Chapter13
“Initial reports have said that real estate tycoon James Douglas III kicked his brother in the face, resulting in the latter’s bloody nose. A video circulating online shows James delivering blow after blow to the helpless younger Douglas’ face—”
James irritably changed the channel as he watched in his office with Atty. Powell in tow. It was past five in the afternoon, and he had called Powell for an emergency meeting. The whole thing was considered breaking news. Seriously? Two men fighting was breaking news?
“The eldest son of James Douglas II, James, was caught viciously beating his younger brother inside an upscale mall. Nearly twenty-three years ago, the senior Douglas had a nasty separation from celebrity wife Deborah Walcott. James’ half-brother, Mark Smith, is the son of Monica Smith, the senior Douglas’ secretary—”
James switched to another local channel. They were all the same.
“He’s been called ‘The man who owns Miami’ and the ‘real estate genius,’ but earlier today, he was known as the ‘ten-punch man,’ after being caught on video, apparently pummeling the daylights out of his own brother—”
“Damn it,” James said, exasperated, throwing the remote on a couch.
“Well, what do you expect?” Powell told him with a sigh, drinking coffee. “You millennials are just so up-to-date with news. Social media is a plague, I tell you.”
“What am I expecting out of this?”
“It’ll eventually fade, but you’ve got a new suit coming your way.”
“The asshole spied on me,” James said, gritting his teeth. He rubbed his raw knuckles gently, seeing there was skin peeling off from it. “Can we do anything about that?”
“Any proof?”
“I’ll look for proof,” James said. “In the meantime, craft out a story that he’s gone beyond his credit score. Let’s create financial troubles for him—not that he isn’t into a sinkhole of debt, yet.”
Powell nodded. “Am I meeting with any of your marketing team? Perhaps there’s a press con you’d want, although I firmly suggest against it. Let’s stay silent—”
“And let him open his wide mouth to ruin him,” James finished.
The store’s damages were minimal, but the damage between him and Aliya was irreparable, he thought. It wasn’t his first brawl; it may have been the latest since high school, but he always won. Earlier today, he had lost. He had lost Aliya, even though there had been that instant gratification that he had finally pummeled his ungrateful, brat of a half-brother. He had it coming, James thought. Mark was never going to forget the day that he was beaten by the one person he loathed. The media didn’t matter; what mattered was that the company was his and not under Mark’s name. He had expected stocks to dip, but not to plunge…
He closed his eyes, still in his office well past eight in the evening. He was alone, drinking scotch on the rocks. Aliya had probably changed her number, and changed residences. He could have hired a private detective to search for her, but he didn’t forget the look on her face, the hurt in her eyes. Both of the Douglas brothers were assholes, he thought, almost laughing at the irony of it.
What Mark had whispered to him, it just completely set him off. It was grossly disrespectful, and he found himself wanting to defend Aliya’s honor. Had she actually slept with his brother? Or did he just spy on her like he did to them before? It was the lowest thing he’d ever done, far lower than manipulating people into thinking that he was the poorer Douglas, the Douglas that had been cheated out of his inheritance.
James wanted to rub it off, the disgust he felt for Mark, and that mixture of emotions he felt for Aliya. It was not a happy reunion. He had rehearsed things in his mind, what he was going to say to her in case they met again—everything had fallen apart. Was she alright? He had pushed her off, hadn’t he, in that blind rage?
I am not my father, he thought all of a sudden. He just hadn’t found that right match, until he found Aliya, until he met her. They were destined to meet, he thought. No one else had drawn his attention, no one else but her. He had wanted to be hers, and hers alone, completely.
Too late for that now.
He paced around his office, wondering how to find her. And then, he chuckled softly to himself. School records, that’s right. He would give her time. She deserved to be alone for now, to recollect her thoughts, to hurt over what had happened. He didn’t want her hurt; it was the first time in his life that he couldn’t find it in himself to ignore someone.
*
“Aliya, if they don’t make you happy, you stay away from them. Stick with me. I can make you happy.”
I can make you happy? He lied, of course. Was this the cred of every successful man? Lie to get his way? He had made her cry, she had never cried this much over someone, and she had had two long-term relationships before.
“You were the only one I saw that day to have a happy smile.”
He meant she was the only one he saw gullible enough to be victimized by him?
“Probably your undying and unequivocal affection for me.”
She had asked him what he wanted, and he had said that. Aliya wanted to kick herself for actually believing in everything he had said. All she had wanted was to be loved, and she had wanted someone to love. She had been right the first time. He was an asshole, an asshole who broke her heart.
Oh god, what’s wrong with me? I’m in love with him. I’m in love with him; that’s why it hurts.
She bit her lower lip as she sat in bed, her back aided by the wall. She couldn’t study, what kind of person could? Not after what had happened. Kimmy had called her an hour ago, asking what was wrong, wanting to see her to comfort her. Her friend had seen that video that was making the rounds in Miami’s social media.
“What in the heck were you doing there?” Kimmy asked her, worried.
She was too tired to explain everything, that she had dated two people who were related, two people who were brothers, brothers who loathed each other. She had only wanted happiness, and she looked for it in the wrong place. Mark had manipulated her into thinking he was sincere. She should have asked more about him, she could have fished that information out.
“I just happened to be there,” she said dully.
“You dated both at the same time? Or which one is the ex? Oh my god,” Kimmy said, realizing things. “You didn’t know or something, am I right? Am I right?”
“I’ll talk to you some other time. See you,” Aliya told her, ending the call and throwing her phone against a pillow. The phone bounced off and fell on the floor. She didn’t bother to pick it up.
She didn’t know, period. She was the smart, dumb girl in college. How could she not have seen that? Mark had conveniently come in the moment James had stepped out of her life. She closed her eyes, grabbing a hold of her hair in frustration.
I haven’t gotten over it, she told herself, that’s why it hurts. I still love him. She knew this all the while seeing Mark. I shouldn’t feel terrible about Mark, right? But she did. She felt terrible that Mark Smith had manipulated her emotions; she’d been putty in his hands. The whole story had fell into place—that he was James’ younger brother, that Mark’s mother was the one who tore the Douglas’ marriage apart. That was why James had been difficult and emotionally detached. That was why James had this different persona when it came to personal relationships.
Still, she thought, it was not an excuse to lie to someone, even if she was just his girlfriend… damn it, she had been his girlfriend! She allowed it to happen, she had doubted the relationship would work, and yet she wanted it to work. This was her choice, and it came back to bring her pain.
She hadn’t told her parents of the ugly way they broke up. She could still remember his voice, the way he demanded they talk. Was he trying to tell her another lie? Apart from the ones he had sugarcoated already? It was too good to be true, the moment he promised her he would ‘control’ himself, the moment he said those words.
“You asked me what we were,” James suddenly told her, looking at her with a smile. “I think I have an answer to that.”
She had agreed to be his, but not his property. It was as if he owned her, just a toy for the big boy. Effectively, she was his property, buying all those things for her, who wouldn’t be impressed?
“Because I didn’t see anyone else that day, except you.”
Did he mean anything at all? Was there no love for her? Even the slightest bit? She didn’t beg for love. Love was given freely, but at that moment, alone in her room, she begged for it.
*
It was past one in the afternoon when she walked into the school office, an hour after classes ended. The room fell silent as soon as she got in, and the university’s office staff stared at her, like she had done something immoral. She took a deep breath, trying to ignore it. Aliya busied herself with the strewn papers on the common room table, and then she saw the local daily, folded at the 2nd page. It was a screenshot of the fight yesterday. Her face, although a bit blurred, was on it, and James had raised an arm, about to punch Mark.
So that was how distraught she looked. Her hand trembled, holding onto the paper. So that was why the administrative staff looked weirdly at her. Her eyes narrowed in on the caption.
“Love triangle between businessmen and college students goes viral,” the small caption read.
Love triangle? Holy—she took a deep breath and clenched one fist, closing her eyes. She was not going to let them make her feel terrible. They don’t know the real score. She wanted to get out of the office, all of a sudden. A fight or flight response, she thought. She wanted flight, she wanted to fly back to Pensacola, cry in her mother’s arms. Aliya slowly walked out of the office, mindful of the eyes staring at her exit. She shouldn’t have gone to work.
As soon as she opened the door, a crisply dressed woman and a man holding a camera interrupted her. There was another woman, holding onto a recorder, and two cameras flashing at her. Aliya blinked, surprised at the sudden flash.
Her heart pounded, realizing these were people who wanted something to report, no matter how trivial. She took a step back, hoping they had gotten the wrong person.
“Aliya Jones!” the reporter began. “Can you tell us what happened yesterday afternoon?”
Aliya shook her head. “No comment,” she sputtered out, attempting to close the door. “This area is for university staff only please.”
“Who did you date first?” the other female reporter pressed her recorder closer to Aliya’s face.
“Get away,” Aliya said, her nerves frazzled by their insistency.
“Was it a set-up? There are rumors that the younger Douglas wants to take over his brother’s company. Did you know about this?”
“No—I—” Aliya began, agitated.
“The kid said stay away,” someone from behind her said. “You’re trespassing. Get out before I call security.”
Aliya looked to see one of the gym coaches behind her, a burly man with muscles to match. There were three other people behind him as well, one from accounting, one from marketing, and one was the school VP’s secretary.
The reporters backed down, as the gym coach slammed the door on their faces. Aliya looked at him, thankful, but she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing this time. She felt attacked, her privacy invaded.
The secretary handed her a tissue. “Here. I think it’s best if you go home first; pass through the fire exit. This’ll all go away soon. It’s not like you did anything wrong.”
Her voice was soft, and Aliya nodded, grateful for their empathy. Not everyone was an asshole, after all. She did something wrong, though. She dated two people who were related, without knowing. That was wrong. Ignorance of the law is not an excuse, her father’s voice echoed in her head.
There was no law for dating people; there was no law that said you couldn’t get your heart broken. There was that unspoken guideline to never date people who had a bone to pick with each other. She didn’t know, she told herself again and again. Aliya found herself walking down the fire escape, just one floor above the library. She saw a Channel News 5 van parked ahead, apart from 2 other cars marked with their respective outlets. Aliya found herself sitting down the steps, not wanting to be seen. She would wait here, even if it took her hours.
While she did, she hugged her knees, wondering what was going to come next. What would she tell her parents? It wouldn’t be long before this reached Pensacola. She sighed and looked out onto the parking lot. The media were shooed away by security, and they hastily got inside the vans.
Aliya waited a few minutes more, just to make sure they had gone out of campus, before she began walking down the fire exit. She breathed a sigh of relief. Now, for the matter of getting home without being ambushed.
Perhaps, she could have taken the offer of breaking a camera or two, like James had once said, but they were no longer dating. What was the use of that? She was going to end up paying for a camera that was worth more than her monthly wages. There was nothing wrong with pride, right? She was doing this to survive the harshness, and the heartache.
*
Mark replayed the video over and over again, his frown deepening as he did. James had indeed battered him black and blue. His nose was still swollen, his upper lip was as well. He had a gash on his forehead.
He hadn’t known that such a rage existed in his brother. Mark had awoken some long slumbering dragon, he thought, suddenly pleased. Of course, this would be even more beneficial to the case he had filed. Another case filed wouldn’t matter. He brushed his cheek by accident, and then he winced.
The man could pack a punch. And here he had thought his older half-brother was a complete wuss. Apparently, James was as brilliant with his fists as he was with work. Meeting Aliya was a plus, though, and Mark was sorely disappointed that he didn’t get to at least sleep with her.
His ego was bruised, he realized, that Aliya held back from him because she was still in love with his older brother. Even with women, James? Really?
Competition for their father’s affection wasn’t fierce. James was first born, and he had the attention that Mark wasn’t given. After all, Monica hid Mark from the public for years, until the affair filtered out into the press.
He stood up from his chair, massaging his neck. He hadn’t launched good punches at James, it was one of his regrets for the day. His door creaked open, and in came his younger sister, Paige. “Yeah?” he began, not wanting her to see his face.
“So, he really beat you up, huh?” Paige said softly.
His sister was a pretty and sensitive soul, one who enjoyed poetry and the like. He had wanted to spare her, she was after all, the youngest Douglas child. The web however, was a nasty place. The moment he saw her, he knew that she had seen the video, too.
“Why’d you do that?” she asked him.
“Do what?” he said, irritably.
“You taunted James. He’s been nothing but nice to us.”
“He isn’t,” Mark said, through gritted teeth. “He’s obligated to fund our expenses because it was in Father’s will.”
“Father left us enough.”
“Not enough,” Mark said. “Nothing is ever enough.”
He looked at his doe-eyed sister, and forced a smile. “I’m doing this for us, Paige. I’m doing this for Mama.”
“We don’t need that kind of money, Mark…”
“You don’t know anything about life, Paige,” he said bitterly. “You don’t know the struggle I’ve had to put up with, just for us to survive. Don’t you see? He’s taking what you deserve away from you, from Cody, from me—and I’m not going to have it.”
“He’s our older brother, Mark; he treats us well.”
“He doesn’t treat us like we’re siblings. We’re the irritable boarders in his life,” Mark told her. “Let me deal with this myself, Paige. Did you give Mama her pain meds, yet?”
Paige shook her head. “I’m going there now…”
His younger sister excused herself. Paige had always been a sweet girl, one who never complained. She was right, though, he thought. James treats Paige and Cody better than he ever treats me. Sibling rivalry had been blown out of proportion, he knew, but there was no backing down on it.
The damage was far too great to mend, and the only way for things to be better was if he got his fair share. Would I turn my older brother into a pauper just by taking the company out of his hands? His older brother was a monster. A tyrant. Aliya was unfortunate collateral damage. He felt sorry for her, somehow. He played with her, but he knew how nice she was. Would she ever date me again?
Nope, he thought, the Douglas brothers have done too much damage.