Rival: A Billionaire Romance Novel

by Amy Hoxton

It never came, and I’m glad it didn’t. There was only a set amount of change I could deal with before needing some time off, and while the company could survive without me, it wouldn’t be able to do so forever.

  The competition had started getting serious, thanks to the shift in management. Our takeover was thwarted and Reynolds senior gave up the CEO chair. Lucy took his seat and just like that, the conflict began anew. Sins of the father and all that bullshit.

  I was fairly certain that neither of us wanted it. It simply happened, be it because destiny or some other make-believe nonsense.

  Lucy’s absence left a hole bigger than I allowed myself to believe. She was naturally good at her job, and it felt great to know I had a friend in that damn building. It wasn’t even the sex, though I can’t say I didn’t enjoy that.

  Five years, almost six, had passed since I joined that company and Lucy had been the first person to actually give a fuck about me without having a hidden motive. I had become an expert at predicting how people would behave around me, they all followed similar patterns.

  She broke through without effort, though all good things must come to an end.

  My gaze swept the vast emptiness of my office. The whirlwind of negativity growing in my chest swelled up in size, becoming a maelstrom of biblical proportions.

  I began to actively hate that place and what It stood for, with every fiber of my being. Even the painting, that still sat on the easel by the window. I hadn’t touched in what felt like an eternity. In those days I barely even looked at it, fearing I might destroy it in a fit of rage — the same one I fought hard to control five years before.

  Perhaps locking myself up in a dimly lit room for hours every day hadn’t been a smart decision. I could have brightened my office up, added all kinds of bells and whistles to make it feel homely. It wouldn’t have helped in the slightest. If anything, it would have probably made me dread going home, given the similarities.

  The lines between my private life and my job became blurred as time went on. It was no secret I hated it, though I put up a friendly enough face with my associates.

  I still remember how I came close to ditching everything and running away on more than one occasion. Not everyone could afford to retire at my age. I couldn’t deny it, the temptation was definitely there. Day after day I felt myself inching closer to it.

  Quitting everything was all but a pipe dream. As I flirted with the idea, however, I gradually morphed into a hermit. Letters inviting me to events and fundraisers piled up and stood tall and proud on the small table near the main entrance door to my house, just waiting to be opened or thrown away. I didn’t see the point in subjecting myself to further torture, and besides, chances were I would have ran into Lucy.

  I missed her, obviously. I kept trying to convince myself she had been just a secretary, and failed miserably each and every single time. It wasn’t just the sex, or rather, it wasn’t just sex. There was a connection between us, however feeble it may have been at times. I couldn’t deny it and I was certain that neither could she. If only I’d realized that sooner, perhaps things would have gone differently.

  I made a mistake, a big one at that.

  My phone buzzed in my breast pocket and jolted me awake, dragging me back into reality in the blink of an eye.

  I pulled out and reflexively declined the call, without even registering who dared bother me on my private line. My sister, it appeared. I thanked my subconscious for making that decision for me and turned off my phone.

  Annalise was the last person I wanted to talk to. We’d never been close to begin with, and I fully intended on maintaining the status quo. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last conversation we’d had, though I was fairly sure it ended with her screaming at my face.

  Our relationship went sour when my father chose me to lead the company rather than her, and it hadn’t recovered since. I couldn’t blame her for how she felt, God knows I would have been furious too, had I actually wanted the position.

  I was, to some extent. We all knew I wanted nothing to do with our family’s company. I was an Art major, for fuck’s sake, something my father never accepted. I bet the old bastard’s still laughing in his grave. I wouldn’t know, I hadn’t been there ever since the funeral.

  The clock struck seven, signaling the end of yet another self-imposed long and dreadful day. The elevator took me straight to the garage. I gave James the week off, insisting he’d take it to focus on his health. The man’s age was quickly catching up to him, and all those cigarettes surely didn’t aid his case.

  Getting behind the wheel for the first time in months felt decidedly alien. I usually rode in the back, and never though twice about it. Yet there I was, driving like any other human being. It knocked me down a peg or two, despite sitting on the leather seats of a Bentley.

  Perhaps I valued myself too much, or maybe I just needed to reevaluate my existence. The fact that a mundane action such as driving would prompt that sort of question gave me a rare moment of clarity, an epiphany that made me realize just how disconnected with reality I had become over the years.

  It used to be vastly different, though times were always changing. The man that stared back when I looked at the rear view mirror wasn’t the same one that couldn’t be seen without a brush in his hand just a few years prior.

  The same process that turned me into the seething ball of negativity I saw myself as, would soon corrupt Lucy as well. Strong as she may have been, she still stood no chances against that unstoppable machine. No one could rise up to it, no matter how hard they tried. It’s been attempted before. Every one of its victims tries to fight back — I know I did back in the day — yet eventually it wins.

  I drew a deep breath and finally found the courage to get going.

  The busy streets of Manhattan took on a very different aspect from my new position. I was forced to pay attention to my surroundings rather than lazily take in the bright lights of the city. I was part of the world rather than it being just a backdrop to my life. In a certain way, I was part of someone else’s scenery too, just an extra going about his life as the protagonist minds its own.

  That day brought forth quite a few realizations. I was just fine without them, or at least I pretended I was. Traffic jams will be the end of me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lucy

  My own office. My company.

  I still couldn’t believe it. It had been roughly a month ever since my father stepped down from his position and handed the reins to me. He won, in the end. He always did.

  Throughout my life I kept repeating myself that I would, one day, be in charge of something big. Some sort of business, perhaps, just not the one my family had. Life is a cruel mistress sometimes.

  My father’s office went through a quick remodeling session, just so it could truly become mine. I didn’t care for his collection of antique furniture or his priceless Persian carpets — I only kept a couple paintings, the rest I had taken back home.

  The list of changes was fairly extensive, though the contractors rushed through it in no time. Out with the old, in with the new and cutting edge. Can’t be a leader in the tech market if the CEO’s office resembled something one would read about in a Victorian era novel.

  Wood turned to stained glass and metal, much like what I envisioned Alexander’s office would have looked like, if he’d actually cared about it.

  The man used to be a mystery, though my new job gave me some insights I previously didn’t have. It was overwhelming at first, I can’t imagine how it must have been for him.

  I shamelessly did some digging back when I worked for him, though I kept it hidden. Alexander Harris was the farthest thing from a businessman. The man was an Art Major, which explained plenty about his love for painting. The hatred towards it could easily be attributed to the insane levels of pressure he — and now, I — were made to endure. There were a couple differences that made it easier for me, though. My father saw this new situation as some sort
of father-daughter bonding session and wouldn’t leave my side, always trying to help and offer his knowledge. Most of it was outdated, but his years of experience weren’t.

  Alex had to face everything on his own, the poor thing. I felt sorry for him, despite being my number one enemy. At least, that’s what my father said. I didn’t see him that way at all.

  In truth, I missed him. Regardless, there was no going back. Reynolds and Harris simply couldn’t coexist peacefully.

  I couldn’t hide the fact that I struggled to adjust to my new life.

  The corporate ladder I was supposed to climb, I barely even touched. In my defense I wanted to, although people pushed me right into the elevator that brought me to the top. I forced myself to accept it and move on rather than stick to my principles, ethics be damned.

  Despite all those changes, I still lived with Brianna in our tiny apartment. Granted, I did plan on getting my own place and finally be a grown up, but the prospect of not having her around was somewhat worrying. She’d kept me sane throughout plenty of bad times, acting as my rock and savior. Perhaps growing up also meant parting ways with those we held dear. It had already happened once.

  My health wasn’t in great shape either. Stress can — and proved itself to be, time and time again — a nightmare to deal with, especially since I didn’t want to take it out on others. Being known as the screaming bitch would certainly leave a bad first impression on anyone.

  I was on edge all the time, worrying I would accidentally make a mistake that would kill the company before I could even acknowledge it. It even bled into my private life back home, and my usual relief methods didn’t work — partially because I was too tired to even try.

  Exhaustion and stress turned my stomach upside down. I remember waking up one morning feeling like death incarnate, rushing to the bathroom to throw up the remnants of the previous night’s dinner.

  In the moment I didn’t think too much of it, mostly due to my still sleeping brain. It clicked when I dragged myself back to bed, shuffling past Brianna’s room. I distinctly remember getting back under the covers, enjoying the brief moment of warmth. I closed my eyes for just a second, but they shot open right after. My stomach sank as a myriad of what ifs began flooding my mind.

  I completely ignored the signals my body sent me, too busy with work and the vast assortment of annoyances that came with it. Memories of that night with Alexander came rushing back to the surface. We hadn’t even thought about using protection.

  I scoured our bathroom to find a pregnancy test I knew we didn’t have. I guess it just kept my mind busy until the clock struck seven and the stores opened. I silenced my alarm, there was no need for it any longer. I was alert, more than I had ever been.

  The convenience store clerk was half asleep given the hour, but I couldn’t have cared less. I almost threw the money at him and ran back home, though I tried to maintain a shred of composure even though I was screaming inside. I needed to know.

  Brianna was still sleeping and I did my best not to wake her up, fearing a possible lecture on safe sex and how not to screw one’s life over. Sure, I wanted to raise a family of my own. Just not like that, and not so early on. There was still a slight chance it had been a giant misunderstanding, though I wouldn’t have put money on it.

  The short wait felt like an eternity. I was positively scared to look at the test results, but I knew I had to. I summoned all the courage and strength I had and flipped the plastic stick over in my hand, my eyes darting straight to the oval-shaped result window.

  Two bars.

  I wanted to cry, though I could hardly find the energy to. Back then I wasn’t even sure how to feel about it, and found myself on the verge of shutting down.

  I froze and stared at the test, its result silently mocking me. A knock at the bathroom door made me jump and gasp in surprise.

  “You alright in there?” Brianna asked, her sleepy voice slightly muffled.

  I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “Yeah, don’t worry about it,” I declared, doing my best to sound confident.

  She shuffled back into her room, and I sighed in relief. The cold water I splashed on my face didn’t do much, other than give me a slight shiver. If anything, I needed a drink — and couldn’t have one.

  I stuffed the test back into its box and threw it in the bathroom trash bin, covering it up with a few squares of toilet paper just to make sure Brianna wouldn’t find it. I knew I would have to give her an explanation sooner or later, though I needed to gather my bearings first.

  Between work and everything else I barely even noticed anything. The only consolation being the fact that I knew Alex was the father. Deep down it only added insult to injury.

  A black, raving storm of questions seized my thoughts, swarming my mind and rooting me in place. I stared at myself through the mirror that hung above the sink. The woman that stared back, I barely recognized.

  She had dark circles under her watery eyes, but the need for sleep was nowhere to be seen. She’d had a rough night, people could think. They wouldn’t know the half of it.

  I almost shut down trying to find a solution for that mess. I couldn’t just show up at Alex’s doorstep while carrying a newborn, could I? I would need to tackle this on my own. I knew I could do it. It would be hard, but…

  “Lucy!” Brianna called, startling me.

  I gasped and turned towards the door, reaching for the knob before realizing I was in no state to hold up a conversation.

  “Just a second,” I replied, my voice shaking even if I tried to hide it. I wiped my eyes and opened the door to find her staring at me, arms folded across her chest, wearing an oversized T-shirt she’d slept in and a scowl on her tired face.

  “What took you so long?” She asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  “Nothing, I’m just not feeling too good is all,” I confessed. No lies so far, though that was bound to change.

  I dodged her questions as best I could. I genuinely couldn’t tell whether or not I arose any suspicions. I wanted her to find out but couldn’t bring myself to break the news.

  My bedroom door closed with clack so loud it could have raised the dead from their eternal slumber, which didn’t sound too bad to me at that moment.

  An unplanned pregnancy was the least thing I needed in my life. My father would murder me if he knew, and there was no telling how Alex would react to such a news.

  I had never felt so alone before, and I knew the agonizing fear that gripped me in those moments would forever remain with me. Like a memento of sorts, or rather, a monument to my sins.

  I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling, wishing I could go back and fix everything. Wishing I’d stayed with Alex. Wishing, dreaming, hoping but never acting. I couldn’t even bring myself to step out of bed, waiting for something to happen.

  There was no easy way out of that conundrum. Whatever the future held for me, I would face it head on. I had spent far too much time letting others control me and my life.

  The reins were mine, and mine only. I just needed to pick a direction.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Alexander

  The incessant pitter-patter of the rain against my window became the soundtrack of that Sunday morning. It had been raining ever since I went to bed the previous night. God had it out for us peasants down below and wanted to wash away our sins again, apparently.

  He’d need far more than that.

  I had never been a fan of breakfast, though some unknown and unseen force compelled me to escape the warm embrace of my bed to seek nourishment — preferably anything that hadn’t been fermented in an oak barrel or the like.

  My pantry had been restocked fairly recently, though nothing seemed appealing. The varied mix of colorful pellets of sugar people liked to call “cereal” looked as inviting as cholera. I opted instead for a normal toast, reminding myself to have a talk with whoever was in charge of buying groceries.

  The clock on my phone read eight in bright
white numbers, perfectly legible against the dark blue wallpaper I picked. A picture I had taken not that long before, during a night out with Lucy. I still couldn’t quite shake her out of my thoughts, yet I knew it would get better given enough time.

  Destiny had it out for me, that day. My phone began buzzing moments after the toaster spit out a darkened slice of bread, which landed directly onto the floor. I glared at it, expecting an apology, before looking over at the source of the second annoyance of the day.

  A number I couldn’t recognize. I declined the call and set out to make a second, hopefully not suicidal toast. My phone buzzed again, and I suspected the caller to be the same one as before. My suspicions were confirmed right away, and much like before, I declined it. I only took calls from numbers I bothered to have in my contacts list, so a grand total of about five people. Four, excluding my sister.

  I caught my toast in time and set it on a plate, happy to see the toaster hadn’t burnt it to a crisp. I sighed in exasperation when my phone lit up again. My hand reached over to grab it, poking the screen far too vigorously for no real reason. Curiosity had gotten the best of me, though anger tainted it.

  Instead of another call, I received a text. Same number as the one that kept calling me. I opened it and read its contents, the preview piqued my interest in a way I couldn’t quite place.

  “It’s Brianna, Lucy’s roommate,” It said. I tapped the screen and the rest of the message appeared. “We need to talk. Pick up the phone.”

  I wouldn’t have followed those instructions if she hadn’t mentioned Lucy. Naturally there was no way of discerning her tone from those two short sentences, and besides, Brianna was a mystery to me. I only talked to her a couple times, and it never went beyond small talk.