Dominic

My own threat hangs heavy on my heart long after I part ways with Laiken.

Our kiss unlocked something chained inside of me. It's more than an animal, more than a feeling. There's no one alive that understands the sacrifices I've made. Inside of me is a damn black hole. The part of every person that is pure, that goes cockeyed when they think about happiness? It's missing from me. For the past year, I was sure it never existed in the first place.

She changed all of that.

When we kissed, the nostalgic time we'd spent together came rushing back. I'm not crazy enough to think that anything she can do to me would heal the gaping wound in my psyche. She can't make me whole. But I don't need Laiken to be my salvation. I can settle for her being my drug - something to neutralize the bitter acid swimming in my veins.

Even if it was brief, she brought out a sensation that I thought was beyond me. Kissing her was a mistake. I know that. But it's a mistake I plan to make again.

I wasn't kidding when I told her that the first whiff of desire I catch on her, I'm going to pounce. Maybe I'm just fucked up, but the idea of chasing her is exciting. I can't wait to do it.

Part of my plan involves moving forward with the one she concocted. Except every time I try to get a hold of my father, it turns out he's not around. This isn't strange. When I was young he was rarely home as well.

I've never known him as anything less than a workaholic. What bothers me is that he isn't telling me what he's doing to try and patch the leak left behind by Joseph. I'm left in the dark to knock on his door, call his phone, and pray that I won't have to run Laiken's idea past my mother.

My father and her are two sides of the same coin. Neither has ever embraced me the way families in feel-good movies do. My father keeps his disgust barely hidden beneath a veneer of strained patience. He's capable of being cordial with me. Annie isn't.

She wears her emotions for me on her well-tailored sleeves. She's never said a good word about me. I've always been a disappointment to her. More than once, I've caught her looking through me, seeing a life in which I don't exist.

Those moments are the only time she graces me with a smile.

That's why I need to prove myself.

I need to show her and the world that my existence matters.

Why the fuck isn't my father answering his phone? I wonder furiously. My car roars out of the driveway. In the rearview mirror I glimpse the estate behind me. It didn't feel like home when I first left it years ago. I was never homesick for it. When I returned, it  didn't feel anymore welcoming.

All Laiken wants is to go home, I think as I pull through the wave shaped gates. I wonder what that feels like. Going home.

Thinking about her brings up the delicious memory of our single kiss in the library. I shudder, slamming my foot on the gas pedal and ripping down the long road that leads to the highway. My estate is in a very private location. I'm not sure if it was my father's choice to stay here after my grandpa died, or if it was just easier to remain in the one place he's always known. He can definitely afford to move anywhere he wants.

As I speed down the pavement, the oak trees blur along my peripheral vision. The green reminds me of the highlights in Laiken's eyes. It's shameful, but I especially like how bright the colors stand out when she's staring up at me with uncertainty. It's thrilling to make someone as confident as her breath faster in my presence.

I didn't used to be like this. The boy I was before I went off to boarding school is less than a memory. He's an imaginary figure in a pretend world that I have no idea how to get back to. I wonder if Laiken does.

I take the exit that brings me close to my father's flagship bank downtown. Most of the work is done here - the real, on-paper-number-crunching-bottom-dollar stuff. No one else knows what Joseph was doing with my father's blessing. The inner workings of that side of our company would destroy us if they got out.

I have to appreciate Joseph's self-preservation, honestly. He knows he can't go to the police. Not unless he wants to end up in a jail cell, and if he's going to be trapped like that, he's smart enough to know that he's better off working under our thumb.

It wasn't enough to keep them from running a second time, though.

I'm so furious with myself. I feel like an idiot, knowing that he played me. Played all of us, I remind myself, to try and soothe my shame. It doesn't work.

I park my car in the covered lot reserved for my father and his most important colleagues. Slamming the door, I lock it and rush to the elevator. I'm hurrying, and it's about more than getting to my father so I can convince him to host a party. No, I feel the string that links back to that damn woman. I'm longing for her like an addict, furious that I'm here and not at her side. The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can get back to her. I want to spend every second I can breaking her down.

I'm consumed with the idea of making her mine.

I know I can't have her properly. A woman like her is too wild to be content staying trapped in a mansion forever, even if it's with me. I don't want to think about it, but I know that eventually, her and I will have to part ways. Whether that's before or after I find her father remains to be seen.

“Mr. Bradley,” the receptionist says when I exit the elevator. She jumps to her feet behind the crescent shaped white desk, glancing at my father's office door. “He just came back from a meeting, he doesn't want to be disturbed. Can I leave him a message for you or—”

I don't respond. I just knock on the door loudly. “It's me,” I say. There's no response. I wait with my arms folded, not planning to budge until he talks to me.

The receptionists stares like I'm on fire as she sits back in her chair. She's acting cagey, eyes darting to me.  When I look her way, she investigates the ceiling then the papers on her desk, like she's doing important work. This isn't because I stormed inside the office. She's fidgeting, a woman ready to dart into the elevator to get as far from me as possible.

She's finally heard the news. Someone has spoiled the broth.

Now she's afraid of me.

I remind myself that I can never allow Laiken to know what I did.

I wouldn't survive her looking at me like that.

The door opens, and my father waves me inside. “Get in here,” he snaps.

I follow him in and shut the door behind me. “Why aren't you answering my calls?”

“Because I am in the middle of figuring out how to handle the loose ends that Joseph left behind. So unless you've brought him with you in the trunk of your car, make this fast.”

“I don't have him, but I do have an idea. Something that will help keep this company from taking a nosedive.”

He sits in his padded leather chair and pours himself a glass from an expensive looking bottle of whiskey. I cringe at seeing him drink. I know how quickly he can spiral, and I know what happens when he spirals. “Tell me you're amazing idea,” he chuckles.

“It's not my idea, it's Laiken's.” My dad lifts his eyebrows, but he let's me continue. “She thinks we should try to have a party. A big event where we can wine and dine some current clients and some new ones, ensuring that we raise our bottom line and prevent the shareholders from scampering off in fear.”

My father swirls his glassed then sips it. “This is her idea, you said?”

“All her.”

“That doesn't make you suspicious?”

“Why would it? Her idea is good, and right now, it's all we have.”

He drains the glass, closing his eyes as he enjoys the burn of the liquid. “You know she's doing this to save her own skin, right? I told her she had to make Annie happy, this is what she comes up with.”

“It doesn't matter to me why she's doing it. What matters to me is that it helps us. And it's going to.”

He considers me with his eyes glittering like dark jewels in the deep hollows of his face. The years have not been kind to him. His skin has sunk into the deep grooves of his cheekbones and every other place it can as the meat beneath erodes away. He reminds me of a dried out piece of fruit.

“Do you plan to help her with this?” he asks, his voice soft and thoughtful.

I nod my head. “I was going to spearhead it. It's easier for me to arrange things than her. I doubt many of the staff will listen to her instructions. But they will listen to me.”

“Of that I'm sure of,” he says, laughing dryly. “Everyone on our estate has heard what happened in Switzerland last year.

I tense up, hoping not to have this conversation now, preferably ever.

“They're terrified of you, you know,” he whispers.

I keep my voice steady. “Good.”

He watches me for a long minute. Refilling his glass, he takes a quick swallow, smacks his thin lips. “Thinking about that whole mess, I wonder if we can even get your uncle to show his face at this party. His connections go very far. If our hope is to get new blood, he could easily bring some in.”

“I can't ask him,” I blurt, shaking my head. I'm losing my cool as I imagine seeing my uncle Vahn's face again. “He hates me, you know he does.”

“And rightfully so,” my father says, talking more to his drink than to me. “I understand the meaning of diplomacy. I'll get someone else to reach out to him. You, meanwhile, should head back and begin the process of arranging this event. It's not worth doing if it won't be done right.”

Excitement trickles up towards my heart. It makes it pump faster. “I'll get right on it,” I say, turning towards the door. As I leave, I think about how much of my life has been this: me visiting my father in a place where he's powerful, where he can fit in his chair and stare down his nose at me. A scene that's repeated so often in my memories, you could switch them around and not tell which happened when.

Uncountable times I've told my father I would do what he's demanded. It should bother me more. It's hard to be upset when I'm getting what I want.