Chapter 36

The night air was thick with tension, winding itself around Wellington Holdings like an invisible noose. Ronald Wellington sat in his private office, a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring out at the city lights winking in the distance. His sharp, chiseled profile in the glass was as enigmatic as ever, but the pressure weighing on his mind was more than normal.

Behind him, Catherine was lounging on the leather couch, legs elegantly crossed, her own drink untouched on the table before her. Her perfectly manicured fingers tapped gently against the armrest, a rhythm of impatience.

"We need to talk about Axel," she said at last, shattering the silence.

Ronald did not turn around. He sipped his drink slowly, letting the liquor burn its way down his throat before he spoke. "What about him?

Catherine's lips tightened. She had expected that response. Unemotional. Detached. Cold. As always.

"You know perfectly well what about." Her voice acquired a slight edge. "He's coming of age, Ronald. And I won't have him distracted by—" she waved her hand dismissively "—trivial affections and irrelevant influences."

Ronald did finally turn, his eyes steely. "You mean by me."

Catherine met his gaze, not flinching. "You're too soft on him."

A humorless laugh escaped Ronald's lips. "Because I will not cast him off like some unwanted parcel?"

"It is for his own good," Catherine objected. "You and I both know the kind of world he will inherit. He requires discipline, structure. If he stays here, he will be beset on all sides by distractions—people who will take advantage of him, undermine him."

Ronald stared at her for a while, then set his glass down on the desk. "You mean like you?"

Catherine's expression did not alter, but her hand tightened on the armrest. "That's not what this is about."

"No?" Ronald took a step closer, his proximity choking even in his immobility. "Then tell me, Catherine, why are you so keen to send our son away? What are you afraid of?"

“I’m afraid of him turning out like you,” she snapped before she could stop herself.

The room fell into silence.

Catherine’s breath hitched as she realized what she had said, but she didn’t take it back. She held his gaze, challenging, waiting for a reaction.

But Ronald merely smirked. Not a trace of emotion flickered in his gaze. “That would be unfortunate, wouldn’t it?”

Catherine stood up abruptly. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

Ronald leaned against his desk, crossing his arms. “I haven’t agreed to anything.”

“You don’t have to.” Her voice was smooth, confident. “I’ll do what’s best for our son. With or without your approval.”

She turned on her heels, walking toward the door.

“Catherine.”

She stopped but didn’t turn around.

Ronald’s voice was quieter now, but there was a weight behind it that made her spine stiffen.

If you make a move without my approval…" His voice dropped into something ominous. ".you will regret it."

Catherine's throat tightened, but she kept her head held high as she departed, slamming the door behind her.

Ronald released a slow breath, rubbing his temples. A storm was coming—one he wasn't sure even he was prepared for.

*******

Amelia sat in her hotel suite, water glass in hand, staring out at the city skyline. The adrenaline from past altercations continued to course through her veins, but she could not afford to indulge in emotions. She needed to keep moving, and for that, she required answers.

A sharp rap on the door pulled her out of her thoughts. She squared her shoulders. "Come in."

The door opened, and in came Mr. Daniels, Jake Wellington's former lawyer. His mannerisms were ever composed, his movements deliberate. A man well aware of the weight of power and secrets.

"Miss Rodriguez," he greeted, taking a seat opposite her. "You requested a meeting?"

Amelia set her glass down. "Yes. I need to know the scope of Jake's arrangements. There are still too many questions unanswered, and I won't go into Wellington Holdings uninformed."

Mr. Daniels slid his glasses up his nose. "I expected as much. As you're aware, Jake Wellington didn't leave any loopholes in his will. His decision to leave his legacy to you was deliberate. The power of attorney seals that, with no challenge from the Wellington family."

Amelia nodded. "That much, I understand. But there is something I need you to clarify—why me?"

Mr. Daniels exhaled, folding his hands together. "Jake didn't trust many individuals. In his final months, he believed you were the sole person who could keep his legacy clean, free from the corruption within the Wellington family. More importantly…." He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "He believed you were the only person who was strong enough to shatter the grip that Catherine and Beatrice have built over the years."

Amelia's jaw tightened. "So this wasn't an inheritance. This was a war he left me to fight."

"In a way, yes," Mr. Daniels admitted. "But he also left you the tools with which to win. His investments, his stocks, and his influence—these are all yours now."

Amelia leaned forward, her fingers tapping against the armrest of her chair. "And Ronald?"

Mr. Daniels’ eyes sharpened. "Ronald Wellington is unpredictable. He may not have been as involved in the company’s internal dealings as Jake, but he’s still a Wellington. He won’t stand by idly if he believes you’re a threat."

A smirk ghosted Amelia’s lips. "Then I’ll make sure he sees me as something else—an ally or a necessary evil. Whichever benefits me most."

Mr. Daniels dryly laughed. "An aggressive move. But be cautious, Miss Rodriguez. The Wellingtons don't take kindly to betrayal. And if they were to find out—"

He abruptly stopped himself, but Amelia caught it. Her expression was blank. "If they find out what, Mr. Daniels?"

He hesitated before shaking his head. "Nothing. Just be cautious."

Amelia glanced him up and down before standing. "I appreciate discretion, but I dislike secrets being kept from me."

Mr. Daniels stood as well, buttoning his suit jacket. "I only keep secrets that aid in protecting my clients."

"Good," Amelia said, a sharpness to her tone. "Then make certain I'm always the first person you tell when that changes."

Mr. Daniels inclined his head. "Of course, Miss Rodriguez."

As he departed the room, Amelia exhaled slowly. Jake had left her a kingdom, but to reign over it was to step into the very same fire that had destroyed him.

And she had no other option but to walk straight through it.

******

Catherine slipped into a dimly lit café, her coat wrapped around her form as she worked her way to the back corner where Reynolds, her old spy, was already waiting.

He had on a simple suit, a full cup of coffee in front of him, untouched. His dark eyes flicked up when she entered, an aware smirk playing at his lips.

"You always have a job for me," he mused as she sat across from him.

Catherine got straight to the point. "I need you to work fast this time."

Reynolds leaned forward slightly. "Still looking into Amelia?

She scoffed. "Of course."

He studied her for a moment. "You're more desperate than usual."

"I don't pay you to ask questions."

Reynolds chuckled. "Good enough."

Catherine's eyes gleamed. "I need to know everyone she's met since she returned. Her habits, her weaknesses… and most of all, how far she'll go to protect what's hers."

Reynolds drummed his fingers on the table. "And what do I get out of it?"

Catherine slid an envelope across the table. He looked in—fat wads of bills.

His grin widened. "Pleasure doing business with you."

As Catherine stood to go, she snarled, "Make sure you don't disappoint me."

Reynolds saw her out, a sparkle of amusement playing in his eyes. "Oh, Amelia Rodriguez… you're in for quite a surprise."

*******

Catherine stormed into the master bedroom of their mansion, her fury still boiling from her altercation with Ronald. The room was dark, with shadows cast across the lavish room, the air thick with unresolved tension. 

She whirled around as she heard the door close behind her. Ronald stood in the doorway, tall and menacing, his face expressionless, but his eyes gleamed with something malevolent.

"You had no right to question me like that,' she spat, stepping closer to him, her fists clenched at her sides.

Ronald merely gazed at her, his calm an infuriating counterpart to the fires raging through her bloodstream. "You make decisions without me, Catherine. I don't like it."

Her breath caught, not just from anger but from the inevitable attraction between them. It was always like thisfighting and wanting, clashing and needing. She hated him, and yet she desired him. And he knew it.

"You think you can manipulate everything," she accused, her voice lower now, edged with something more deadly.

Ronald took another step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "! don't need to control everyone. Just you."

Her pulse quickened. He was close now, his scent—clean, male, heady, enveloping her like a straitjacket.

"Oh, is that so?" she goaded, tipping her chin in challenge.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You always come back to me, Catherine. No matter how hard you fight it."

His hand came up, fingers trailing up her exposed arm, sending shivers racing across her skin. She should push him away, should resist, but instead she leaned into his caress, her body betraying her.

"Shut up," she breathed, her voice barely audible.

Ronald didn't comply. Instead, he seized her waist and pulled her hard against him, his body stiff and unyielding. "Make me."

Her cry was torn from her lips, but he swallowed it the moment his mouth crashed down on hers.

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't sweet. It was a battle—a battle of tongues, teeth, and dominance.

Catherine sunk her claws into his shirt, tearing it, nails raking down his chest. His response was to clamp his grip on her hips, fingers bruising as he dragged her into the door.

"Always so eager,' he breathed into her mouth, his own voice rasping with desire.

"Shut up and take me, Ronald," she gasped, legs wrapping around his waist.