Chapter 6

DEVIN’S POV

Stella had cried out her heart and tried sniffling toward me, except it didn’t work. I wasn’t interested in her anyways. Fine, I did like Stella, but love? That was a huge word for me. I couldn’t keep up with it.

“Devin? Where are you heading? Let’s have breakfast,” she called hastily as I stopped to a halt by the door, my hands resting on the knob. I was in no mood for any stunt she was about to pull. Reluctantly, I turned backward, not bothering to hide the frown on my face.

“Breakfast?” I asked, tilting my head, playing it out with heavy sarcasm laced into my words.

“Is that meant to be a joke to you, Stella? I do not wish to have this conversation today anyways. I have to be somewhere else, I have a business meeting today,” I retorted hastily, pissed at the fact that she really believed I would forgive her.

We weren’t any different. We both cheated. I was even more of a monster if I was keeping that fact from her, but it was removing the idle truth. Stella cheated on purpose. I? I didn’t. Mine was an honest drunken mistake. Well, to be fair, it didn’t mean I wouldn’t tap that ass again if I got a chance.

Jesus Christ! Fuck! Get a hold of yourself, Devin.

I ignited the engine to the car, hastily driving out of her garage on time to see Stella’s hurt and pissed expression watching me through the rear mirror.

I needed to speak with my father. I really needed to get things over with. I’d ignored every call, every alarm, and every business schedule. I made a straight line for my father’s office.

“I’d like to meet with my father,” I spoke hastily and in a curt manner to Grace, his secretary. Grace looked somewhat surprised to see I’d broken out of my morning routine, but she hadn’t put up an argument either.

“He’s in there right now, but I’m sorry to tell you we have to leave for a meeting—a trip for a breakfast meeting with an important client in about… seven minutes,” Grace spoke, not once lifting her eyes off the laptop before her.

“Thank you, Grace,” I greeted, blowing her a kiss as I marched toward my father’s office, buzzing with anticipation. This was better. I couldn’t have stopped the wedding to a halt. I couldn’t tell my father his son, whom he’d spent lots of money on and was about to become CEO of his company, was… well, gay.

It was as good as possible, and I was about to wager my hand.

“Devin?” my father called, putting the phone away from his ear. His eyes darted to the door behind me and then back to me.

“Why are you here? And where’s Stella?” he asked with a very gruff tone that showed how displeased he was by my sudden appearance—or maybe by the fact that I wasn’t on my honeymoon, rolling in sheets with who was deemed fit to be my wife.

“I needed to see you as soon as daybreak, and Stella’s the exact reason I’m here. She’s cheating on me, Dad. I can’t exactly forgive her. I’m here to inform you before making a public decision that the marriage would be dissolved.”

Father hadn’t interrupted my words. He’d only listened and nodded before he gestured for me to take a seat across from him.

I watched patiently as he lit the end of his cigar and took a drag from it before throwing his legs over his table.

“What makes you think I’ll allow a divorce? You got married when? Forty-eight hours ago? Are you sick in the head, son?” he asked so easily, his tone not once holding a different pitch that it confused me. Was he really saying this? Or was he equally pissed as I was?

“Didn’t you hear me? She cheated! She’s the one who should be getting the blame. She’s the one who got married forty-eight hours ago even after knowing—”

“Enough already,” Father finally snapped, raising his voice as he spoke. He buffed out the end of the cigarette into the ashtray before taking another drag. I watched him rise to his feet as he took slow strides toward me, his eyes filled with anger.

“The girl cheated what? Once? Twice? Who cares about who she fucks? You both are rich. You think you have time for romance and playhouse?” he questioned again in low tones. I frowned deeper, hating how much he believed he could keep pressuring me into being his submissive little bitch of a son.

“You both are married. It’s final. If you do not trust her enough to fuck her, suit yourself, but there would be no divorce, Devin. You’ve put your life into this work, into this company. You wanna lose your position now? After everything?”

My breath hitched. My heart hammered hard against my ribs.

Everything went still. I couldn’t try thinking clearly. He was right, and he damn near knew it. I’d put in too much, done too much, sacrificed way too much. I couldn’t just up and give it away.

“That’s what I thought. So, son—get back home. Yell if you must, but get that marriage going. I’ve finally secured a partnership with her parents, and the papers have been signed. If they decide to pull out now, do you know how much of a loss it would be to our company? The dent in our finances if they decide to sue?” Father asked again, each of his words harrowingly cold and full of the intention to stab me right in the heart and yank at the invisible threats he used in controlling me.

The door pushed open, and Grace’s face popped out behind it.

“Sir, the breakfast meeting—we have to go now,” Grace spoke, her eyes darting to me, and a gentle smile dipped on the sides of her lips. I nodded anyway and stood to my feet.

My father cocked one of his eyebrows up in a questioning manner. I gave

him a curt nod before storming away through the doors.