Chapter 9

"Can you explain to me why the Director of Anderson Entertainments is running around with some streetwalker?" Grandma remarked. Blake clenched his jaw and shot back, "She's not a streetwalker. She's a hardworking woman who pulls night shifts at a restaurant."

Grandma chuckled, "I don't care about her backstory. I just hope she's a one-time fling. I won't let you make the kind of mistakes your brother did," she said, prompting me to feel defensive. "Mistakes? So what's the right choice then? An airheaded blonde?" I challenged.

"That so-called airhead will be far more beneficial for our company's growth than the broken woman," she replied.

Stay calm.

"That woman is my wife. And Destiny isn't broken. Don't ever say that again," I defended. I was doing my best to keep my tone measured since this woman was still my employer and my grandma.

Grandmother's smile froze on her face. "Destiny is...well, she's not exactly the kind of woman I had in mind for you, Walker. And now, with a baby on the way...it's making things complicated. But anyhow, when there is a will, there is a way."

I frowned and said, "I'm not going along with your plan this time. When I was about to marry Destiny, you only gave me your blessing after I agreed to become your heir instead of my father. You promised you wouldn't interfere in our marriage, yet here you are, meddling with unnecessary tactics." I leaned against her desk and continued, "I'm already married, and I love my wife. I won't hurt her for the supposed greater good of the company."

Grandma fell silent for a moment before sighing. "But the day will come when that woman betrays you. I'm doing this because I don't want you to get hurt. The same goes for you, Blake ."

"Do you want to ruin your image by going around with that...girl?" she said, her voice low and disapproving. Blake hung his head. Grandma looked at me, " She will take away your happiness the same way she did two years ago. That woman will soon show her true colors."

I raised an eyebrow, taken aback by her sudden change in tone. "What do you mean, Grandma?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.

Blake shifted uncomfortably in his seat, sensing the tension in the air. "Grandma, come on," he said, trying to intervene. "Stop saying that. Destiny is a good person. She would never hurt Walker."

But my grandmother was not to be swayed. "A good person?" she repeated, her voice dripping with skepticism. "Walker, you deserve better than that. Are you prepared to bear the consequences?" She trailed off, her expression disdainful.

I felt a surge of anger at her words, but I bit back my retort, not wanting to escalate the situation. Instead, I stood up, my eyes locked on my grandmother's. "There are no consequences to bear, so I think you should stop. We're done here, Grandma," I said, my voice firm but polite.

Blake quickly got up, sensing that it was time to leave. "Yeah, we should probably get going," he said, trying to smooth things over.

"Terrence is having a birthday dinner party in a few weeks. Be sure to attend," she said and dismissed us.

I could feel my grandmother's disapproving gaze on my back as we walked out of the office. I knew that this was far from over.

The drive to Anderson entertainments was quiet until Blake asked, "There's a new bar on X Street. Do you want to go with me?" His voice was a little shaky, but he tried to hide it with a grin. My brother had always been like that. He never told me how he felt which is a trait he took from my mom. I was too tired to ask anything, "Sure."

*****

Destiny

Crash. Thud. I woke up to a loud noise coming from the living room, my heart racing in my chest. What the hell was that? Was it Walker? Having watched enough horror movies, I knew better than to call out into the darkness like an idiot.

I quietly got out of bed and grabbed one of Walker's heavy shoes before leaving the room. There was no way I was stepping outside without a weapon.

As I entered the living room, I saw the silhouette of a man standing by the couch, muttering to himself. This was my moment to strike. I lifted the shoe and swung it at his head. "Fucking hell!" he groaned as he fell to the floor. Just as I was about to attack again, I recognized the voice.

I quickly rushed to turn on the light and was surprised to see Blake groaning in pain on the floor and Walker lying motionless on the couch. I dropped the shoe and hurried to help Blake up. "I'm so sorry, Blake. I thought you were a burglar," I apologized.

Blake chuckled but winced. "No, I'm sorry for intruding. But seriously? A shoe? How is that supposed to save you?" he asked.

"You're in pain, aren't you? That's what a shoe can do," I retorted, glancing at Walker. "What happened? Why is he drunk?" I was puzzled because Walker rarely drinks alcohol.

Blake sighed. "Grandma scolded us, so we went drinking. I didn't think he would overdo it," he explained. I wondered what the chairwoman had said to make Walker drink so much.

"Thank you for bringing him home. Is there a cab waiting for you?" I asked so I wouldn't waste his time. Blake chuckled nervously. "I drove here."

My eyes widened. "You drank and drove? Are you crazy?!" I exclaimed, stepping back. He shifted away from me. "Well, there weren't any cabs available, so..." he trailed off. This reckless idiot! "What if something had happened to both of you? I'm so disappointed right now. Especially in you." I kicked the sleeping man on the couch.

Walker groaned and curled up into a ball. My blood boiled as I looked at my brother-in-law. Blake chuckled nervously again. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again," he promised. I sighed, lacking the strength to scold him further. "Just help me carry him to the room. You'll sleep in the guest room."

After I took Walker to the room, I gave Blake a clean set of Walker's clothes and a blanket, and then I wished him goodnight. When I returned to Walker's room, I found that he was no longer there, and the light was on in the bathroom.

I knocked on the door. "Walker?" There was a low hum from the other side. I opened the door and entered. He was in the bathtub, covered in soap bubbles. A half-empty bottle of wine in his hand hanging off the side of the tub.

He turned his head to face me. A lopsided smile formed on his face. "Hey, beautiful," he slurred, his voice husky from the wine. "Come on in. The water's fine." He chuckled to himself, clearly amused by his joke.

I rolled my eyes. "Walker, what are you doing? You're going to drown in there." He shrugged, the bubbles sliding down his chest. "I'm just relaxing." His gaze drifted off, and he stared at the wall, lost in thought. He looked tired.

Walking over to the tub, I sat down on the edge. "Walker, look at me." I gently turned his face toward mine. His eyes were glassy, but he focused on me, a hint of a smile still on his lips. He probably won't remember anything tomorrow. I took the bottle from him. "That's enough. When did you even wake up? No, the real question is, where did you get this bottle from? Are you hiding wine again?" I placed it on the sink.

"The water isn't even warm; you'll surely catch a cold," I said, turning on the shower.

Walker chuckled, and I shot him a glare. "Are you laughing? Does your tipsy brother driving your drunk self home sound funny to you?" I asked. He kept smiling, which only made me angrier. "I'm mad at you right now. What if something happened to you—"

"—I miss you," he said suddenly.