Roxy I was in trouble. Scratch that, I was in deep shit. All over again, I felt like a schoolgirl sitting at my desk during English period, staring up at my handsome teacher and dreamily imagining a sunset wedding and a happily ever after instead of paying attention to the words taught, thinking I was in love. Mr. Flanders, with his kind eyes and that perpetually rumpled tweed jacket, had been the object of my adolescent affections, a safe and distant fantasy. Except it wasn't a forty-something-year-old Mr. Flanders standing in front of me right now. It was Daniel Woods, holding out a bag of takeout in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He looked at me with so much worry that I felt a familiar prickle behind my eyes, the unwelcome gathering of tears. And this time, the feeling wasn't a schoolgirl fantasy. This time, I wasn't just thinking I was in love; I knew it, as surely as I knew my own name. I was stupidly, irrevocably in love with Daniel Woods. Wasn't that ridiculo
Marceline The accusation hung in the air. It was a heavy, undeniable truth. I watched him, daring him to deny it. His face was pale, his jaw clenched, but he had no retort. He simply sat there, caught in the web of his own moral inconsistencies.Silence passed between us for several minutes before Conrad, in the face of my scathing words, surprised me yet again. "How could I not be a hypocrite?" he demanded, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm. "I learned from the best, mother. You."The bold statement took the wind clean out of my sails. My mouth fell open, and I simply gaped at him, stunned. It wasn’t the accusation that shocked me, I was well aware of my own influence on him. It was the raw audacity of him throwing it back in my face, acknowledging it so openly.Heatedly, he continued, his voice rising in intensity. "You've been pushing me to covet the CEO position all my life. You've been the one pumping me with poison, pumping me with ideals that push me to play dirty."I scoffe
MarcelineBefore I could begin to threaten Susanna, Conrad added his two cents, effectively throwing a match into the volatile mix. "I won't be going through with this nonsense excuse for a plan either," he stated, his voice laced with the an arrogant conviction that made me want to smack him across the face. That was how much it was grating on my nerves. "I already told you that." He then rose from his seat, a dismissive gesture that spoke volumes of his utter disregard for my authority. "I'm leaving. This has been a waste of my time."Fury, hot and instantaneous, burst in my head. A vein throbbed at my temple, a familiar precursor to one of my less restrained moments. I jumped to my feet, mirroring his sudden movement, and barked, "Sit down! Right now!"To my mild surprise, he did. Reflexively, he followed the order before he could even think to refuse, a flicker of that childhood obedience still ingrained in him, despite his best efforts to shed it. I glared at him, a silent warni
Marceline Or was this just another one of their dramatic public displays, designed to shock and entertain? With those two, it was always hard to tell.As he drew closer, Conrad directed his ire at me, his gaze shifting from Susanna to land squarely on my face. "When you called me," he began, his voice laced with acid, "you didn't say Susanna would be joining us."He was right, of course. I hadn’t. This was done on purpose, a surprise only because I didn't want to give him any excuse for not being able to come.But I pretended to be surprised, as my eyes widened slightly and I tilted my head to the side. "Oh, didn't I mention it?" I asked, feigning a small, apologetic frown. "It must have slipped my mind."It was a flimsy excuse, even for me, and I knew he wouldn't buy it for a second. Still, I continued, my voice smooth and unhurried, "Do sit down, both of you. Susanna is already here now anyway, and what I have to say pertains to both of you, so it's all for the best, really."Conra
MarcelineThe air in my office had grown stale from too many closed doors and too much heated talk. Simon Hughes sat across from me, papers in hand and worry etched into every corner of his weathered face. His mouth moved rapidly, spinning concerns into warnings, but I barely heard him.Abigail’s death had been a breakthrough move, an unexpected blessing wrapped in tragedy. With her out of the picture, there was no better time to tighten the noose I was wrapping around Alexander's neck. The public’s attention was already burning hot, and I wasn’t about to let the flame die down. Momentum was everything in this game. Lose it, and you lose the war.Still, Simon wouldn’t stop wringing his hands over morale, over optics, over Conrad’s silence.“There are murmurs,” he said cautiously, adjusting his glasses. “Even among our supporters. They’re beginning to question why Conrad hasn’t granted a single interview or made a statement. It’s starting to look like he has something to hide.”I let t
AbigailOne of the peacocks in the garden let out a small crow, as if it was as amazed as I was. “Four and five were Lucent Curation and Northover Supplies. Both just bled out slowly. Their biggest clients suddenly pulled out and dissolved their contracts with them overnight. I looked into it, and guess what? Those clients were advised to do so by anonymous insiders. There’s no official trail, but there’s a pattern of calculated stuff that spooked investors enough to jump ship.”I absorbed everything she was saying quietly, my fingers brushing slightly on the paper still resting in my lap. It all felt too precise to be random.“And number six,” Roxy said, coming to a stop in front of me, hands on her hips. “Omnivise Imports. A massive logistics company tied to Bonafide. The government just opened an investigation into them for large scale fraud—tax evasion, false customs declarations, the works. It’s going to be a bloodbath.”I stared up at her, stunned. “And you’re saying all of the