Thirty Minutes to Heartbreak Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Nadia Scrieva

  “Is this okay?” she asked him.

  “That’s great!” Asher commented. “Whoa. I can’t believe how… Medea! Medea, are you alright?”

  Para expertly faked a collapse (aided by industrial large-mammal tranquilizers) and Asher moved forward to dutifully catch her. She placed a hand over her forehead dramatically.

  “Gosh. I think I used too much of my energy. I haven’t gotten the hang of that quite yet.”

  “Don’t worry, you’re doing great! You said you barely slept in three days, so you must be running low on strength. We should stop training for now and get you home to rest.”

  Just then, as if on cue, Para’s stomach happened to growl. They both looked down at it, and Para laughed lightly. “I guess I haven’t eaten much either. It’s been so busy at the hospital…”

  “Then maybe I should take you out for something to eat first.”

  “Sounds great.”

  Asher flew, with Para still in his arms, to a nearby bistro cafe. When they were inside, he placed her down on a barstool. A burly man wearing an apron came to the counter and smiled at them.

  “What can I get you two lovebirds?”

  “Uh, we’re not together,” said Asher awkwardly.

  “The strongest drink you’ve got, please,” Para answered promptly.

  The man behind the counter raised an eyebrow. “Well, that would be some fine scotch, young lady. But are you sure you can handle it, and this early in the morning?”

  “I’ll have a double, straight up,” Para confirmed.

  Asher raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Uh, Medea. Are you sure that’s a good idea? You could barely stand up a few moments ago.”

  “Listen, Ash. I’m just really stressed, okay? I desperately need a drink.”

  “What’s wrong?” Asher asked with evident concern.

  “What do you think is wrong?” asked Para, throwing the scotch to the back of her throat as soon as it had been poured. She nodded to the bartender. “Another, please. Keep them coming.”

  The bartender glanced at Asher. “I hope you’re going to take care of her when she can’t remember her own name?”

  Asher nodded to confirm this while Para inwardly mused that the dark-haired deva didn’t even know her name. He turned to look at her with worry.

  “Come on, Medea. Tell me what’s on your mind. Is it your job that’s getting you down?”

  “It’s your dumb friend,” Para answered in a melancholy voice. “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten involved with him. I have been calling and calling, but I haven’t been able to get in touch with him all week. The Charity Ball is supposed to be tonight, but he hasn’t even called me to confirm my attendance!”

  Amara had indeed called her brother’s personal line a few dozen times from Para’s number, just to make it seem like she had missed him. Luckily, she had known that Thornton had been busy with Pax at the time.

  “Oh, is that all? Thorn had to leave on a surprise… business trip last week. He came back late last night and he was really… jet-lagged. He probably passed out as soon as he got home.”

  “He could have called to say he was leaving! He could have called from wherever he went! But I received no communication at all! I hate this. Another scotch, please.”

  The giant bartender narrowed his eyes and stared at the small girl suspiciously, but he complied.

  “He really would have called if he could have,” Asher insisted. “There was no reception where he went.”

  “Ash, you’re really sweet to make excuses for your friend. But he should be telling me these things, not you! I don’t even know if I want to go to the ball with him tonight. I think I could use the time off work to sleep instead.”

  “No, no! Medea, it’s the biggest party ever, and it’s a whole lot of fun! You should totally come and—well, you should save a dance for me.”

  “Really?” said Para, looking up at him shyly. “You’ll dance with me tonight, Ash?”

  “Of course.” Asher smiled and stuttered a bit in his answer. “Why not? Thorn won’t mind. He’s usually so busy in these types of things, so I’m sure we’ll get a chance to dance together plenty and he’ll hardly even notice.”

  Para smiled and spoke with a slight slur. “Sso, what can I expect from thiss charity ball thing?”

  “It’s just a lot of rich people,” said Asher with a shrug. “They talk about how rich they are, and about all their plans to become even richer. Then they eat and dance. I enjoy the eating and dancing part!”

  “I think I will too. At leasst I know you’ll dance with me, ssso that’s a great reassson to ssshow up…”

  Asher smiled at Para, unable to resist thinking about how lovely she was—right before she collapsed again, toppling right off her barstool.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe you got her drunk, Ash.”

  “Sorry, man. I’d somewhat forgotten how human girls react to small amounts of alcohol. Amara could handle everything I could.”

  “Dude. Don’t you ever think? You gave my date to the ball a gallon of scotch. On this day, of all days.”

  “Thorn, she was freaking out! She hadn’t heard from you in days, and she didn’t even know if you still wanted her to go to the ball with you…”

  “I was in outer fucking space. I had to help Pax. Couldn’t you cover for me?”

  “Oh, yeah! I totally would have, man. Except for the fact that right before you left you tore a crater into my gut and left me for dead. I was unconscious for several fucking days, so no, I didn’t have a chance to cover for you while I was regaining my health.”

  “What’s going on? Why are there two men in my bedroom?” asked a groaning female voice.

  Thornton and Asher both turned to look at Para.

  “Are you feeling better, Medea?” asked Thornton, going to her side.

  “I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked sarcastically.

  “Medea, I’m sorry. I had to leave unexpectedly…”

  “I know. Ash told me. Business trip. Whatever.”

  “You don’t believe that?”

  “I’ll tell you what I think, Mr. President.” Para struggled to raise herself to her elbows, and placed a hand to her forehead as though in pain from the drinking. “I think that your…” She made a sloppy gesture. “Oh-so-sudden disappearance had something to do with Pax. Am I right?”

  Thornton and Asher glanced at each other.

  “I knew it! I knew it. I don’t even know why you want me to go to this stupid ball!”

  “Medea, please. I really need…”

  “No, Thorn. Shut up. Can you honestly tell me that if Pax walked in here right now and said she’d take you back you wouldn’t drop me in a heartbeat?”

  Thornton was silent.

  “Yeah, I thought so.” Para glanced at her wristwatch and reached for a bottle of water at her bedside, along with some pills that were there. She placed the pills on her tongue and took a swig of the water. “I haven’t slept in three days. I’m nervous and cranky, and drunk. These pills will put me right to sleep, which I desperately need so I can go to work tomorrow. Can you both leave my room now? Take the window, it’s faster.”

  “Medea, I really need you to come to the ball with me. Please. It’s really important. Don’t you want to wear the dress I got for you? You took a bullet for that dress!”

  Para threw herself back down on the mattress, pulling the blankets over her head. She ordered in a grumpy voice, “Leave me alone! I need to sleep.”

  Thornton looked to Asher frantically, while gesturing to the lump on the bed and mouthing the words: “Do something!”

  “Uh, Medea. You really should try to make it to the ball,” Asher urged awkwardly. “Don’t you remember you promised me a dance?”

  The lump on the bed was quiet, and the boys both thought she had fallen asleep. Finally, she spoke. “If I wake up in time for the damned ball, maybe I’ll come. Now both of you, get out of my house!”

  “Thank you,
” said Thornton, breathing a sigh of relief and grabbing Asher. He blasted out of the window.

  What the boys didn’t know was that under the blanket, Para had been smiling.

  Chapter 18: The Charity Ball

  “Don’t you all look lovely tonight?” cooed Rose, in her charming social tone. A small gathering of people surrounded her section of the ballroom, hanging on her every word. “On behalf of Kalgren Tech, I would like to thank you all for making the trip down here for our special little get together. It’s my favorite day of the year! I know many of you have just arrived in from lengthy international flights, and I encourage you to make yourselves at home while you’re here: my home is your home, but more importantly…”

  Rose raised her glass of wine, displaying an arm sheathed in sparkling transparent lace, and grinned at her audience. “My liquor cabinets are your liquor cabinets!”

  A jovial cheer rose from the crowd, as everyone raised their hands holding their drinks. Only Rose Kalgren could make a room full of the world’s top executives, diplomats, ambassadors, and even royalty let loose and laugh.

  “My dear friends,” Rose spoke again, “your donations to the various charities that this ball supports will play a powerful role in changing the world, and creating a better quality of life for all humanity. You can all enjoy yourselves, dance until dawn, and get completely wasted tonight, knowing that you’ve made the world a better place!”

  The audience responded favorably again, and Rose used the opportunity to lean away from the microphone and towards her son. She whispered in a low tone, “Thorn, where is she? The press is here. They’re already snapping photos. They already have thousands of photos of you standing alone!”

  “I don’t know, Mom,” Thornton whispered back a bit anxiously as he straightened his tie. “I’ve been calling her.”

  “Call again! I knew you screwed up by asking that dumb bimbo to such an important event.”

  Thornton sighed and continued to dial, again and again. What kind of sleeping pills had Medea taken? She must be out cold. He knew it was his fault. He shouldn’t have raced off into space after Pax and left her…

  "Hi, you've reached Medea. I'm not available now, but please leave a message and I'll return your call as soon as possible!"

  The poor girl. She’d had no word from him for over a week. She’d probably been wondering whether he gave a hoot about her. Thornton ran a hand through his hair in exasperation.

  Want me to go and get her, man? Asher asked telepathically. Thornton looked across the room to where Asher was standing with his family. Amelia Burnson was dressed up and smiling, but Asher had a very concerned look on his face.

  Thornton shook his head slightly. No, Ash. Thanks. I just hope she shows up.

  A sudden commotion caused everyone’s heads to turn to the ballroom entrance. The press immediately rushed to the top of the stairs, snapping photos of two late guests. Through the thick crowd of people, all anyone could manage to see were glimpses of black shimmering fabric.

  The doorman loudly introduced the couple in his booming baritone. “Ladies and gentlemen, Ms. Amara Kalgren, and Mr. Cliff Edge!”

  “Shit,” muttered Asher, crushing the glass of wine in his hand.

  “Oh my god, is that really Cliff?” squealed one of the waitresses.

  Another waitress was standing on her toes to look over the reporters. “It’s him! He’s smokin’ hot. Can you believe it? Cliff Edge!”

  “The famous actor?” asked a male waiter who was standing nearby.

  “He models too,” a waitress explained. “He looked positively dreamy in some recent cologne ads.”

  “All of you!” hissed Rose at her wait-staff. “Quit gawking and get back to work. I want dinner to be served promptly at seven o’clock.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Kalgren,” they answered, scurrying off to their respective places. When it came to parties at the Kalgren compound, Rose had the talent of seeming to appear everywhere at once. She now stalked toward her daughter, parting a sea of reporters.

  Amara wore a simple sleeveless black dress with matching black gloves. The young girl turned to smile at her approaching mother.

  “You’re late, Amara,” Rose chastised in a low whisper that the reporters couldn't hear, capitalizing on her daughter’s sensitive, deva hearing. “What are you thinking by bringing that guy as your date?”

  “Mom!” exclaimed Amara, ignoring Rose’s death glare and words. The younger woman reached out and hugged her mother and kissed her cheek happily, before gesturing to her date. “You remember Cliff, don't you, mom?”

  “Of course!” said Rose with a mock cheerfulness when she noticed the camera flashes. “How are you tonight, Mr. Edge?”

  “Wonderful, Mrs. Kalgren,” Cliff responded, making a respectful bow. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “A picture!” called out a reporter. “A picture of the beautiful mother and daughter of Kalgren Tech!”

  Amara and Rose instantly assumed position for the photo op, posing with an arm around each other and shining their dazzling front-page smiles at the reporters. The press went wild.

  Asher had turned his back to the exchange once he had seen Cliff respectfully bow to Rose. His jealousy was consuming, and it was all he could do to keep his pulsating prana in check. Not only was that creep monopolizing Amara, his Amara, but he was even seducing Rose! Rose was his second mother, and had been for his entire life. It was disgusting to watch another man move in on the two women, throwing about his charm and good looks. Amara and Rose were his family!

  “Calm down, honey,” Amelia warned softly.

  “Hey. Hey, man! Snap out of it,” Thornton hissed, quickly moving to his friend’s side. “You have to relax. Now.”

  Asher heard Thornton’s voice, and nodded through his pain. He knew he should be cool, but he couldn’t help feeling overpowered by the sting of betrayal and anger—he did not understand why he still felt possessive over a woman he no longer had any claim on. A woman he had willingly renounced. The press was already inundating Amara with questions, and half of them began flocking to Asher as well.

  “Miss Kalgren, are you no longer dating Mr. Burnson?”

  “Mr. Burnson, exactly how long has it been since you and Miss Kalgren split up? We can see from the expression on your face that you are surprised to see her with another man…”

  “Miss Kalgren, how long have you and Mr. Edge been an item?”

  “Mr. Burnson, how does it feel to see the love of your life here with another man?”

  “My sister will answer all your questions. Excuse us, please,” said Thornton with a diplomatic smile, guiding Asher safely away from the reporters. Of course, the danger had been exclusively to the well-being of the reporters, and not to Asher. Or so Thornton thought.

  “Why did she bring him of all people?” Asher asked with a clenched jaw. “She used to tell me that she found him boring and shallow.”

  “She’s just trying to get under your skin, man. Relax!”

  “She seems to be enjoying herself,” Asher remarked as he stole a glance at Amara laughing on Cliff’s arm.

  “And you should enjoy yourself too,” Thornton said. “Get some champagne! Chill out. I have to mingle with the guests. Hopefully Medea shows up soon, or else I’m screwed in the papers tomorrow.”

  The announcer then cleared his throat again before bellowing loudly once more:

  “Ladies and gentlemen, introducing two very special guests! The daughter of the beloved actress Bridget Burnson, the lovely Dr. Pax Burnson, accompanied by a handsome gentleman that we all know and admire…”

  Thornton closed his eyes. Who was Pax with?

  “Relax, Thorn,” Asher mocked softly. “Have some champagne.”

  “Shut up,” Thornton hissed. “I don’t need this right now.”

  “Please give a warm welcome to Raymond Burnson, widower of Bridget Burnson.”

  The crowd murmured in sympathy and appreciation for the poor man.


  Thornton opened his eyes in surprise. Pax hadn’t brought along a young male model like Amara; she had come to the ball with her father. He felt a small smile slowly spread across his face at how adorable this was. Pax had always put family first, loving them with complete loyalty even when they abandoned her.

  His smile disappeared. She used to love him like that.

  “Damn,” muttered Asher. “She brought my stupid brother as her date? That’s not fair. Why am I always the one who gets his face rubbed in it?”

  Thornton put his hand on Asher’s shoulder reassuringly. Before he could answer his friend, he was interrupted by his parents, who had moved across the room to join him near the Burnsons.

  “Thorn,” said Rose in a hushed whisper. “This is great. She can save this thing for us. Go and greet her. Ask her to dance with you.”

  He looked at Pax smiling and hugging her father’s arm as the cameras flashed all around her. He knew that despite her sweet, feminine display she was internally cursing the annoying bright lights and attention. Her red gown glittered in the spotlight, contrasting sharply with her dark hair.

  “I can’t, Mom,” he answered in a low voice.

  “Do what your mother is asking of you, boy,” barked Vincent.

  Thornton sighed and rolled his eyes skyward at his interfering parents. “Fine,” he muttered, walking towards Pax.

  “Rose,” complained Amelia softly to her friend. “I really don’t think that's a good idea. You shouldn’t be encouraging...”

  “When it comes to the future of my children, I am a desperate woman,” Rose said quietly. “I can’t let my son throw his life away on some floozy.”

  “But darling, if you push them together too hard, you’ll end up driving them apart,” Amelia advised, glancing at her own son. “Trust me; I know.”

  When Thornton had navigated two-thirds of his way across the densely crowded room toward Pax, he was forced to pause. A foreign ambassador had stopped to compliment him on a recent acquisition that he hadn’t even heard about, but he politely and graciously improvised without letting Pax out of his line of sight.