Thirty minutes later, Shawn shook his head, trying to forget what Dave said before he went to the door. He decided to evaluate the reception at the ballroom instead. There was, at least, a bartender in the mini-bar behind the pink and white garland-covered area. He thought that the more he needed to have another drink, the more confused he got. Looking at the grandeur of the reception, he sighed and signalled a drink to the bartender. He sat at the white table and looked at the expensive flowers and sweet-scented candles. The bartender glanced up at him, then went back to his duties after giving him his drink and continuing his conversation with the man in a dark suit sitting on a stool at the minibar, drinking. Shawn saw no waitress. Everyone was busy in the reception main ballroom, but obviously someone had waited on the men in the booth, so he figured the waitress would be right back or the bartender would double and wait tables too. He looked up as someone cleared their throat n
Since she was a child, Elizabeth Grant had known she would be the richest, most popular, and best-known among her group of privileged friends. Young Elizabeth had never had cause to ponder her own importance. Her early years had been a young girl’s perfection, right from the very day of her birth. It was true that Elizabeth was the heir to an old and affluent nobility, but unlike most other lordly families, her parents, Lord and Lady Grant, were an odd couple. Married without love, they hated each other to death. Both were resentful, rude, and selfish. They saw their daughter’s birth not as the arrival of an heir but rather as that of a child who would save their already failing business and wealth. And so there were celebrations, fêtes, and festivities other than those of a mother and father staring in wonderment at their new daughter. The Grants were young parents—Edward was barely twenty-two and Vivian had just turned twenty—but they were practical, ambitious, and strong, and the
Shawn and Catherine were on edge a week later, after their extravagant wedding; they slept separately, ignored each other, and rarely spoke except during office hours. Catherine was fine with it; at least she wouldn't have to hide her situation from him. Thankfully, she had been having mild morning sickness. Catherine sighed. Today it was Monday morning, and Shawn had been swearing and yelling at his laptop while doing a Zoom meeting. Yet she looked at her husband, who was wearing his favourite white shirt and navy suit. That was a problem. She thought, not because he doesn’t look good in it. He absolutely does. For Catherine, Shawn was the hottest man in existence, and she was not saying that as his wife or because she was pregnant. Like, objectively, she didn't think a better-looking man existed. And he looked good in anything. Swim trunks, which were her favourite, sweats? He totally killed it in those khakis—he was a walking catalogue model. But when this man put on his designer s
Shawn questions his own naveté. Of course, Catherine would not allow it or agree with him if he made another contract, but his grandfather had been telling him about wanting to hold a grandchild soon, and he wanted nothing but to make the old man happy. After all, he would do everything to make him optimistic. Shawn knew he was dying, and he wanted to give him everything before his last breath. But somehow, money couldn't save a life. He had been born with a golden and silver spoon in his mouth, and even after his parents' accident, their memory had been too far away for him to remember. Still, he was more than delighted to be supervised by his grandfather. Since his parents had passed away for many years, he was never forced to economise because his grandfather owned a hefty sum of states and businesses, but everything would be useless if he couldn't give the old man his final request, right? And who was he to ignore his last wishes? Shawn sighed and explained, "Catherine, please re
Shawn sat on the couch across from his bed and stared at it hard as he swallowed another mouthful of the expensive, rich brandy. There was something wrong with him, he thought. Earlier, when he explained to Catherine about the contract, the latter did not agree yet, asking him to give her some time to think. Yes, it was hard to imagine that he would end up asking a woman to bear him a child. Under different circumstances, the ladies would be queuing to give him an heir. After all, it would be a ticket to a wealthy life, but of course, being Catherine, she didn't just ask for a decent time to think about his proposal; she had her own requests and changes. How was it too hard to make her just say yes? Well, they just have to sleep and fuck, and voila! It was not that hard, yes? But damn if he was not confused. Yes, Catherine was different in many ways. It wasn't supposed to happen to him, but it was supposed to happen fast, no questions. He was the bloody Shawn Richmond. Everyone in Fr
One week later, Yes, it was simple. Catherine collapsed in front of Shawn, and, of course, he called the doctor, who informed Shawn that she was two months pregnant after a series of laboratory tests. To say Shawn was shocked was an understatement. He was so angry at her for not telling him. It took him two days to talk to her again when she went to the kitchen in the middle of the night to look for something to eat. Shawn had awoken and walked to the kitchen, where he discovered her eating a chocolate cake. “Catherine?” “Don't you dare judge!” she muttered, licking the icing on her finger. “I'm not here to judge. Um, are you okay?" To make matters more awkward, he ended up asking her about everything, even what she wanted to eat and how much she disliked eating food with garlic and cheese, and Shawn has been spoiling her ever since. Even asking Catherine to stop working as his secretary resulted in an argument, but he eventually relented. The next day, Catherine sat at her desk, s
Javier Longbottom, Shawn's distant cousin, reared back in his chair, glancing at the naked girls fanning out in all directions from the main room at his clubhouse. Extra young women had been brought in for tonight’s celebrations because a dozen of them hadn’t been enough to handle all the men on hand. This bullshit was the reason Elizabeth Grant left with her whiny ass friend early this afternoon. It stunned the hell out of Javier how he admired the beauty of other girls but only wanted to fuck one in particular. It was no secret that he was obsessed with Elizabeth Grant or anyone that had been on his cousin Shawn's radar. Despite his hatred for Sir Anthony, their beloved grandfather, and his hatred for Shawn, his obsession with his woman remained. And now that he has married his secretary, it won't be long before Javier needs to do something about it. For now, Elizabeth was his top priority. After all, the bitch had been concocting a plan to wreak havoc on Shawn Richmond's life, and
A few hours later, Javier was wondering where the hell Elizabeth was and what she wanted from Richmond's doctor. However, he walked out of the room and went to the VIP lounge whenever he slept on the premises. While the others spoke to some of the other gangs, he’d intended to make some calls and try to get a bead on the assholes who would mess up Shawn's marriage enough that he would want nothing from his wife. An hour later, Elizabeth returned with a smile on her face. "What took you so long?" He withdrew a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, his gaze never leaving the now naked woman on the bed. "Well, shopping, of course, it's none of your business, but well, I need a quick fuck to ease the tension, and I'll tell you about my plan with the doctor,” she smirked. “And guess what? Shawn's wife is pregnant." That bitch! She sneered as her smile faded, molten anger rolled through her, and rage gripped her upon thinking about the bitch. “They fuck! That alone is so obvious.” Rolling