by Shen, L. J.
This morning, I was hoping to sort out some of the clusterfuck also known as my life. I sent Madison flowers to her office. The big-ass, expensive kind. Flowers that didn’t say thank you for the casual lay but made no room for doubt I was serious. That way, that Nina chick and Mad’s other colleagues would at least know she wasn’t the flavor of the week.
Throwing money at the Madison problem was the first and last good thing about my morning. As soon as I got into the office, I realized something was amiss. And when I said amiss, I meant my brousin’s sanity.
He was standing in the middle of the office, arms spread, in a crumpled suit with a coffee stain the size of Minnesota, giving frantic directions to every secretary and assistant in sight. People around him looked ashen, scared, downright devastated. A few secretaries and interns cried. What had he done to make everyone’s panties twist? Other than the obvious sin of living and breathing.
I stepped out of the elevator, considering if I should call security or punch him square in the face myself. The latter would mean a lot of legal paperwork, but damn if I wasn’t tempted.
His beady black eyes ran aimlessly in their sockets, like they, too, wanted to escape the man they were in. An assistant handed him a fresh suit, and he raced to the restroom to change. I glanced at Dad’s office. He wasn’t in yet. I took my phone out and sent Mom a text asking if he was okay.
“Mr. Black! I’m so sorry about the news.”
“Mr. Black, I just want you to know if you ever want to talk to anyone, I’m here.”
“Chase—can I call you Chase?—I’ll be keeping your family in my prayers . . .”
I breezed past a herd of blabbering assistants, making my way to my office. I had no fucking clue what they were talking about but was eager to find out right after I consumed my first coffee and turned from zombie to semiconscious. A hand landed on my arm. I looked up from my phone. It was Julian. He was fully dressed in a brand-new suit. That was fast. Did he possess the most useless superpower of all, of getting dressed quickly in public restrooms?
“A word,” he growled.
I stalked into my office and took a seat behind my desk. He followed closely behind. I prided myself on being self-possessed when it came to Julian, but even I had my limits. Something told me I was about to meet those limits today.
“Well?” I powered up my laptop, not sparing him a glance. There was a fresh cup of coffee on my desk, and I took a sip. “Are you waiting for a royal invitation from the Windsors, or can you spit it out before lunch?” I made a show of glancing at my Rolex for emphasis. I noticed he was holding a thick stack of papers in his hand.
“I told everyone about Ronan. About the terminal cancer. How he had only a few more weeks to live,” he said. My eyes darted up. His lower lip was trembling, but he kept his head high. “This has nothing to do with us. I love Ronan like a father, but he can’t go around pretending it’s not happening. This company feeds thousands of families. Families who deserve to know what’s going on.”
I couldn’t argue with his logic, but I sure as hell could crucify him for telling people about it.
“You had no fucking right,” I gritted out, feeling my composure slipping. I couldn’t sit back and let him do that anymore. I was fed up.
“Now, that’s not true. We all had the responsibility of notifying the company, but none of us wanted to do it because we feel loyal to him. Because we love him.”
I was going to spit out something about how Julian never had loved my father, based on his behavior; then he slid a paper across the desk toward me.
“Ronan is not willing to change his stand on the CEO position. So you will. Refuse the inheritance.”
“Are you on meth?” I adjusted my tie. “Why on earth would I do that?”
“Because—” he started. I raised my hand, cutting him off.
“Let me guess: you’ll stage a vote of no confidence meeting. Rest assured, I am way ahead of you. Every single person you tried to sway against me called me up to say I needed to put you back on your meds. They’re all in my pocket, and I have their full cooperation.”
“No.” He reddened, curling his fists in anger. “Because—”
“Madison and Ethan? That bag of bullshit?” I sat back, forcing out a metallic laugh. Talking about Ethan still felt like taking a lengthy walk in hell, fucking barefoot. “Madison and I are engaged. I spend every night at her place. My suits look like they’re made of brown fur because of her dog. She hangs out with Mom and Katie more than Amber did the entire duration of her marriage with you. Hell, we were caught having sex in the restroom on her floor yesterday.” I chuckled, but the admission felt sour in my mouth. It wasn’t my place to spit it out. I just wanted to throw it in his face. To make sure he knew Mad and I were the real deal.
Julian banged his fist on my desk, making the keyboard fly an inch off the surface. “No! I don’t mean any of this, you asshole. If you let me get a word in—”
“Just the one, please.”
“Clementine is yours!” he spat out, picking up one of the papers in his hand and throwing it my way. It floated between us and landed like a feather on my desk. “She’s fucking yours, okay? Not mine. That’s for sure.”
I sat stoically, not picking up the paper between us. Didn’t take a genius to figure out it was the paternity test. Julian took a ragged breath, dragging his fingers over his balding head.
“I took the test. Finally. Amber’s been teasing me about it for a while now. Every time we had a fight, she’d throw it in my face. I’m sure it doesn’t come as a shock to you that things have been bad between us for a while.” He gave me a narrowed-eyed glance, like it was my fault they were both D-grade douchebags who hated each other and had married for all the wrong reasons. “Three years, to be exact,” he added.
“Peculiar,” I said icily.
“Not really.” He exhaled, his body shrinking as he did. “Ever since she found out you’d get CEO, she’s been riding my ass like there was no tomorrow.”
So that was what made him the way he was? Goddamn Amber?
Julian rubbed his forehead, looking around the office. “Yesterday I finally took a test. It was one taunt too many, I guess, after the weekend at the ranch. Amber was in a bad mood, and I wanted to know if she was bullshitting me or not. She wasn’t. I’m not Clementine’s father. Which means”—his red face morphed into a smile so nefarious I thought he was going to grow little horns on each side of his skull—“you’re the baby daddy, brousin. Now tell me, would it not kill your parents to know you were the MIA father to their granddaughter?” He cocked his head sideways. “This is highly unorthodox. The stuff Jerry Springer drama is made of.”
I grabbed the paper, skimming through it. Julian wasn’t lying. He wasn’t Clementine’s biological father according to the test. I looked back up at him, balling the paper in my fist and throwing it into the trash can across my office with easy accuracy. I said nothing.
“Amber told me she tried to tell you numerous times,” Julian accused, his lips twisting in feral disgust. I wondered if he was clinically sane. He seemed much more eager to blackmail the CEO position from me than mourn the news about his daughter not being biologically his after nine years of raising her. Only I knew Julian enough to know life had left him scarred beyond recognition from the inside. That was his way of dealing with this.
And there was something else I suspected—he’d known. He couldn’t have not known. Clementine didn’t look like either him or Amber. She didn’t have my colors, my angles, or my expressions either.
“I suppose she failed to mention I repeatedly asked for a paternity test,” I said.
“Well, you have it now.” Julian waved to the trash can behind us. “Obviously, I have more copies of it.”
“That’s not how paternity tests work, idiot. The only thing it proves is that you’re not the father. The rest of the world’s male population has officially become potential candidates.”
“You’re grasping at stra
ws.” Julian bared his teeth. His eyes were shining. He wanted to cry. I leaned forward, no trace of malice in my voice.
“No, you’re losing everything you’ve ever had, because you tried to steal it rather than earn it. Now get out of my office, Julian. Come back with an apology if you want a brother. I don’t want to see you in any other capacity.”
I knew what I needed to do, but it was going to take a minute.
Instead of getting the hell out of my office, leaving a trail of smoke and the rancid smell of desperation that clung to him, Julian sprawled on the seat in front of me.
“As for Maddie . . .” He trailed off. Hearing her name on his tongue made me want to break every glass wall in the office using his head as the hammer. “You may be together now, but I know you weren’t together. Shortly before you came to the ranch, Ethan told me all about you. How you cheated on her. How she dumped you. Your little girlfriend even told him about all the women who came after her. All the hussies her boss saw going up to your penthouse. Now, let’s see. What do we have here? You lied to your family about being engaged. You fathered a child with the woman your brother married, keeping this fact from them—and me—and making me raise her as my own. I can tell Lori and Ronan you probably won’t be seeing a lot of Madison after he finally drops dead. That it is an arrangement. What are you paying her to cling onto your arm with starry eyes? Money? Shares? Status? Do you even see how pathetic it looks from the outside? Or maybe . . .” He got up, laughing as he shook his head, like this was nothing more than an elaborate personal joke. He was losing it. Crying. Laughing. Shaking all over. “Maybe I should just go directly to Madison and tell her about the kind of person she is dating. A man who fathered a child and didn’t even—”
He never got to finish that sentence.
I pounced on him with such speed we both sailed on the floor from the momentum, crashing against the glass door. Julian hit his head. I straddled him, no longer caring that we had an audience and that I was playing into his hands. Objectively speaking, I knew I looked like a certifiable asshole. But I’d reached the end of the road. Julian had sprinted past every red line I ever had and was officially so far off the rails he couldn’t even see the line. The idea of losing Madison after everything we’d been through—all the lies and bullshit and what-ifs and maybes—to something so stupid, so malicious, made my blood boil.
“Don’t you dare say her name again.” I balled the lapels of his suit, twisting them savagely.
Julian laughed, rolling his head on the carpet like a madman. “You fool. You goddamn fool. Your dick cost you your kingdom. Clementine is yours and the company is mine.”
He tried to punch me in the face, but I was quicker. People gathered outside my office, watching from the glass wall, their mouths hanging open. I threw a sucker punch straight to Julian’s eye. He cried out but continued trying to punch me unsuccessfully. “I will have your kingdom after the old man kicks the bucket!”
“Shut up,” I growled.
“And in case you are wondering, why, yes, I did fuck Amber while she was still yours. Before you even put a ring on her finger. When you still lived in your dorms . . .”
I punched him again.
And again.
And a-fucking-gain.
I couldn’t see past the red mist of anger and wrath.
Two burly security men stomped into my office, followed by my father, who must’ve arrived straight into this clusterfuck. He was holding a walking cane, hunched over it, the cane dancing between his fingers as he struggled to keep standing. His eyes said it all. He’d heard us. Every last bit.
Julian and I scrambled up from the floor, straightening our backs like two unruly punks caught shoplifting. Julian was banged up, with a black eye and open lip. It amazed me how we both were, in our core, still the same kids competing for our father’s precious approval.
“Back to work,” my father roared, turning around to glare at the people who stood behind him, ping-ponging their gazes from Julian and me to Ronan, whom they now knew was dying. People ran to their stations so fast you’d think their asses were on fire. Dad turned his attention back to us.
“In my entire seventy-two years of living, I’ve never been as disappointed as I am today. I thought I raised men. I knew you didn’t always see eye to eye. I wasn’t blind to the way you exchanged words and taunts from across the table during dinner for the past few years. I was terribly saddened when Amber decided to end her engagement to Chase and got with Julian so early afterward, but I held my tongue, knowing that, in essence, you were good men who were allowed to make mistakes and learn from them. Julian.” He turned to my brousin. Julian stared at the floor, blinking rapidly. “From the moment we took you in, you were the apple of our eye. You’re my son no less than Chase is.”
Julian’s head snapped up. “Then why did you give—”
“Because he is more suitable for the job,” my father clipped out, smacking his cane on the carpet. “He worked harder and, frankly, made fewer mistakes. His approach is more analytical, and he is not trigger happy when in crisis. He will be CEO because, in my opinion, he possesses the set of skills that a good CEO requires. You’re emotional, Julian, with the tendency for knee-jerk reactions. If you need a point of reference to why I couldn’t trust you as CEO, all you need to do is look back to your behavior in the past few years, or weeks even. Taunting Chase, trying to turn the shareholders against him, trying to make me sign contracts while I was half-conscious—yes, I do remember that—and spilling the beans about my illness publicly before I was ready to tell people.”
Julian let out a groan, covering his face with his hands. It was the first time he’d looked human in years. My father turned his head toward me, frowning.
“As for you, Chase, I really don’t know what to say. Faking an engagement to Maddie. Manipulating your family in order to secure this position—”
“It wasn’t about the position,” I bit out. “It was about you.” The admission felt bitter in my mouth. “I wanted you to think I had my shit together before we said goodbye. I wanted you to be proud.”
It sounded pathetic coming out of my mouth. So much so I wanted to laugh. Dad did laugh. Humorlessly, though. “Evidently, you’ve failed. Your shit is not together. Your shit hit the fan, and now everybody stinks.”
It was Julian’s turn to snicker. Bastard had the audacity to enjoy it.
“Now let’s talk about Clementine.” Dad tapped his cane again, redirecting the conversation to the part that mattered. It felt surreal to stand here in front of my father and watch him unravel every single embarrassing thing his two sons had done in the last decade. “Both of you will need to step up.”
“I will,” I said without hesitation, even knowing what I knew. It didn’t matter. I would always be there for Booger Face, until the end of time, in any capacity, no matter who she belonged to.
“Me too.” Julian nodded, sobered. “God, I’m not a monster. And anyway, a part of me always knew, I guess. Clemmy is mine. Always will be.”
Dad used the very last ounces of his energy to raise the cane, poking it in Julian’s arm. “You do not treat that kid any differently. It is not her fault she was born into the wrong situation. Am I understood?” He hovered the cane between the two of us.
“Yes, sir,” we said in unison.
My father shook his head, sighing. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go apologize to Lori for leaving her with this mess and bring her up to speed.”
He turned around and walked out of my office. It was only when he entered the elevator that I noticed Madison was on the other side of the glass.
She’d heard.
About Clementine. Or at least, what she thought was me fathering Clementine.
About our exposed charade.
About fucking everything.
“Mad, wait.”
But it was too late. She turned around and took the elevator down with Dad.
Chase: You’re not in your office.
Maddie: Thanks, Captain Obvious.
Chase: I’m coming to your place.
Maddie: I wouldn’t do that if I were you.
Chase: I can explain.
(I couldn’t, at this point, but it seemed like something people said often.)
Maddie: Which part, the one where your father uncovered us? Or maybe it’s the part where you screwed my brains out in my office, then proceeded to throw it in Julian’s face when he ruffled your feathers? Yes, Chase. Thin glass door. EVERYBODY heard.
Maddie: Or maybe you can explain the part where you FATHERED CLEMENTINE AND FORGOT TO MENTION IT TO EVERYONE?
Maddie: I thought I hated you then. I was wrong. This, right here, right now, is hate.
Maddie: There’s nothing to talk about. This was temporary, right? You said so yourself. Mission accomplished. You screwed me. You bragged about it. Everyone knows. Now let me go.
Maddie: And one more thing. Be good to Clemmy. That’s the least you can do.
It was pissing rain by the time the taxi stopped by Madison’s brownstone. I tucked the papers into my blazer to prevent them from getting wet, ducking my head as I slipped out of the cab. I punched her buzzer three times, pacing back and forth. No answer. I tried calling her. She didn’t pick up. I could clearly see her light was on through her window. Her plants tucked behind the glass cozily as the rain pounded on the glass from outside. I called and texted and begged for twenty minutes straight before the door opened from the inside of the building.
“Jesus, Mad. Finally. I . . .” I stopped when I saw who it was. Layla.
“Wow, Satan, you look like shit. Which is frankly an accomplishment, considering your genetics.” She bit off the edge of a Twizzler, taking a whole lot of pleasure in watching me soaked to the bone. She was still in. I was still out. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure what I was doing here in the first place. Madison had made valid points in her text messages—this was supposed to be temporary, and now we were uncovered. Done. What did I care if she knew the truth or not? Especially now, when my life was one giant fire in need of extinguishing.