Chapter 55 A Fractured Afternoon
POV Scarlett:
“Calm? I had to stop an important meeting to—”
“Enough!” I exploded. “I’m sorry, this won’t happen again, I… I…” I took a deep breath. “I just wanted to do something nice.”
“Something nice?” Damian asked mockingly. “Scarlett, I don’t know how things worked in your relationships with your ex-boyfriends, but you need to understand that we are not them. We have responsibilities, this company is our responsibility, and we can’t just stop a meeting because you want to suck my dick under the table.” Okay, that hurt more—much more.
“Damian…”
“We’ll talk later, you’re dismissed for the rest of the day.” I nodded and left the room.
...
Inside the R8, I cried nonstop. I never imagined Damian would get so angry with me. It’s horrible when we feel out of place somewhere we’re not wanted, and that’s exactly how I felt in that room, facing Damian’s fury. My phone rang again—another call from Ethan—and once again I avoided it, not wanting to answer. I didn’t know how many hours I’d been sitting in that car; I only knew I didn’t feel ready to go back to the Blackwell house. I just wanted to drive around in the vain hope of finding a road that led to my home. Where would my real home be?
I changed lanes, wanting to drive a little longer before going back to face those brothers who had spent the entire afternoon calling me while I ignored every single attempt. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice a car switch lanes, coming full speed in the wrong direction straight toward me. I only had time to place my hand over my belly before the impact hit.
(...)
POV Damian:
I’m pissed! I’m so pissed I could kill anyone who crosses my path today. I’m still digesting the audacity of those two bitch saleswomen who sold information that had nothing to do with them. If I didn’t personally know the journalist they sold the story about Scarlett to, I don’t know what would’ve happened. Of course Edie only contacted me because of what he would gain from it; otherwise, he knows I’d sue the shit out of the magazine he works for, and that would cost him far more.
I spent almost the whole morning arguing with the boss of those two gold-diggers, and nothing a threat of ruining his business couldn’t solve—just enough to make the two of them sign a confidentiality agreement. I’m exhausted. I never imagined Scarlett’s little act of territory marking would give me such a massive headache. If and when we decide to expose our unconventional relationship, it will be on our terms—not because two women thought they could profit off what Scarlett has with us.
I check my schedule and I’m not happy to see that I’ll have to chair a videoconference with Madison. Exactly what I don’t need today—her provocations and double-meaning comments. I want this meeting to be as short as possible. I’ll be objective: we’ll discuss profits, what needs to be changed, how our new administrative plan is reflecting on business growth, and that’s it.
I want to be home, which lately has become the best place for me to feel at peace. Yesterday, I was in the kitchen while Noah prepared our dinner, with Liam and Ethan beside me teasing Scarlett about the exotic names she insists on giving the baby. It was my best day in a long time. That’s what I need every day… us.
Heading to the meeting room, I shake my head remembering the names Scarlett wanted to give the baby.
“Why can’t my daughter be called that?”
What child is named Butterfly? I hope Ethan doesn’t agree with it.
“Scarlett, do you really want to name her ‘Butterfly’?” Noah asked, walking over with a wooden spoon for her to taste the sauce he was making.
“Mm, delicious.” She licked her lips, and my dick throbbed, remembering how skilled her tongue is. “What’s the problem? It’s a unique name.”
“Vetoed,” Ethan said, and we all agreed, making her roll her eyes.
“Fine, I’ll think of another one.” She pouted. “But if it’s a boy, what do you think of Storm? I like it.” Where does she get these names?
“Our son will not be named ‘Storm’,” Ethan shot back. “Unless he’s an X-Man.”
“Idiot.” Scarlett threw the spoon at him. “But why can’t my son be called that?” Here we go again.
I pull myself out of the funny memory as I see my brothers entering the meeting room for the videoconference. Just remembering what we have waiting at home when we’re together eased some of my irritation. I’ll only be completely fine once I’m home.
I can tell by their expressions that they’re still as pissed as I was when I found out what the saleswomen had been planning. When I told them, Liam was the first to say we should sue everyone. Ethan worried about how Scarlett would handle the media if they succeeded. Noah, although the most reckless, was the one who said we needed to be discreet outside the house—that this should remind us to pay attention to who’s around us. And he was right. So we agreed to keep up appearances when we’re out.
Today we plan to talk to Scarlett, explain what’s going on, and what we decided. Madison’s call flashes on the screen and I accept it, starting our meeting.
...
I’m finishing my analysis of last month’s profit charts when I notice the reason behind my sleepless nights walking into the meeting room. I almost choke on my own saliva when I notice her hard little nipples, begging for a mouth to suck them, bite them… Focus, Damian. She’s not braless… right?
I shift in my seat, trying to maintain my professional mask, and trying even harder to keep my cock still in my underwear. Madison is paying attention to everything, and I don’t need another person trying to benefit at our expense. So I keep a serious, focused expression. I glance quickly at my brothers and they seem to be fighting the same internal battle I am.
I hope Scarlett just puts the charts on the table and gets the hell out of my sight until we’re home—where I can make her pay for this provocation.
“Mr. Blackwell, here is the chart you requested.” Her voice is so indecent that I’m getting hard imagining bending her over the table and fucking her there. I clear my throat, forcing my gaze away from the breasts I plan to suck later.
“Thank you, Miss Monroe.” I need her out of this room as soon as possible, but seeing the fire in her eyes, I know her mind is somewhere else—thinking of how to drive us even crazier.
“You may leave, Miss Monroe. If we need you, we’ll call.” I sounded firm; Madison’s curious stare didn’t go unnoticed.
Madison cannot even imagine what happens between Miss Monroe, my brothers, and me. I don’t even want to think about what she’d do if she found out. Madison is excellent at her job—sharp as hell—but just as arrogant. She doesn’t take no for an answer. And she sure as hell isn’t happy with the four rejections she got from me and my brothers.
“Of course, excuse me.” She said it, and I breathed a little easier—until her hand knocked over a glass on the table, spilling it all over my lap. Fuck.