Nathan

5 hours before the engagement announcement

“She is here.” Collen, my trusted right-handed man, informed me over the phone.

“Is she okay?” I asked, finishing the vodka in one swift gulp.

“It looks like. But I can’t assure you about the future.”

“Keep an eye on her. I am on the way.”

I took my keys, wallet from the coffee table of my living room and ran towards the basement parking of my apartment. Other times I would have taken my time to choose between my five cars when you had an impressive collection of vehicles from all over the world. You wanted to show that off.

Men loved a few things in their life. A good bottle of alcohol, a massive amount on his bank account, cars, a woman to satisfy who would warm his bed at night (in my case, I needed a few. One was not enough for my enormous appetite), and respect or fear in other eyes.

I was proud to confess I had everything tucked in. All these things were present for me whenever I needed them, which was a blessing, and I was truly grateful for that. I needed to go to church more now with my mother, the only time I spent time with her, although I missed it for a couple of months. If it were any other mother, they would have nagged, cried, but my mother, Amanda Hall, didn’t need to take that route with us.

My mother never pushed us to do something that we didn’t want to, both for my younger brother Luke and me. We always had the sovereignty to make our decision.

“You don’t want to, no need to do that.” The rule that my mother followed was that she believed that firmly and made sure we strolled to the path our hearts guided.

I remembered making my decision when I was five years old. It was a selection between pancakes and cereal for breakfast. My mother told me to make my mind up on what I wanted. I chose pancakes. The next day, I needed to do that again between apple juice and orange juice.

That day, I understood something. Choosing things for myself gave me the power that I enjoyed a lot. When I was in control of my life and the step when I made my choice for my life, I had the rein of the horse in my hand. The supreme feeling was just too great. The dominance was what I liked; the authority was what I enjoyed; the independence was what I loved.

At a very young age, my mother made it clear to both of our brothers we needed to fight if we wanted something.

“If you don’t go for what you want, others will come and whip that under your nose.” I didn’t understand her that day. It gave me a break. I was only seven but got her point after I started taking my steps into this fucked-up world.

My father, Richard Hall, was a scoundrel, a short and sweet way to describe him. If you asked me to describe the man in three words, I would choose the filthiest words from the English dictionary. He only thought with his dick, sometimes you needed to use your fucking brain, which God gave you. Nah, my debauch sperm donor was rebellious about that.

That’s another thing that the man was good at with the number and share market that helped him establish the business and name in Chicago.

He listened to his brain, 100% unreliable theory. Why would he? When the lower part of his body was more active than any other portion. My dad was hardly a good business executive. Fact. He was not capable of keeping his business afloat if my mother didn’t help him with the business deal. My mother was the actual force in his life that kept him up, both in his professional and personal life.

With time, I got to comprehend the bond or the marriage that my parents shared. Like any other parents of my friends in school, my parents were different. My mother was my father’s partner not only in the bed but also in his business too. When other mothers came to pick up their son from school, my mother was busy in the conference room to crack the million-dollar deals. And trust me, I was proud of that; I was happy to have a mother who is unique and strong from others.

Something exceptional only for me.

“Get here soon. Things are turning into obnoxious.” Collen messaged me.

“Shit.”

I pushed the accelerator of my BMW to run through the highway. Thank God the roads were clear, it was only 8:30 on Sunday, so getting to the freeway without traffic was a phenomenon. I indeed considered that a godsend miracle.

I thanked the guy up in the sky after parking the car on the block of the nightclub. I walked into the club. Collen was standing near the main exit. He took me to the place where all the show was taking place, which was not the private cabin as I thought. They were in the middle of the dance floor. Every single person around them was whispering, some were laughing.

Everyone was holding their phone. I didn’t need to check their phone to know that the cameras were open; they already captured a video of the circus on these phones. Tomorrow night, or maybe a second after this, everything would be viral on social media. With hashtags and captions.

And there she was, her head was lower than a criminal who is on the murder trial, these people around here were the juries who would decide her future with posting the videos online, and the woman and man in front of her was the judge. The woman was mostly the criminal; the man was too, more than what she did, but she would be the one to judge.

Made a mistake, both female and male are part of that. I was betting my entire fortune, which was near a billion, that the woman would get the punishment while the man walked away with a smile. Our society had different ways with genders, nothing changed. The way women lived in the 1950s and the way they lived in this 20th-century world, very little has changed for the female.

They had jobs now, but promotions were booked for males. They have their own identity, but somehow they lost that being someone’s Mrs. daughter, the mother.

I stood a little away from the troop, so I could see everything, listen to all the words that would be spoken to her, but they couldn’t see me, nor did she. For the past year, that was, things were going. I stayed back in the shadow to protect her with my everything while she dwelled on the light and shone brightly the way she deserved.

She deserved way more than anything the world had to offer. Despite that, that would hardly be enough for her.

“You fucking bitch, what the hell are you doing with my husband?” The tall woman in front of her shouted. “Just because you are young doesn’t mean you can lure my husband in the dark.” The woman would be in her early or mid-30s. “You home wrecker. Slut.”

“I.....I….I…” She opened her mouth but sealed it shut. She was shaking, she fisted her hands into small balls, tears were dropping.

“What are you doing with her?” The woman turned to her husband.

The man was younger than the woman, the age gap was visible, a lot younger, I would say ten to twelve at least. He would be around 25 to 26, not more than that. I was sure he would marry the woman for her wealth. Of course, of course, when you found a woman with a million on banks in a vulnerable state, you took advantage of her to jam-packed your pocket with some easy money.

The yelling woman was Sarah Parker, the proprietor of a textile company. Sarah’s father, Mr. Daniel, passed away a year ago due to cardiac arrest, leaving his hard work and a great deal of fortune for his daughter. Sarah was divorced from her first husband with a son. An Aussie man whom she met on her trip with friends in Paris. They fell in love, got married after three days of the meeting, and moved to Australia. The fairy tale didn’t last long as, after a year and a half later, she was divorced and moved back to Chicago with her two-month son.

After her father’s death, Jacob made a grand entrance into her life. He was her father’s PA, but the two fell in love and got married within a month of meeting. “Her true love” was what she said in her interview. I said bullshit after reading the two-page long article.

Watching Sarah Parker’s “one true love” slipping towards the divorce was moderately satisfying, but not much when she was crossing the line with the one who was mine.

She was mine. I didn’t care what everyone thought or what’s right and what’s wrong. All I recognized was she was mine and would allow no one in this world to disrespect her.

Both husband and wife needed to pay the price. Husband Jacob for using her as a toy for his pleasure and wife Sarah for yelling at her, humiliating her in front of the world.

I pulled out the phone from my pocket and called my brother Luke. He should be with my parents as it was Sunday night, dinner with family night. In fact, I was supposed to be there after I finished my work here, but it looked like something more shocking was about to take place tonight.

“Where are you, Nat?” Luke asked. “Mom will kill you if you avert tonight. You have already done it for the past two months.”

“Listen, brother.” I tried to slow down the engine that was running fidgety. “Tell mom to arrange an additional pair of plates beside my chair.”

“Why?” he asked me anxiously.

“I am bringing Mrs. Nathan Hall to introduce all to you.”

“Who is she?”

“Someone you all know.”

I cut the call and made my way towards the dance floor; The lack of dialogue jaded me on Sarah’s part. She was nothing but a barking dog with filthy words that was enough to give you a nightmare at night.

“Hello, Sarah.” I stood in front of Sarah, shielding her from the woman’s eyes that were full of fury. “It’s nice seeing you again.” I smiled at her.

“Nathan.” She frowned. “What are you doing here? Were you here the whole time?” she asked after looking left and right.

“Unfortunately, yes.” I smiled and asked: “Can I ask why you are shouting at Miss. Lyra McCoy?”

The whispers were getting louder. The entire Chicago knows the dynamites of our families, so when they saw McCoy and Hall together, they assumed the worst without even wasting a blink. I got the point that our families had provided some entertainment, gossip, some shows, dramas. The ton had satisfied their need by watching us fighting, but that didn’t mean similar things were going to happen this time.

Tonight, a big atom bomb was about to blast in Chicago, so hard that it would destroy all their contentment to tremor.

“This bitch.”

“Ah-ha. I recommend you to choose your word extremely carefully, Sarah. You are talking to my fiancée.” I smiled and stood beside Lyra.

My hand was around her waist. This was the first time she was in my arms. Lyra McCoy was under my eyes when I first saw her. She was vulnerable at that time, or should I say tired. Whatever that was, I couldn’t see anything else, couldn’t think of anyone else.

At the first sight, this woman doomed me to other female spices, and I didn’t mind at all.

“Are you okay, baby?” I pressed a kiss on her temple. “I am sorry. I am late.”

“What the hell is going on?” Sarah’s eyes paced between me and Lyra for a few seconds to her husband too. Our surroundings were getting loud with whispers. Of course, this is one of the rarest things that ever took place in Chicago.

“Were the enemies joining hands through marrying off their children?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“This is McCoy and Halls. They can never join their hands.”

“No woman can tame the beast inside Nathan Hall. She is most importantly not.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Are they getting married?”

Superficially, I could hear all the whispers. God had blessed me with a super hearing.

I was feeling the trembling body of Lyra as my hands rested on her waist. This woman got scared too easily. At first, I thought she was like her other siblings. McCoy’s owns the place that they walked in with their confidence and we-don’t-give-any-fuck attitude, evidently, the younger one lacked in that department significantly.

I had known her for almost five months now, never asked how, as that got me involved in some stalking, and I was proud to announce I was pretty good at that.

From the moment I saw her to now, I developed something for her which I didn’t recognize, so sad, I couldn’t label the feeling. I liked her, sure. She was a lovely person and any temperate human being was obliged to adore her.

Exactly not the type of woman I would go for. I prefer blond, petite, confident in bed, high maintenance, a little spoil maybe, everything that was opposite of Lyra McCoy.

Lyra was different from all the women I shared beds with within my thirty-year lifetime. She was tall, a little taller than average girls, and proudly stood at 5 feet 7 inches, somehow a perfect match with my 6 feet 3 inches. Waist long auburn hair with white as milk body complexion, shy, always heads down. I didn’t remember seeing her smiling ever in the past five months.

Yet, I was drowned in her as iron was in a magnet.

“She is your fiancée?” Sarah frowned. “She was with my husband flirting, Nathan. You better break the engagement.” She crossed her hands over her chest.

“Your husband invited my fiancée. He hit on her a couple of times before, too. This is not the first time he was with another woman. Take my advice and divorce him. You don’t need a man, especially if that one is like your a-hole husband.”

“I did nothing wrong,” Jacob screamed.

“Sure. The woman on your bed last night was a living doll. Or the woman in your car the day before was a mannequin.” I smirked. “You sure have some kink, buddy with dolls and these kinds of stuff.” People surrounding us laughed “Good for you. If you are happy and satisfied, what can we do about that?” I gave him a thumbs-up. “But my fiancée and I have a family dinner to attend, so we take our leave. I wish you the best, Sarah. You are an intelligent woman enough to know what to do.”

I intertwined Lyra’s hand to mine and made our grand departed while the phone’s camera was flashing towards us.

It took us ten minutes, and I was seven minutes late when I stepped into my parents’ house with Lyra by my side.

The ride was serene; she was quiet, so I didn’t pressure her to talk.

“Nathan,” Lyra whispered. “I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to come here.”

“Why not? This is your in-law’s house, isn’t it?”

“That was a lie you told to save me, and I appreciate that. But there’s no need to involve our family in this.” She murmured. “I should go home.”

“I told my mother I would bring my fiancée home tonight. You can at least do that for me, can’t you?”

She stopped and looked at me. The effect of my words is clear in her eyes. The way she was biting her lower lips was the evidence she was thinking about my proposal.

I got to understand her perfectly well in these past months; she was a compassionate person, a gentle soul with a tender heart. And that was why she would stay with me and have dinner with my family.

“It’s a thank you for what you did. After that, we are even. No more lies.”

“Deal.” I winked at her.

She shook her head in disbelief, but let me lead her to the dining room where all the Halls were rounded up for the weekend dinner.

One and only rule that our father compelled us to follow. This family dinner was an important ritual for my great-grandfather. He was a big family guy. The only man of this Halls clan who was logical and honest, after him we were born a bastard.

He was a loveable, easy-going guy while we were the messed-up ones.

The next generation would be messier than me, mark my word.

“You are late.” My mother put down the dish on the table and spared a glance at me. The classic Amanda Hall’s way of conveying the news to you is that she was upset or irritated with me.

In this case of mine, it irritated her. I promised her thousands of times in the last few times that I would come home for dinner, but I didn’t. I broke all of them brazenly.

One of the reasons, or should I say the one-time reason, was the one who was rooted beside my brother’s side right now. Miss. Veronica Gomez.

I met her in Greece last summer. He met in the pub of the hotel we were staying at. I was alone while she was with her family. Had two to six drinks, flirting, some innocent touches, laughs and at the end of the night we both ended up on the bed together. We fucked until we were dehydrated.

“Sorry, mom.” I kissed her forehead and hugged her. “I missed you.”

“If you did, you would have come home sooner.” My mother frowned so hard that her brow came down by an inch. “What? What about your fiancée? You got engaged and didn’t bother to notify us about that? Nathan Hall, you are upsetting me with your actions.

“If I knew my fiancée before, I would have introduced her to you guys,” I said under my breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” I turned around and looked at Lyra. “Here is your daughter-in-law. Lyra McCoy.”

And everything stopped. When I said everything, I meant every little thing. The facial expression on my mother, who was upset merely two seconds ago, was now astonished, or was it, terror, I couldn’t identify that.

On the other hand, my brother was smiling, amusement was peeking from his eyes. He was staring at Lyra. I expected to find abhorrence, disgust for her, the way Lyra’s older brother Brian behaved with Luke at parties after seeing his little bride in his arms. I thought Luke would evaluate Lyra on the same scale, but he didn’t. Sometimes I forget my younger brother was the good one, the only sane man of his clan, way different from all the fucked-up things our father or we did.

He was a virtuous egg, way more upright than me or any other man in Chicago.

“Isn’t she Cora McCoy’s daughter?” my father asked, withdrawing his eyes from his phone.

Of course, he would remember that woman even when he was dead. My first and only love was how my dad remembered the woman who almost broke our family and business.

The one who was responsible for the vinegary source of my parent's marriage for a long, long time, still that woman haunted my mother and threatened her marriage.

Again, I didn’t know how I felt about that woman or my father. But it was bitter for sure.

“She is.” I kissed my mother’s forehead gently. “Come to let’s have dinner, everybody. I am starving.”

A few more awkward seconds later, thankfully, we all settled down at the table and food began to fly around the table.

Nobody talked, not a single word was spoken, even our mom’s helping hand. Mrs. Harrison was careful not to make a sound and trust this woman was a walking bomb. She couldn’t help but make a noise every time she walked into a room, either she dropped plates, or she talked. And oh boy, her voice was booming as if she was using a speaker to talk and ear-splitting for the one who was listening.

But that didn’t mean we had a lovely, serene dinner, we had Veronica Gomez on the table or anything else we needed. This firecracker spoke non-stop. And I have never known that obsession with her.

The time I had with her was limited to the bed, so she screamed all the time, moaned senselessly, but there was no speaking between us. But seeing her at this table bubbling with rubbish to Lyra, also how loud she was, how easily she could fight for “The Second Harrison” title, I was grateful that we didn’t have any conversation at all.

She would have killed the essence of the moment easily.

Good luck to Luke.

I drove Lyra to her family's home after the most tranquil dinner I have ever had in my life. The look my mom gave me from across the table the whole time told me we had to talk, and I sighed at that.

“This is the third time you have saved me from embarrassment? I never told you that, but thanks for all your help.” Lyra whispered, it was low but enough for me to pick it up.

“This was the sixth time I witness your discomfiture.” I sighed.

“No, it was third.”

“I remember Lyra. It was sixth.”

“When were the other three times then?”

I parked the car outside McCoy’s mansion and killed the engine. I knew the answer. Remember, every single thing about that, even the date, time, day, very little detail, but tonight I am not in the mood of revealing things like this.

Tonight was not the night of confession. I felt that in my bones, so I let her stay in wonder.

“When were the other three times?” she repeated.

“Think. You will get the answer.” I smirked. “You are home.” I pointed her to the bright palace of her.

“But.”

I cut her off, “Go home. Take a rest. We will talk tomorrow.”

“But.”

“Goodnight, sweetie. Have a delightful night.” I winked, and she groaned.

I started driving as soon as she entered her house, and now I would be on her mind until we met next, or I would divulge what the other three times we met are.

I smiled and made my way towards one of our casinos before heading home.