Chapter 3 Chapter 2:
Arya:
I stand there in shock, my brain refusing to process what I am looking at.
My heart thunders heavily and the first thought that crosses my mind is to run, beside him is an elderly man, he smiles gently when he sees me standing there.
“Miss. Morris, glad you could join us, please have a seat and we can discuss.”
I feel so out of place, just clutching a coffee cup. With shaking legs, I make my way over to them, before sitting down. Devon’s wearing a navy suit that stretches round his body, his thick dark hair is layered back, but some strands fall over his face. His deep mysterious green eyes probe on me that I shift awkwardly on the sofa.
The atmosphere is thick and heavy with tension; I realize that there’s a sharp seriousness in his eyes. The eyes that looked at me three years ago with warmth are cold and emotionless, the way the media describes him.
I gulp down nothing, looking at the two men in front of me, “What’s happening?”
“Miss. Morris, I want you to know that you are safe.” The elderly man speaks up first, his voice rough around the edges, okay, why is everyone telling me I am safe? I don’t feel safe at all, I feel awkward.
“Please, look at these photos.” The man passes me a photo and I stare at it, the air whooshing out my lungs. The photo is of me and Vera, she’s wearing her hair in pigtails, I am holding her hands as we cross the streets. I remember perfectly, this was just last week when we got ice-cream.
I stare up at the man in shock. “What is this?”
He shows me another picture and I realize it is of me and Vera again, “Are you having me followed? What in the hell is this?”
The man shoves the photo on the coffee table. “I assume that this is your daughter right? And you gave birth to her in the month of November two years ago in Wisconsin, am I right?”
“You are snooping into my medical records too? Is this even legal?” Anger shoots up at me in waves, what in the heck is going on here?
“And you and Mr. Brookes met nine months before November, right?” The man asks.
My chest heaves, my mouth failing to generate a response.
“Is this child mine?” Devon finally speaks; the deep rumble in his chest makes the old memory shootout. The way he asks is so demanding and curious, is this man trying to imply I sleep with every stranger I meet on a cruise ship?
“Yes,” I swallow the bile that rises in my throat. “She’s yours.” It feels so strange that this man is sitting right next to me, the man that I tried to find for three years. Who would have guessed that the only name I was missing is Brookes?
His hardened features seem to relax a bit at my confirmation, still that doesn’t stop me from standing up, “Look, you don’t have to pretend you care, but I can take care of her myself, you can go back to your work and we can pretend this never happened.” I say in a rush, attempting to leave when his sudden cold voice makes me halt.
“Miss. Morris, I intend to see my daughter.” The tension thickens as I turn towards him.
“Excuse me?” I ask, completely bewildered.
“Mr. Brookes is right, he wants custody rights for his daughter, I am attorney Lee, and I will be representing Mr. Brookes in court.”
“Court?” I don’t think I am hearing things right, in just one day; my perfectly organized life has come crashing down.
“Court is not necessary in this case, you can choose to agree on visitation dates and have it legally drawn up on paper, but in case. I need you to get a lawyer for this.”
A lawyer? What is going on? The man on the cruise ship is here fighting me on custody rights for our daughter. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.
“Why don’t we take it slow, Miss. Morris? Is it okay for Mr. Brookes to visit his daughter tomorrow? We can schedule a time, maybe in the evening when you are back from work?” Goodness, this lawyer dude is stalking all my records, even my workplace!
“I want to be a father to my daughter, Miss. Morris; I hope you can understand that.” Devon’s voice cuts right through the silence, and I almost laugh. I take the subway all around New York, he rides a Porsche, I eat fast food, he probably eats all these gourmet meals, I am not inviting a cold and maybe arrogant billionaire into my daughter’s life, thank you very much.
“What do you know about parenting?” I fire back immediately; the lawyer gives me a strange look, as if what I am saying will affect me in court. In fact, fuck court. These two aren’t worth my time.
“I will let you know of my available schedule.” I say coolly, oh I never will reach out to him, I don’t even have his number, without waiting for them to speak, I stride out of his office and down to the lobby.
“Ma’am. Is everything alright?” Daphne rushes to me, adjusting her glasses. Great, he even has his secretary chasing me about.
“Oh just fuck Devon Brookes!” I say, without glancing back. The moment I am out of the company, I rush towards my place of work. Shit, I am thirty minutes late, the meeting would have already started.
I think about the man’s words, I need a lawyer as soon as possible, but that doesn’t seem hard, my no-nonsense, strict best friend, Nicole is an attorney that specializes in criminal law as well as family law, and her office is just downtown, I have to speak to her later.
Walking along the streets, I take the time to goggle Devon Brookes, the moment I click send, his photos listed with his achievements pops up: he graduated top of his class from Oxford and Cambridge, letters in tennis and football, speaks seven language fluently, founded a charity for funding the arts in a small town at the age of eighteen, and is the co-founder for one of the most fast rising media platform, and is on the track at the top for youngest CEOs in their thirties.
As long as I am here, I am not letting anyone take my daughter away from me.
“Sorry, I am late.” I say the moment I step into the designer house, the heels I wore this morning are starting to hurt around my ankles and someone spilled their coffee on my purse in the subway station.
“No problem at all,” Wendy strides over to me effortlessly in the lobby, “Oh girl, you look like shit.” Wendy and I have been working in ClaraVogue, a fashion brand in New York that deals with designer clothes and accessories marketed only to the wealthy.
However, my boss, Clara, has been keeping me in the shitty position where my job is to find collaboration with wealthy families who will purchase our clothes, but I want to be in the department of the sketchers, I want to actually make clothes and not advertise them.
Clara already informed us about the meeting last week. She is going to propose a group of people to market one of our exquisite collections, and if this goes well, like the wealthy family has to agree to purchase our clothes- wealthy people are so rude and arrogant. I can finally get promoted to the department that makes the clothes.
I have spent the entire week editing my proposal, outline the reasons why Clara should pick me, but judging from our relationship, I doubt she will. We went to high school together, alongside Kevin and Anna, the two people who betrayed me, and she’s best friends with Anna...so, surprise. I think I am going to end up as someone who walks around New York, looking for wealthy families for the rest of my life.
Wendy and I chat on our way to the meeting room, the meeting has already started and I can see everyone's chill stares on us as we step in, the thick breeze from the AC does nothing but fuel the anticipation I am feeling.
We take the two empty seats.
“Glad you could join us, I was just about to announce the family and the people I picked.” Clara says, she’s being sarcastic, I know, but you don’t go around insulting your high-school mate.
She walks towards the white plain sheet in the front and taps her finely manicured nails on it. “This could be our next big thing; this family is not just like any regular family. They can make us, yet at the same time they can destroy us.”
I gulp as I stare ahead.
“I am going to be picking members who will propose to the Brookes family, the multi-billionaire family who owns countless companies not only in New York, but around the country.” Clara says, and that moment, everything begins to blur.
“I heard they are expanding their branch in Korea.” Wendy whispers to me, but I feel lightheaded and my palms are sweating.
The family is the Brookes family? As in Devon Brookes? The man I just casually insulted in his office? Why am I worried? Clara can’t pick me, she hates me so much.
She flings her blonde hair over her shoulder, “And the people I am picking to propose our collection to the Brookes family are Axel, Wendy and...” She trails off, giving us cold stares, I can feel the sweat breaking behind the nape of my neck. “Arya.”
Time stills for a brief moment, my heart thunders rapidly, I can see Wendy pumping her fists into the air and her lips is moving, but I can’t make out what she’s saying, I can only think of one thing: I am so, so, fucked.