Alexander’s POV
Harry Clifford, the chosen brother, the best of the Clifford genes, loved, celebrated, doted on, the child everyone wanted and me neglected, ignored, overlooked, not his worthy opponent, not his second, not even his spare but invisible. Harry Clifford, now hanging on the wall, nothing but a fucking portrait on the wall. Obliterated from the world. I blow a huff, digesting the giant portrait of my brother in his favorite place at the Clifford Manor. The boring, dandy, depressing study, an empty room of books and echoes. I often wondered why he loved this place so much and now I wonder what it will be without him. I had taken the next flight out of Spain back to Sussex; leaving Olivia to simmer in the Clifford Manor, until I was well away. We couldn’t have anyone finding out about our affair, especially not fresh after her husband’s death; people would crucify us, Olivia more than me. Not that I cared for people’s gossip but Olivia definitely needed a breather, so best we kept things as discreet as possible. I arrived at Clifford Manor consumed with both pain and guilt. I didn't have the best relationship with my family but losing them, both, like this. It was torture, the universe had stuck it’s hand in my eyes. “Alexander” A solemn voice invades, I turn “Simon” I met his wounded gaze, his pain drawing lines on his face, his eyes looked heavy with unshed tears. His lips tremble, I seem to be stoking his sympathy. He scoots over to where I was standing and pulls me to a full hug. “I’m sorry” A low mumble I freeze, unattached, unprepared, not used to and not needing this emission of unbridled emotions. I take his shoulders, patting my way out of his arms. When I release him, his eyes nearly betray him but a sharp sniff and a head shake save his composure. “I’d like to know what needs to be done and what I need to do” I state clearly. “You…” He takes my eyes, his brows furrow. “Are you sure?….I mean you just lost your grandfather and your brother…I would think you need a moment before bombarding you with responsibilities” “I don’t need pampering Simon; I need to know what needs to be done so I do it and get back to my trip” His jaw slacked, horizontal wrinkles appeared on his forehead, exposing his surprise. “What is it Simon? Have I said something off?” “No…It’s just you can’t go back to your trip” I let out a hostile chuckle. “Ofcourse Simon not now, but after the burial I would definitely have to cut out”. Alexander Clifford had to expend his energy and he certainly couldn’t do it from here, in this dreadful Manor, the den of all his nightmares. I scoff inwardly. “I’m sorry Alexander but I don’t think you understand; your grandfather died along with your brother…” His eyes offered twice his words. Fuck Simon! why mention the obvious. I could drive you into a fucking wall fool. His recourse tells me he read the impressions on my face. “All I’m trying to say is, with your grandfather and brother dead, you’re the new forerunner of the Clifford Empire. You literally cannot go back to the life you’re used to” I chuckle; the crude kind, my eyes wander, I chuckle again but totally not funny. Simon is making a not so funny joke. “And why the fuck would you think that I would want to forerun anything out here?” I flare. He lets out a sharp breath. “Alexander, your Grandfather named me Executor of the Clifford Estate before he passed…he trusted me, Harry trusted me….” Of course he did, the old fool trusted everyone but me and Harry gullibly did anything he asked. I flip inwardly. “And as Executor, I must look out for the best interest of Clifford” “It’s just a lot of talk, I’m waiting for the part where I can get the fuck out of here” “I—I don-t see that you….” He stammered and paused, gauging my emotions and forced a finish. “You don’t have a choice here Alexander” One intimidating step after the other, I stride to where he is, my fierce gaze drilling him. “I always have a choice….I am nothing like any of you out here, I live by my own rules, on my own terms and no one, absolutely no one can tell me what to do” Absolutely nobody; they didn’t call me the rebel of Sussex for nothing. “Not even the Clifford constitution? Passed down generations after generations…” “I don’t give a fuck what some old, groggily constitution has to say. I will not be tied to this fucking place” My blood takes heat, riling up inside of me. I have no desire to be a forerunner, I am an invaluable cunt, unworthy of running the Clifford Empire, Grandfather made that very clear, one too many times. I am weak and don’t have the head to handle the matters of the Estate. Grandpa made it all too clear. I made my peace with it so I don’t need some stupid constitution trying to change that now. “Look Alexander… I know that you have your ways of doing things and you detest being here as much as you detest what this place stands for… I know you love being the rebel of Sussex…” Yes I do, very much. I gaud inwardly. “But if you do not step up, Clifford empire would cease to exist…” “What the fuck does that mean?” I seize the words from his mouth. “The Clifford constitution….” Oh the fucking constitution. I grunt loudly. “States that only a Clifford can run the empire and in an event that there isn’t a Clifford available or capable to run the empire; the lawyers have strict instructions to put up Clifford Empire for sale, Clifford would be pieced apart for the highest bidder and in a matter of months, it would cease to exist” A hostile laughter erupts. “What kind of fucked up people come up with something so preposterous and laughable” “Your ancestors” Simon chips. Bloody Ancestors, old skeletons still trying to stick a knife in me from their bloody graves. “That’s not all” Simon says I drag a hand through my rough curls, frustration building walls inside of me. A few more blocks and I’d explode. I throw him a face, waiting, dreading his next words. “You must take a wife” I laugh; Simon’s unto another cruel joke. “I am never marrying” I rasp “You would need to Alexander” He insists “I don’t need a fucking wife!” “Clifford does; the constitution says to be Master of Clifford, you must take a wife or else you won’t be reinstated and Clifford goes on the market” He explained raptly What?! What?! Taking a wife? That’s never going to happen. This rebel is not getting chained by any woman alive. “You see marriage shows responsibility and stability….your ancestors believed that to run Clifford Empire, you must show responsibility and stability” “Say no more Simon…. Say no more” His words were starting to provoke a war inside me, a war that could light up Simon where he stood. .Alexander’s POV “Are you making this shit up?” I tackle him, walking him over with crude eyes. He shakes his head. “The constitution exists, all three hundred pages of it. I can have it sent up right now” He appears serious. My blood heats up another degree, my veins feel like they could pop out from my skin. Three hundred fucking pages of disaster about to ruin my life. No freaking way. Simon continues amidst the chaos in my head. “And the union has to make a year for it to be acknowledged or you would be removed as Clifford’s forerunner immediately and then Clifford Empire would….” “Shut up…shut up…shut up” I nearly want to bite his head off but he saves himself with a swift retreat. I drag my feet. “This is bullshit…bullshit…bullshit” “Alexander I don’t believe it would be hard to find a happy Mrs. Clifford. There would be at least a thousand offers, you have nothing to worry about” “So what the hell am I supposed to do now?” Now that the fucking constitution has me fuc
Catherine’s POV How could someone be so beautiful? dark eyes glistened under very relaxed black brows. His medium length mid-brown hair tucked behind his ears, slightly parted at its corner. His hawk nose pointed to his thick lips, red, like it had color in it. full, they looked so skilled, like they had done a lot of kissing, perfect for fantasizing. His chiseled jaw hosted his perfectly carved stubble. I imagine running my fingers through. My teeth biting into my lower lip, lusting dangerously. His eyes had a fire, like it was on a hunt, I got the sense it was always that way. My eyes did a full walk over his 6 foot 5 inches of biceps and calves cuddled by a lazy black polo shirt winged by a leather jacket; the kind only bad boys wore. A walking fantasy, a proper fantasy God, I moan inwardly. Catherine Kent! Stop lusting, his brother just died; your intended just died, behave yourself. My eyes fall to his long legs kissed by tight black jeans. Damn I wish I were the pants. I
Alexander’s POV “Is it true?…” Olivia blazes into Harry’s study, wearing a scowl. She crosses her arms over her chest, adjusting her weight on one hip. “You’re really taking a wife? The news is all over the Manor” She ensues, anger flashing in her feline eyes. My eyes cruise her figure, walking up her black, high waisted, split hem mini skirt, her snatched waist holding her tucked shirt and her famous push-up cleavage standing out. Her high cheek bones jut upwards, clenched jaw and burgundy lips pointing forward. Her fuming anger makes her even more inviting, stroking my appetite for her. I already know the reason for her infested mood, Catherine Kent. I draw closer to her. “It’s the fucking Clifford constitution” “And since when does the rebel of Sussex care about a fucking constitution…much less, Clifford’s?” She flares, taking my eyes fiercely. “I don’t… I guess I am just not pathetic enough to let Clifford Empire dissipate into thin air or maybe I just want to piss on A
Alexander’s POV The burial ceremony commenced with hymns from the choir and sermons from the priest. I was seated at the front row seat of the two way funeral arrangement with Arthur’s widow by my side. Partners, friends, dignitaries from all around the world spread out around me. Arthur Clifford was a powerful man and everyone wanted to pay their last respect. Stop! I yell inwardly as sympathetic gawks track me; concoctions of pity, gross care and attention flood my direction. Where were they when I needed them?. No one saw invisible Alexander, until now when my grandfather and beloved brother lay lifeless on the ground, I finally get a little bit of attention. Well guess what? Alexander Clifford does not need it, he outgrew it, he survived without it, he can do without it. Simon was delivering the Eulogy of my grandfather and brother and as I listened, it dawned on me why I refused to deliver it in the first place. I couldn’t speak of a love that I neither showed nor received
Alexander’s POV “Alexander…” A crusty voice calls from behind me. I summarize one felicitation and turn to the other. It’s uncle Richard; Daddy’s younger brother. “Or should I say Rebel of Sussex” His lips slice with a smile. “Uncle Richard” I give a half-suppressed laugh. It’s been a while since I have seen him. My fault anyway. I was mostly a ghost around these parts. “I am so sorry Alexander” He cups a hug, about fifty seconds long. I almost yank him off me but he saves himself, letting me go. “Olivia” He turns to her, a riddled smile slices his lips. She was standing right next to me. “Richard” She releases her rich artificial smile, one that indicates irritation rather than pleasure. Olivia doesn’t like Richard, I gather but I am glad I know nothing of it. I hate drama and I run fast enough from it every single time. “Looking beautiful as always” He takes up her hand and pecks the back of her palm. “I am so sorry for your loss” His derisive undertone, very palpabl
Alexander’s POV “Did your father not teach you not to eye another man while your husband is standing right there in front of you?” I rake, tearing at her vapid blue eyes. Her lips parted and then her eyes fell to the tight grip of my hand on her wrist. I unplug my hand instantly. She rubbed on her tender wrist, her eyes milking mine. Don’t do that Angel; that’s not going to work on me. Answer the fucking question. “Would you rather be in Simon’s bed?” I drill her further, refusing to allow her emotional tantrum work on me. “No” She trembled, a teardrop leaving her right eye. Fucking soft angel, I curse under my breath. “Don’t cry” I command. Her cheeks flush, her jaw tightens, her nostrils flare outward and it is evident that a struggle was going on in her mind. Come on Angel, say what you want to say. “Are you jealous?” She rasps. I scoff and then laugh a little. I actually find it amusing that she would think she could muster the power to make me jealous. “You flatter y
Catherine’s POVThe rippling sounds of the shower continued as I laid still in the bed, feeling crudely unsatisfied, abandoned, and used; I felt worse than a whore, more like a hen ravaged by a cock in heat. Undignified. Not even a single touch, just a quick rump and it was over. But that's what you signed up for Catherine. He was explicitly clear with you; the arrogant demon was very clear; this is what you accepted.Fuck you Alexander Clifford! Fuck you for killing my fantasies; fuck you for making me feel this way; I scrambled to my feet with what was left of my dignity. I cringe at first when my feet touch the cold ground, convincing me to lay back in bed but I refuse. My dissatisfaction had transposed to rage, fierce rage and I could burn him if my eyes met him in this instant. I tiptoed, ignoring the warnings of the cold floor to fetch my dress, I wore it over my body as quickly as I could, timing the sound of the shower. I would kill him if I saw him, best I disappear while we
Catherine’s POV “I’m—I’m jus—-“ I stuttered weakly. “Get up” He commanded and my legs obeyed as if they had ears, as if they could see the frightening eyes of Alexander Clifford. His eyes reached for his blue robe before his hands snatched them from his bed side and clothed himself. He immediately took the ground, his tall fury towering over me. “What are you doing in my bedroom?” His breathy voice echoed as his fiery eyes struck fear into me. “It’s—o—our—bed—room” I stuttered “No!” He exclaimed, glaring at me. “This is my bedroom, you have your bedroom, down the hall. You will sleep there, you will wake there and you will not enter into my room unless I bring you here myself” My lips trembled with words that couldn’t seem to form. What the hell was he saying? I only stayed in that room because we were not yet married, now we are, what does this devil mean?! “But we are married” The words came out of my mouth like air forced out of a ballon and his eyes glared with irr