cheeks hot and my body tight with the need to defend the one who was subjugated to it.Fearmade my teeth clench and my heart shrink in anticipation for what was to come.Saderased my smil
I can’t go back to the house we called ours and pick up nonexistent pieces of myself.How can I when everything in there bears witness to how well and hard he raised me and how much he sacrificed himself for me?I didn’t even consider moving out after high school. People my age want to get away from their parents, but I didn’t. It’s where home is.A sudden shiver jolts me upright when the jacket that’s been covering me falls down my arms and to my lap.My fingers trace the material and I’m surprised they don’t catch fire. It doesn’t matter that I don’t remember him putting it on me, or how I even ended up lying in the chair. The smell gives it away. A little bit spicy and woodsy with an undertone of musk, but it’s still strong and manly and so much like him.The man I hugged and whose chest I cried into.The man whose shirt I probably messed up.He didn’t touch me back, didn’t console me, but having him there, even immobile, was enough for me.He still had his body tight and rigid lik
NathanielNecessity.I’ve never liked that word. It’s because of necessity that my brother decided to leave the country, and that got him killed.It’s because of necessity that people vote for the likes of my father to represent them in spite of the fact that he only cares about himself.In a way, necessity is the root of all evil. Decisions based on it are a bit impulsive and almost always have dire consequences down the line. Ones that could be dangerous, lethal even.Of all people, I’m well aware of the dangerous repercussions of hasty actions. I never decide anything unless I have a 360-degree view of the entire situation as well as all of its possible results. This is the first time I’ve taken a step into territory that hasn’t been carefully plotted. It’s like walking through a minefield with a blindfold on.But just like earlier, I don’t think about the possible repercussions. I shove them to the back of my mind and focus on the now. On the present and its own sets of cause and
Her eyes spark in a myriad of blue, gray, and green. Bright fucking green that I thought wouldn’t make an appearance again after King’s accident.I hate the way she looks at me. I fucking loathe it.Because it’s not just a gaze, it’s not mere eye contact. It’s words and phrases I don’t want to decipher.I let her go and she staggers a little, as if she’s been floating on air and her feet are finally touching the ground. It’s where she’s supposed to always be—on the ground—not in the clouds she sometimes ascends to.But even though I’m not touching her anymore, she’s still touching a part of me. My jacket is held snugly to her chest as if it’s some sort of armor—one she won’t let go of.And I need to stop thinking about what that jacket is touching, because that’s just fucked up.“It’s not that I want to marry you.”A swallow, a clink of nails, a slight jump in her shoulders. I’ve always hated how expressive she is but that she can still hide more than she shows.“Then why did you say
Nathaniel“Do you have any fucking idea what you’re doing?”I sigh for the thousandth time today and face my nephew—the source of the unnecessary question.“He does,” Aspen tells him with her usual assertiveness.The three of us are standing near City Hall, ignoring the people buzzing around us, and focusing on the time. Or I’m probably the only one who’s having an unhealthy obsession with my watch.Gwyneth is twenty minutes late.Surely there’s a reason behind her tardiness. She’s never been the type who’s late to appointments. Or irresponsible.Though it’s true that getting married only five days after her father’s accident isn’t a normal situation, it’s not like we have time. The sooner she gives me power of attorney, the easier I can stop Susan’s moves. Because she’s plotting them as we speak. I made calls, talked to judges, and I know about the subpoenas her lawyer is trying to file. I can only ward her off for so long before I run out of options.Time isn’t on our side, which is
GwynethI haven’t slept all night.And that’s sort of a problem because I become jittery and a bit neurotic when I don’t sleep.Insomnia and I aren’t strangers, especially since I didn’t manage to completely desensitize myself to that word. It might be written in a red Sharpie because it’s one of the words I struggle with the most.Along withdeath.I think I also need to addmoving onto the red list because I can’t do that. I’m supposed to, Ihaveto, but my mind is stuck in a different type of loop that I can’t escape.So I spent the night in the closet. I wanted to stay with Dad, but Nate said in that stern voice of his to “go home and get some sleep” because tomorrow—today—is a big day. He didn’t voice the last part, but I figured it out on my own.However, I couldn’t just get some sleep. Not even after I blasted Twenty One Pilots on my headphones and exhausted myself by dancing. Not even when I swallowed like three sleeping pills. Or maybe it was five. I lost count somewhere.My mind
“About what?” I totally wasn’t listening, because he’s still touching me. He still has his warm hand on my elbow. Nate doesn’t do that, you know. He doesn’t touch me. Ever. I’m the one who tries it and fails miserably every time.But he’s doing it right now.And it’s hard to focus when I’m floating in the clouds.“About how you’re not a burden.”My heart jolts and I can’t control the tremor that shoots through my limbs. It’s a knee-jerk reaction that gives away my emotions and I hate it. Especially in front of him. The man who’s the reason behind it every damn time.“I am.” I lower my head, staring at my white sneakers, and that automatically makes me look at his prim leather shoes. And the difference between his and mine is so striking that it helps to anchor me in the moment, even if temporarily. “I know you’re marrying me because you want to protect Dad’s assets and that’s okay, but it still makes me a burden. Because I’m not old enough to take care of things myself and I didn’t ev
I’m still unconvinced, considering the fact that she looked to be on the verge of a meltdown just now. But I also don’t want to risk Knox’s wrath, so I throw the remnants of my burger in the trash and step past him. I expect him to follow, but he doesn’t.Weird.I take the elevator up and head to Aspen’s office. I’ve dropped some files off to her before, so this isn’t the first time I’ve been here, but I hate it just the same.Her assistant tells me to go in, and I knock on the door, waiting for her curt “Come in” before I step inside.Her office is large, neat, and a bit manly, even if she is the most elegant woman I know. In a way, I understand why people like Jane or even Chris respect her. She’s a very hard worker and made it in a male-dominated world when the odds were against her. I should probably give her the benefit of the doubt, but I just can’t.Not only has Dad always painted her as a witch, but she also chose Nate to be the only man she’s close to.It could’ve been any ma
“I’m not. I’m just thinking about it from your dad’s perspective. Do you think he’d be full of smiles if he found out that his best friend took advantage of his daughter when he should’ve been taking care of her? He’s the older one. He should know better.”“He didn’t take advantage of me.Ichose this. I’m twenty and I can make my own decisions.”“Hey, calm down.” Chris softens his voice. “I was just saying it from a different perspective. Sit down.”It’s then I notice that I’m standing up, crushing the burger between my stiff fingers. And I hate this, I hate that I got worked up so fast and nearly lost my shit. If it was Nate, he wouldn’t have acted this way. Because he’s older and wiser, and maybe Chris is right. Maybe I just don’t know better.I flop back on the chair, my eyes stinging and my heart sinking in my chest. If the people who are supposed to be by my side are secretly judging me, how would others feel about it? Nate was right to keep the marriage a secret.Once again, he p
“Maybe you need encouragement or something.”“Thanks, guys, but…my tastes are different.”We both turn toward her at the same time and she just drinks from her water nonchalantly.“Do you veer in the other direction?” I ask, then blurt, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. You don’t need to answer.”“I’m not a lesbian. I just…like older men, I guess.”“Oh,” both Chris and I exclaim at the same time.Jane is actually my age, not mid-twenties like I thought. But she’s a genius—graduated college early and started working here not long before I came along.But all those details fade into the background. Only one is important and sticks with me; the fact that she likes older men. I knew I found her interesting for a reason.“I’m slightly wounded,” Chris breathes out. “Now I need to get older fast to get on your radar, ladies.”“What do I have to do with it?” I whisper, taking a large bite of my burger.“Come on, you have the hots for Nathaniel.”I choke on my mouthful and Jane pushes the b
GwynethYou know when you’re happy but feel like everything will eventually turn into an epic clusterfuck?Yeah, that’s me right now.Because it’s been so peaceful these last couple of days, so happy, so wholesome. Dad even moved his hand in mine when I went to visit him the day after my talk with Nate. He squeezed it, just the slightest bit, and I nearly fainted from happiness.The doctor didn’t give me much hope and said it was most likely a subconscious motor reaction and doesn’t mean anything, but I don’t believe that. I’m sure Dad wants to wake up. Besides, he was welcoming me back because it’s been some time since I last visited him.I apologized for wanting to bury him while he’s still alive. I told him that I didn’t mean to and that I just didn’t want him to abandon me like my mom did, and at that exact moment, he squeezed my hand.So yeah, the doctor is wrong, because Dad was listening and responded to me, so I know he’s there, that he didn’t leave me.That he’s not my mother
“You think?”“I do.”She nods meekly.“Are we good? Have you stopped thinking he abandoned you? He’s not your mother. He hated that woman. Because fuck her. Do you hear me? Fuck her for leaving you in the streets and being a coward who ran into the night.”“Yeah, fuck her.”“Good.”She smiles through her tears and I love the fucking sight of it, how the green rushes back to the surface, chasing away the gray. She never gets upset for very long. She’s always striving to move forward and trying her best to stay afloat.Because she’s special like that.“Hey, Nate.”“What?”“You didn’t comment on my language.”“You get a pass.”“Fuck yeah.”“Gwyneth.”“What? You said I get a pass.”“Not twice.” I inspect her finger, and thankfully, it’s not bleeding anymore. “And stop hurting yourself, or I swear to fucking God…”“What?” The word is so breathy, it’s barely audible.She has this habit of wanting to know the consequences. Sometimes, I suspect she does it on purpose, just to see my reaction.
“No need to.”“Yes, there’s a need to. Hobbies are important. Everyone I know has at least one, and some have a few.”“Everyone you know is a kid. All kids have are hobbies.”“That’s not true. There’s Daniel and Knox, and they like a lot of things, like sports and clubbing.”“They tell you that?”“Yeah.”My spine jerks in a rigid line despite my attempts to remain calm. Fact is, I can’t stop thinking about her having cheerful conversations with those two bastards. Yes, she’s outgoing, especially with those who are nice to her. And it probably means nothing, but that doesn’t negate the fact that the idea fills me with a raw feeling I’ve never experienced before.An irrational feeling I don’t want to find the reason behind. “Just what do you talk about with them?”“Stuff.”“Like?”“Nothing important.”“If it’s not important, then don’t talk about stuff with them.”“But I like them.”“You’ll stop it and that’s final.”“No.”“Gwyneth.”“I don’t tell you to stop talking to Aspen. I’m being
When I open them again, Gwyneth is jumping to the music, screaming with the singer about silence. The same silence she’s massacring right now.She turns in my direction at that exact moment and freezes, her eyes going wide, with her spatula mic still at her mouth.“Nate.” My name comes out as a flustered sound in the middle of the loud music before she clears her throat and shouts, “Alexa, stop.”The music comes to a halt and she grimaces. “Was I too loud?”“You think?”“Sorry. I thought you had noise-canceling headphones or something since you’ve never complained about the music before.”That’s because I come out to watch. But I don’t say that, continuing to observe her instead. She has flour on her cheeks, which have turned red from all the singing and dancing. A cap covers her auburn strands, but a few stubborn ones are peeking through and she blows on them whenever they get into her eyes.“I’m baking,” she announces, motioning at the bowls, the flour, the butter, and the mess on t
NathanielI’ve never been one to play games.They’re a waste of time and lack purpose—something that fools do to feel cunning or important. That type of affirmation means absolutely nothing to me.If anything, I’m the one who makes the games and sets the rules that everyone needs to follow.So imagine my fucking surprise when I find myself dragged into a game I didn’t sign up for. A game that shouldn’t have existed in the first place.I’m in the middle of it now. Right there where the game—Gwyneth—is.You can play with me all you want. I’ll be your toy.Those mere words turned me into a fucking insatiable beast. I didn’t only win her in the middle of the game, but I also had every right to play with her, torture her, torment her.A week now. It’s been a week since the day I broke my own protocol and brought sex to my workplace. When I ate her out and tasted her sweet cunt.I don’t mix business with pleasure.Ever.It’s unprofessional, bothersome, and fucking distracting.Or that’s what
“Language.”“Mmm.”“Answer me, Gwyneth. Whose pussy is this?”“Yours.”“That’s right. Mine. So why did you give it to someone else? Why did another fucker look at my pussy, let alone touch it?”God. If he keeps talking this dirty, I might come here and now.“Because you weren’t there…you weren’t touching me, so I had to let the boys do it, but you know what?”“What?” He’s pulling my panties down my legs, and I don’t focus on the trail of wetness that’s coating my thighs. I don’t focus on how shamelessly I’m drenching his fingers, because I’m preoccupied with something else.His face holds me hostage. His beautiful, ethereal face that’s been stealing my dreams since I started seeing him as a man.I drop my voice, staring at him from beneath my lashes. “I was thinking about you the whole time they were touching me. I imagined your fingers inside me and your tongue licking me. Your hands were on me too, and they were so powerful and masculine that I can’t stop thinking about them.”He pa