The Bride He Bought

𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙍𝘼 What is stupidity? Stupidity is deciding to confront your father’s nemesis instead of being at the only job that keeps the lights on. Stupidity is marching into Moretti Towers with nothing but anger and a handful of courage from how triggered you are from a single post. That’s where I am right now, stupid, reckless, and I've thrown the consequences of what im about to do, out the window Currently, I'm still outside the building, looking up at the tall sky scraper. There's still time for me to let go of this foolishness and just go to work. But I won't. I've come too far to back out now. I smooth down my shirt and I walk in. Immediately I pass through those revolving doors, I'm instantly taken aback by how cold it is in here. Shivering a little, I make my way towards the receptionist desk. “Hi,” I say, barely above a whisper. “I’d like to see Mr. Moretti.” The too polished receptionist looks up from her desk. Her eyes scan me, pause at my shoes, and then my unruly

𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙀 The car door slams, but it barely has any effect because the person who just did that is so small. I almost laugh, but I don't. I barely even blink. Her sharp words, deceptively calm under that soft voice of hers ring in my head, “I hope you rot, you manipulative bastard.” She used to seem so proper, when did Miss Vance start swearing? I rake my hands through my hair. Our interaction though horrendous is the least of my concern. I saw Nichole. She was standing across the street near a cafe, with her phone clutched tightly in one hand, and an oversized sunglasses failing to hide the ridiculous wig she probably thought made her discreet. It's been months since I've heard from her. Our last interaction was dramatic to say the least. She'd come to my house in a silly skimpy dress, trying to seduce me. I was irritated, so irritated, I had my security team throw her out of my house screaming and kicking, late in the night. I thought that would have drilled the mem

𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙍𝘼 The ride back home is terrible as I feel a strong sense of uneasiness. That experience at the station was horrible. This has to enter my list of top ten stupid things I've done in my entire life, with thinking I can confront Dante over something that happened years ago. I should have just gone to work. Why did I let myself get so triggered? For all these years, I'd remained silent, watching my dad get humiliated and disregard by everyone in his circle. I watch him become a shell of a man because of his illness. I'd been managing to hold it down for so long, but I'm so tired. When I finally get back home, the apartment feels unusually still. I unlock the door and step inside. The late afternoon light spills through the curtains, soft and golden. The air is warm, and the scent of old fabric and cough syrup hits my nose immediately. Everything’s quiet, but nothing feels right. My father looks up from the couch, brows furrowed. “You’re home early,” he says weak

𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙀 My study hums with the low murmur of the cars and honks beyond the windows, but inside, it's still, silent and controlled. Just the way I like it. Francesca stands to my left, with a tablet in her hand, always prepared. Lorenzo Ricci, my long-time lawyer, is already pacing. Anita, my PR manager, is seated across from me, legs crossed, black stilettos stabbing into my carpet like she's in a photo shoot instead of a crisis meeting. I don’t waste time with greetings. "Status," I say in a clipped tone. Francesca taps her screen. "The file on Alera Grace Vance. As requested." I accept the tablet. Her name sits at the top of the document in bold block letters like a headline in red, announcing doom. Name: Alera Grace Vance Age: 25 Education: Bachelor’s in Economics from Princeton. MBA from Columbia. Graduated with distinction. Employment History: Interned under Glover Vance, CEO of VanceCorp, from age 16 through college. Assistant financial analyst at Bell & Rowe (6 mon

𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙍𝘼 Daddy's stable, for now. But that doesn't mean he's okay. After the scare two nights ago, the doctors ran more scans and confirmed that he suffered stroke and it was worse than they originally thought. I would have to keep him hospitalized, so they can monitor his recovery. But, for this to even be remotely possible, I have to pay his bills, which have risen to over eighteen thousand dollars. Eighteen thousand dollars, I obviously don't have. His doctors have been kind, but, even thier kindness can't keep us from following the policy of the hospital. That means, if I don't deposit half of his bills before the end of this week, they'll discharge dad. They'll discharge him, even if he's currently paralyzed. I can't let that happen. Keeping away from hospitals has been his idea, to reduce cost, but look where that got him, back in the hospital with a even higher bill. How, I'm going to raise his bills, I have no idea, but I have to come up with something somehow,