18. The Club Scene

Nova

Nova…

“Nova!”

Grant's voice pulls me out of my daze. We are out again, at a bar this time. One of those exclusive places Xander and I couldn't get into on a girl's night out even if we wore our most expensive clothes.

So far he's taken me to dinner, a baseball game, an art gallery and wine tasting. I've been introduced to more CEOs and movie stars than I can count on my fingers.

But horse riding with Theodore was a wake-up call that reminded me I've gotten nowhere in the plan. I don't have any new information on the company's secret. Instead, I have recurring memories of what being in Theodore's arms feels like.

“Are you ok?” Grant shouts over the loud music with a bottle of vodka in his hand.

“I'm fine,” I reply with a forced smile. “Just thinking about something that happened.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He's considerate, as always. He's been the perfect gentleman each night; helping me out of the car, pouring my drinks, keeping me involved in conversations when we run into his high profile friends.

A tall, handsome, rich man who pays attention to my every need. He's everything I want in a man. On paper.

“I just…I don't know,” I say as I rub my temples. “I’ll be fine. I apologize for not being the best company tonight.”

He waves my concerns away. “I completely understand, Nova. We don't have to do anything but I'll be here if you need me.”

I smile sadly and turn away. Though I've enjoyed his company all week I will soon have to end this. I agreed to date after date thinking all the exposure to high class society would forward Kai’s plan somehow. Instead, what I found out is that Grant is not in the company's inner circle so I won't be getting any useful information from spending time with him.

And finding useful information is my focus right now.

If I'm going to get out of this contract without harming myself or Xander, I need to even the playground. I need to take it a step further, in fact, and punish the Thompson empire for what they did to my parents.

‘And your sudden desperation has nothing to do with your body's reaction to a particular horse riding man?’ a tiny voice mocks at the back of my head.

I huff in annoyance, refusing to think about it .

“You know what,” I say to Grant, pointing at the bottle of vodka. “Let's make this night more memorable.

“I thought you'd never ask.”

The shots come out flying. I down drink after drink and Grant and I head to the middle of the dancefloor.

The crowd moves like waves around us and I let the beat guide me, closing my eyes and pretending to feel free.

A few minutes of mild dancing, then the drinks kick off. His hands are on me, all over me, and I dance on him to forget. Their hands look similar, Grant looks like him, but there's something about it that doesn't feel right.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers into my ear with his hand on waist. But I feel nothing.

My body doesn't react to his touch and yet I know it would for his brother.

“That's it,” I say and drag Grant off the dance floor.

We stumble a few times, the effects of the drinks, but I manage to get us to the quietest corner I could find.

“Why did your family's company ruin my family's business?” I blurt out. “Why the fuck did they have to go that far to stop me from contacting him? Was it because of his new wife? Or was it punishment for daring to know the fucking golden heir of the empire? Just…why?”

It's reckless asking directly, but the liquid courage in me makes me not care. And with the way Grant's eyes fall, I'm banking on him not remembering this conversation tomorrow.

“Your family's business?” he echoes, his words slurring. “You're going to have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.”

“How many fucking businesses could there possibly be that fits that scenario?” I snap.

He lets out a loud sigh and the alcohol loosens his tongue. “How do you think empires are built? By being nice and hardworking? Father was a beast. He was cutthroat, cutting down opponents and suppressing future threats, whatever it takes. And Theodore,” he laughs bitterly, “Theodore is worse. He destroys businesses on a whim.”

“No…”

I knew it, I've been on the other end of it, but the confirmation still makes me sick. He really did destroy my family just to stop me from reaching out to him.

“I would have been the next company head but I refuse to be like them, so I'm stuck waiting on the sidelines for Theodore to fail…”

Grant continues in a drunken rant but I'm not paying attention anymore. I get up and walk away.

“Nova,” he shouts after me. “Where are you going?”

My feet move in front of each other, taking me out of the club and away from the world of flashing cameras and clinking glasses, further and further away from it all.

The icy cold of the late night air slams into me and bites through my short dress into my skin, causing goosebumps that I barely notice it.

I should have never sent that last letter. That's all I can think about.

We were fine. My parents were content running the hotel, Kai was a martial arts star winning national competitions, I was just a girl with high hopes for the future.

Everybody warned me against that relationship, everyone warned me to let him go after it ended.

But I pushed and pushed until there was pushback. Then everything went to hell. Rage bubbles up inside me and hot tears run down my face.

It's all my fault.

My parents tried hard to hold on and keep everything together, they really did. But it was just too much. I had to watch the stress get to them as they slowly fell apart.

If I had simply let go of Theodore Thompson, my father wouldn't have had that stroke alone in his office, trying to salvage the damage. My mother wouldn’t have followed shortly after, from the heartbreak.

Kai wouldn't have gotten introduced to the wrong crowd and turned to street fights to keep us afloat. I wouldn't have had to drag him home every night, scared that he would succumb to all the injuries.

All because I sent that last fucking letter.

My knees buckle and I hit the pavement hard, barely registering the pain. The dirt and dust welcome me roughly and I curl up in a ball, tears rushing out of my eyes.

Self loathing drowns out all my rage. I just want to disappear into nothingness.

It's all my fault.

My lips tremble as I whisper into the darkness of the indifferent city.

“Mama…Papa…I'm sorry.”