Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Especially Brooklyn.
I add, “His disappointment with my relationship with his daughter should not be taken to board meetings. I’m sure you can agree, Dominick?” I use his first name deliberately.
“Don’t make me regret supporting you in this,” he says flatly, in an unfamiliar tone.
“I wouldn’t,” I assure him. I think he’s finished, but the old man continues to pry.
“What happened between you and Brook’s father?”
“I love her, and he doesn’t want me with her. It’s that simple,” I tell him, lying to his face.
There’s a history between him and me that her old man has never let on about before. Perhaps out of embarrassment. He didn’t watch the chess pieces close enough.
A business deal went south for Chambers, and I’m all too aware he figured out the details on that one. After all, I bought stocks, merged a company, and left him with a shell of what he thought he was buying. It’s not the first time someone in these circles has done something similar.
It did, however, tank his ten million investment. I didn’t even profit half of what he lost, but it was worth it for the sheer joy of it back in the day. Almost five years ago. There are years of my father and hers fucking one another over. It’s natural when businesses compete; there can only be so many partners in deals. It was a little tit-for-tat, I suppose.
“Wasn’t there something before?” Mr. Michaels questions, and I shake my head in denial.
“So it’s just that you’ve taken to his daughter?” Mr. Michaels asks, and I nod shortly. He didn’t much like me before, but the feeling was mutual and we could entertain being in the same room with each other.
“Though you are engaged?”
“Yes. Of course we are.”
He nods slowly and glances down, a telltale sign of disbelief for a fraction of a moment.
“I wouldn’t be with her if I didn’t love her,” I tell him a bit too quickly, staring into his eyes so he knows I’m telling the truth… even if I’m not. “My team is still determining the individuals responsible for the event that occurred,” I add vaguely, and I’m surprised when his brow raises in shock.
“Individuals?” he questions. “As in plural?”
“It’s to be determined,” I answer pointedly, then glance at the door.
“I trust that you will keep me in the loop, should I be of use?”
The first bit of relief washes over me as I nod and open the door for us to exit.
“Of course. As soon as I know, you will know as well, and I’ll formally address the board with your advisement.”
Again, another lie.
However, I think he believes this one.
No one deserves shit from either myself or Brook. Not a single fucking one of them.
She’s mine.
That’s all they need to know.
Well, that and that anyone who fucks with her will deal with me from now on. Not momentarily.
But for the foreseeable future.
CHAPTER 13
Brooklyn
My pen tap, tap, taps on the desk, and it’s not until the guy next to me with a buzz cut and clean shave gives me a side-eye that I stop and sit up a bit straighter.
Calculus is boring as fuck, and I have no idea why I have to take it. I won’t use it, and whatever I do with my life, I won’t use letters in equations. … if for some odd reason I have to, I can google it.
The professor's voice drones on, his deep timbre billowing in the large lecture auditorium. If I slip out, I’m sure he’ll have no idea. There are at least sixty students in this room, and it’s obvious the ones at the very front truly give a fuck.
Me and my stiletto heels that match my emerald-green velvet jacket dress do not give a fuck… but I’m trying.
Ronan said he wants me to make him proud… so I’m here at least.
Sighing and then clearing my throat, I glance down at my notes and back up to the board. It’s pretty much what I gathered from the textbook. I just don’t know that I’ll be able to remember all the fucking equations for the test.
Unease spreads through me at the thought of failing. I’m a damn self-fulfilling prophecy, and I know I am. Aspen’s told me that more than once. I feel like I’ll fail, so I don’t show up, ensuring I do fail.
But what does it matter if I don’t make it?
It’s not like anyone ever expected that I would. It’s fucking calculus. I'm sure anyone in their right mind will bet I’ll finish this semester with a C or lower. I’m lost in thought, so the bell ringing catches me by surprise, and I look down to see I’ve only doodled “Mrs. Wolf” on the notebook for the past few minutes.
I huff a laugh, then shut the notebook and slip it into my nude carryall. I check my phone and find nothing from Aspen or Ro, but I scroll socials and see several posts about upcoming events. Instantly, I toss my phone into my purse.