Chapter 31: Chapter thirty one

PENELOPE

(Two hours ago)

I rubbed my temple gently, trying to ease the pounding headache. My eyes darted to the wall clock, a sigh escaped my lips when I saw what time it was.

I was working late again. Not that I intended to. I just lost track of time again. I've not done a case like this in so long and it was only adding to my frustration.

Charles McAlister was proving to be a very difficult man to catch. There were literally no evidence against him. No camera recording. No physical bruise.

The people who knew about the abuse were too scared to talk. I didn't blame them. The minister was a very powerful man. No one wanted to get on his bad side

I had nothing against Charles except what happened the night he lost control. That was the only time he left visible bruises on Joyce's body.

But I was certain I would find something against him. He was going to lose control again. They always do.

A knock sounded on the door, breaking my comcerntration. The sound only intensified my pounding headache.

I wondered who would visit me this late. I'd ordered my assistant to retire for the day. I suspected I would end up working late.

“Come in.” I said.

I felt the hair on my body stood as the door creaked open. I didn't need to raise my head to know who just entered. He seem to suck the air in every room he walked into.

A strange kind of stillness ran down my spine with each step he took forward. I pressed my lips together trying hard to ignore the tinge of nervousness I felt.

I've known him for almost twenty years yet his mere presence still intimidate me. I always try not to show it, shoving my nervousness behind a fake bravado. But the aura he emits makes it almost impossible.

I guess that's how he has been able to amass his level of wealth. Through fear.

“I see you've been busy, Penelope.” His deep voice resonated through the entire office.

“It seems I wasn't the only one. It's been quite long, Jonathan.”

I finally raised my head, my gaze collided with a pair of gray eyes. His eyes seem to darken slightly, void of the usual light they carried few years back.

I remembered a time when his eyes didn't look so lifeless. A time when he actually laugh. A time when Cassandra was still alive. It seems like a lifetime ago when it's barely been over two years.

Jonathan continued his stroll towards me and sunk in the chair across from me. Lines of exhaustion were visible on his face, but that didn't make him any less intimidating.

“How is he?” he asked.

I knew who he was talking about. Jonathan only had two priorities in his life. His late wife and his son. I was certain he had spies reporting all of Drayton's movements to him.

But it has never stopped him from asking me every time. Or barging into my work place. He hadn't come here for a few months now.

“Same as when you called few days ago. He's fine.”

It seem he wanted to say something before deciding against it. He simply nodded.

He said nothing for a while, further adding to my apprehension.

“Is there a reason you came?” I asked, not bothering to hide the irritation in my voice. I was getting more frustrated by his presence and the persistent headache.

“I'm quite busy, as you can see.” I added, gesturing to the papers in front of me.

He exhaled sharply.

“I heard he skipped school few days ago, and he volunteered to tutor some girl in his class. A girl, Penelope. His coach also says he's skipping practice.” He spoke so fast that I almost didn't hear what he said.

“And?” I rubbed my temple again, but the headache persisted.

God, I really need some painkillers.

Jonathan's nostrils flared as if that single word annoyed him.

“He's distracted, Penelope, and you have nothing to say to it? You asked me to stay away and I listened. But he's been partying and neglecting his studies.” He half yelled.

I inhaled sharply, calming myself. I couldn't afford to lose my temper now, no matter how much he annoyed me.

“He's not distracted and neither is he partying. I'm sure whoever he volunteered to tutor probably needed it. It doesn't mean he's neglecting his own studies. And he only skipped school once to–” I paused, realizing my mistake too late.

“You knew about it?” He asked, his voice calm, but I saw the anger in his eyes.

I didn't want to tell him about Joyce and Arielle staying at my house. First, it wasn't his business who I invite to stay with me. Second, I just wanted him to leave fast so I could go home.

“Yes. And like I said, it was only for a day. Drayton is not some average student. He's top of his class. Don't you think you're being too hard on him?”

“Too hard?” He scoffed. “He's my only heir. I just want my companies to end up in good hands. I'm not very sure about that now that he's skipping classes.”

I didn't know if it was the headache or just seeing him in my space, but I couldn't keep it in any more.

“After everything that has happened, that's what you care about? School and practice? Really?” I snapped.

His eyes further darkened as he glared at me.

“I’m doing what's best for him. He's my son.”

“And yet you treat him like another one of your possessions. You know, maybe if you cared about something else other than your precious companies, he wouldn't hate you so much.”

I knew from the look in his eyes that he wanted to kill me for that statement. And he could. He was Jonathan King after all. The man basically owned half of the country.

But I was so tired. Tired of having to be reasonable one between father and son. I missed my sister too and I was tired of pretending I was fine just to take care of her family.

I had never wished for Cassandra to be here more than these past years. She would have sorted this out within minutes.

I always teased her that her superpower was fixing people's differences, something I completely suck at. It was ironic, considering my choice of career.

Jonathan snarled at me, the movement more animal than human.

“Just because I allowed you to keep him doesn't give you the right to speak to me in that way. Talk to me like that one more time and I swear I will–”

“You will do what? Hurt me?” I barked at him.

“You know I can do so much more than that. Don't test my patience.” He said calmly but it didn't make the threat any less deadly.

Despite my anger, I felt chills run down my spine.

He rose from the chair and dipped both hands in his pocket.

“Get Drayton in line. He can't afford distraction.”

“Don't pretend like you know what is best for him.” I seethed, snapping back into my earlier rage.

“And you do?” He arched an eyebrow.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

“He's my son too, you know.” I said in a whisper.

The words seem to sever whatever leash Jonathan had on his anger. He leaned towards me, placing both his hands on the table. His eyes flashed red.

“Don't you ever repeat those words!” He roared. “He's my son. My and Cassandra's son. Do you fucking understand?!”

My bravado slipped at the expression on his face. I nodded, not able to use my words.

“Good.” He retreated and turned towards the door without another word.

He paused, his hand on the door knob, and threw me a glance.

“Say a word about this to him and I will gladly make sure he finds out the role his precious aunt played in his mother's death. Think he'll be so fond of you then?”

My eyes widened and I went stiff at his words. By the time I recovered from my shock, Jonathan was long gone.

I sunk back into my chair, my heart beating erratically in my chest. I shut my eyes tight and tried to chase away the images of what I had done. Drayton would never forgive me if he finds out.

“I'm sorry, Cassie.” I whispered into the air. “I'm so sorry.”