Chapter 5- Breather Before the Storm

ALEXANDER

I'm in my office.

The corner office. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A view of the city that most people would kill for. The desk is polished mahogany. The chair is leather. Everything is expensive. Everything is cold. Everything is exactly how I want it.

My father's voice buzzes from my phone. Speakerphone. His usual threats.

"Alexander, I've been patient. Too patient. But I'm done waiting. You need to find someone. Settle down. Show me you're serious about the company. This isn't a request. It's an order."

I lean back in my chair. Stare at the ceiling.

"Father, I can't just find someone in the blink of an eye. You taught me that emotional attachments are a liability. Now you're complaining that I'm detached?"

I laugh. It's hollow. Bitter.

"You see the irony in that, don't you?"

"You think this is a joke?" His voice sharpens. "I built this company from nothing. I gave you everything. And this is how you repay me? With sarcasm?"

"I'm not joking. I'm pointing out the contradiction."

"The decision is final." His voice is ice. "You have to have someone in your life. Someone stable. Someone suitable. Either you do that, or you can forget about taking over the company. I'll find someone else. Someone who understands the meaning of legacy."

"Who? You don't have anyone else. I'm your only son."

"Then act like it."

The line goes dead.

Fuck.

I rest my head in my hands. The heels of my palms press into my eyes. I sigh. Long. Heavy.

My life is suffocating. Every day. Every breath. The expectations. The demands. The weight of a legacy I never asked for.

My mind drifts.

Back to last night. To the only time I actually felt something that wasn't pressure. When that woman walked up to me in the bar. Asked me to fuck her. It was a demand, but different from the ones my family makes. It wasn't expectation. It wasn't unattainable heights. She just... asked.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Why am I thinking about her?

Just then, a familiar voice cuts through my thoughts.

"Well, well, well. What kind of future CEO looks so frustrated?"

I look up. Dean. The ever-persistent fuck of a best friend.

He's standing in my doorway. Leaning against the frame. A smirk on his face. He's wearing a perfectly tailored Tom Ford suit. Navy. Probably cost more than most people's rent.

He offers himself a seat without asking. Settles into the chair across from my desk. Picks up a pen from my desk. Twirls it between his fingers.

"Let me guess. Daddy dearest again? The usual lecture about finding a suitable wife? Continuing the legacy?"

"Something like that."

"Fucking hell, man. He's relentless. What did he say this time? That you need to find a nice girl from a good family? Pop out a few heirs?"

"He said I either find someone or I'm out. No company. No inheritance."

Dean whistles. "Harsh. So what are you going to do? Go on a dating app? Start speed dating?"

I shoot him a look.

"Shutting up is an option."

He laughs. Leans back. Puts his feet on my desk. I don't bother telling him to move. He never listens anyway.

"So, what are you doing here?" I ask. "Don't CEOs have companies to run? Or do you just wander into other people's offices for entertainment?"

"I'm just checking on my best friend." He clutches his chest. Feigns hurt. "Is that a crime?"

"Fuck you."

He laughs again. It's loud. Unapologetic.

We sit in silence for a moment. Then Dean's eyes narrow.

"So," he says, leaning forward. "The woman. From last night."

I freeze. I don't react. I keep my face blank.

"Who said anything about a woman?"

Dean smirks. Picks up the pen again. Twirls it.

"You confirmed it. Right there. By how you reacted last night. When I asked if you had someone over. You got all defensive. Which means there was definitely someone over."

"You're crazy."

"Am I?" He leans back. Crosses his arms. "So there was no woman? No mysterious girl who showed up at your penthouse and made you kick me out?"

I don't answer.

Silence.

One. Two. Three.

Dean breaks it.

"Was she beautiful?" he asks. "Did she have a big ass? A nice rack? Come on, man. Give me something."

I sigh. Rub my temples.

"It was just a one-night stand. She's no one."

His eyes light up. "Wait. Was she one of those girls from Pandora's Box? The ones you registered for? Because those girls are—"

I frown. I don't know why, but him comparing that woman to a sex club girl pisses me off.

"It wasn't a sex club girl. She was just a woman. From a bar. Who asked me."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Wait. She asked you? A woman walked up to you and asked you to fuck her? And you said yes?"

"Yes."

"Fucking hell." He shakes his head. "Did you at least get her name?"

I don't answer.

"You didn't. You had sex with a woman and didn't even get her name. That's so boring. So predictable. You're like a robot who just happens to have a dick."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying. You could have at least—"

"Dean." I cut him off. "What did you want to run by me last night?"

He sighs. Dramatic. "Fine. But we're not done with this conversation."

He starts talking about something. A deal. An acquisition. I'm not paying attention.

My mind drifts.

To her.

The woman from the bar.

The way she looked at me. The way she gasped when I pushed into her. The way she came apart in my arms.

I should forget her. She's no one. A stranger. Just sex.

But I can't stop thinking about her.

— — —

MIA

I make it to Charlotte's apartment building.

It's a walk-up in the East Village, on St. Marks Place. The stairs are narrow. The paint is peeling. Someone's playing loud music on the second floor. It smells like curry and weed.

I knock on her door.

She opens it. Grins. Her blonde hair is wild, like she just rolled out of bed. She's wearing an oversized vintage band tee—The Ramones. Her leggings are covered in cat hair.

"Mia!" She pulls me into a crushing hug.

"Ouch... ouch, too tight."

She releases me. "Sorry, sorry. Come in, come in."

I walk in. The apartment is small. Cozy. Crammed with stuff—books, records, art projects, empty wine bottles. A cat I don't recognize is sleeping on the couch. Charlotte never told me she got a cat.

"Who's that?" I point.

"Luna. She's new. Don't change the subject." She grabs my arm. "Sit down. Start talking. I need details."

I sit on the couch. Luna opens one eye, then closes it. Charlotte plops down across from me, cross-legged. Her eyes are wide. Hungry.

"Okay, okay," I say. "Give me a second."

"Fuck that. What happened? How was it? Was his dick big? If it was, did he use it properly?"

I laugh. Shake my head. "Charlotte."

"Don't Charlotte me. Spill."

I take a breath. Then I start talking.

"It was... intense. Like, really intense. He was huge, Charlotte. I didn't think it would fit. And he knew exactly what he was doing. Like, exactly. The way he touched me. The way he moved. I couldn't think straight."

Her eyes are practically sparkling. "Yes. Yes. This is what I wanted to hear."

"I felt... I felt something. For the first time in a long time. Not the empty thing I usually feel. Something real."

"Okay, okay. Important question. Was he a moaner? Or was he quiet?"

I think about it. "Dominant. He didn't moan. He commanded. He told me what to do. Where to put my hands. How to move. It was..."

"Hot?" she offers.

"Everything," I admit. "It was everything. But I wish..."

"What?"

I shift. Look down at my hands.

"I wish that kiss was more than just kissing. That was the best kiss I've ever had. I wish his lips and tongue went down on me. All over me. I wanted more of his mouth."

Charlotte whistles. "Damn, girl. You got it bad for a stranger."

"I don't even know his name."

"And that's the beauty of it." She leans forward. "This is the best bad decision you've ever made. You finally did something for yourself. Just sex. No strings. No feelings. But..."

"But what?"

"Too bad you can't repeat it. Because you don't know anything about him."

I sigh. "Yeah. He was way better than Justin. And now there's no way I can fantasize about Justin when that man painted a whole new picture of sex in my head."

Charlotte smirks. "Congratulations. You've had a sexual awakening."

I laugh. It comes out raw. Real. It feels good.

"Can I ask you something?" I say.

"Anything."

"Can I stay here for a bit? I can't go back to Justin's apartment. He doesn't deserve to see me again. And I don't have anywhere else to go."

Charlotte's face softens. She reaches out. Grabs my hand.

"Of course, Mia. Stay as long as you want. I'll help you go get your stuff whenever you're ready. And if Justin tries anything..."

"What?"

"I have a bat. It's under my bed. And I'm not afraid to use it."

I laugh again. It's easier this time.

"Thanks, Charlotte."

"Anytime, babe. Anytime.”