Page 64 of Sweet Chaos

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“You do that. In the meantime, I’ll be fucking Cecily,” I said, referring to his PA who he also happened to be fucking. Another thing I learned from his emails. He really should be more careful not to leave a paper trail of his indiscretions. “I’ll leave her begging for more.”

“You son of a bitch.”

At least he’d gotten that right. I was the son of a bitch. A bastard too.

“I’m going to take you down,” he said with a satisfied smirk like he had this in the bag. He brushed imaginary lint off his tailored suit jacket as he rose to his feet and checked the fifty-thousand-dollar Swiss timepiece on his wrist. “It won’t take long,” he said as if he planned to get this done and dusted over his lunch break. “You’re not even a worthy adversary.”

“It would be a mistake to underestimate me.” I stood up and slapped my palms flat on my desk. “Now I suggest you get the hell out of my office before I call security, and have you removed from the premises.”

He strode out of my office and left the door wide open. Which was not an open invitation for every Tom, Dick, and Melanie to encroach on my space but that’s exactly what happened.

“Close the door on your way out,” I told Melanie after she dropped off a stack of paperwork that needed to be signed.

As much as I would love to celebrate, revel in the thrill of victory, take satisfaction in knowing I’d won this battle, I couldn’t. He knew the right people, had all the right connections. Had the majority of decision-makers in his back pocket. And me? It was still painfully obvious that I was the kid from the hood made good. Wouldn’t get me anywhere in this town.

But I’d never been one to bow out gracefully or accept defeat. I’d go down fighting, just like I always had. Fuck him and his pedigree and his country club membership.

I spun around in my swivel chair and stared at the ocean, trying to find the peace that always eluded me.

To torture myself, I scrolled through my phone, reading all the sweet, funny messages Scarlett used to send. Then I opened her website and stared at her photos for a few minutes. Like a pathetic loser, I stalked her Instagram before I shut it down, cursing myself for wondering how she was, what she was doing, if she was okay.

Reality check. Her father was my sworn enemy. Her sister was my ex-girlfriend who had done enough damage to make me swear off relationships for all eternity. And Scarlett was the girl I’d been fucking when I let my mother’s call go to voicemail.

“I think it’s for the best if we don’t see each other anymore.”

No doubt about it. It was in her best interest to stay away from me. I was the kind of trouble she didn’t need. But Scarlett wasn’t just a random fuck, and she wasn’t so easy to forget.

I just needed a little more time. Then I’d try to win her back and we’d go back to doing whatever we’d been doing before I’d gotten derailed by my mother’s suicide.

My mother’s suicide. Fuck me. The pen in my hand snapped in two.

24

Dylan

Three and a half weeks had come and gone since Kai was born, and I still hadn’t broken the news to Remy. Motherhood was overwhelming, and her emotions were all over the place, so every time I stopped by to visit Kai I found another excuse to keep it to myself. I wanted to spare her. I wanted to protect her and give her this time to be happy, but I didn’t know how much she’d appreciate being left in the dark. If it were the other way around, I’d be pissed that she kept it from me.

Time to rip off the Band-Aid.

Shane answered the front door, masking his surprise that I’d turned up after Kai’s bedtime, and ushered me inside. Remy was curled up on the sofa wearing sweats and an oversized hoodie that I suspected was Shane’s. She looked happy and sleepy, a soft smile on her face just for me, and I fucking hated to do this to her.

“Hey. You just missed Kai. We were about to watch a movie. Do you want to join us?”

“I need to talk to you. You and Shane,” I added, because he was always banging on about how we’re family and I needed to start trusting him.

Shane took a seat on the sofa next to Remy and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as if he already suspected that she’d need his support. I sat on a chair across from them and tried to find the right words. Not my strong suit.

“What’s wrong?” Remy prompted, her brows furrowed.

I raked my hand through my hair. “It’s Mom.”

“Oh my God, why didn’t I realize that?” She smacked the sofa arm. “Shealwaysupsets you. Did you talk to her? What’s she done now?”

I cleared my throat. There was no easy way to break this to her, so I just came out with it, and fed her a half-truth. “She OD’d.”

“Fuck,” Shane muttered.

Remy stared at me in disbelief. I waited for the words to sink in. I waited for her to call me out as a liar, as if she’d somehow know that I was withholding the truth and that our mother’s death had been far more gruesome than downing a bottle of pills and drifting off to sleep.