Lahat ng Kabanata ng Divorced But Desired by the Mafia King: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

[Addison] I’m too tired in both body and spirit to deal with all of this nonsense. Now that Michael and Evelyn have arrived back home, Evelyn is screaming, Michael is demanding to know the truth, and I…well I just want to go home. Because this house isn’t my home anymore. While the Grant estate isn’t my home either, it is at least a safe place to rest. I’m making my own home now, one piece at a time. Evelyn’s hands are on her hips, her eyes burning with self-righteous fury as if I had somehow wronged her. Before I had realized the truth about how little Michael cares about me, I might have wasted my time and energy trying to explain myself. But what’s the point of any of that? He’s going to believe what he wants. Besides, I’m done trying with him. I just want him to let go. “Do you want to get the police involved,” I sigh wearily looking back at the car where Livy is thankfully resting under the watchful eye of one of the guards. “Because then I’d have to be honest about everyt

[Addison]Michael doesn’t make idle threats. That’s all I could think of as the rest of the week blended into the weekend as I waited for the other shoe to drop and for all of his new promises to land in my lap like an unwanted present. I’ve known Michael for 7 years, and have been married to him for 5 of those, and in all that time I have seen him carry through on his threats without fail.Before it had been opponents across the courtroom. This time it’s me. Winning is his favorite thing to do—it always has been. Whether it's in school or in life, he isn’t satisfied until he is on top. “How did I never notice that,” I sigh as I put on my suit jacket. I’m going into Grant Group today, and I want to make sure I look up to standard. Giving myself one last look, I add a bit more foundation to hide the last of the bruising from the beating inflicted by my own son. I hadn’t realized how many times his little fists hit my face until I saw the evidence the next day. “Good Morning,” Hunte

[Addison] The elderly man stood a bit straighter, scanning me with his critical eye in the way he does a law brief, meticulously and with the ability to see everything. As if he has been frozen in time these last 5 years, nothing about him has changed--not his tattered tweed suit or the way he looks down his nose at you, inspecting you like one might ponder a particularly nasty problem to be solved. When people think of the autistic savant, the person with no emotional tact but with a keen mind that can see what others cannot, they could be discussing Professor Magnus McCannon. My teacher, mentor, and the hardest professor I ever knew. I was considered smart. Very smart. It was the reason I was admitted into law school so young, after completing my undergrad studies. I entered Harvard Law with perfect grades and several letters of recommendation. But my mind is nothing compared to Professor McCannon’s. As a child he was deemed a super genius, his complex mind and his ability

[Addison]The elevator closes and then descends, taking Charley with it. I receive a text immediately after from her, stating that she'll meet me at the reception desk tomorrow for the rest of our orientation. Fuming, I turn back towards my current situation. The professor is watching me patiently, waiting to see my next move. I know he's analyzing me even now, judging me in his intuitive way. My skin crawls under his scrutiny even as I turn away, looking up and down as if the solution to my situation were in the ceiling or floor. I thought Hunter and I were becoming friends. But friends don’t set other friends up for emotional abuse. Friends don’t hold each other hostage, denying them the chance to leave the building. Friends don’t do…whatever it is Hunter Grant is doing by bringing me to this apartment to be alone with my professor. He’s going to hear from me. This whole situation is absolutely infuriating. I didn't sign up to come in and be harrassed by my old professor. “M

[Hunter]“Mr. Grant!” I hear her voice call out even one floor up. “You jerk! Come out and talk to me!”Snickering, I look up at Reggie, who shakes his head. “She isn’t wrong, you know.” When I raise a defiant eyebrow he shrugs, smirking. “What, Hunter, I call it as I see it. You know that. It’s one of the reasons you like me. Besides, sir, you know you could have given her a heads up before she came in this morning so that she could be prepared.”“I honestly had no idea that she was being sincere when she said she didn’t want him here,” I make a weak attempt at excusing my behavior. “I thought she was being humble.” Now it is Reggie’s turn to raise an eyebrow and I groan. “Alright, you got me. I owe her an apology.” “Flowers or jewelry?” Reggie’s face is deadpan. He’s serious. “Or something larger? Maybe a new car, a villa.” “We aren’t a couple, Mr. Carter,” My face burns as I turn away from him, shuffling papers from the right side of my desk to the left waiting for him to look s