Page 31 of Frayed Bonds

Before I know it, I’m working myself into a state. My hands are clenched into fists at my sides as I remember the day I heard the full story of what happened to him. No matter how much I try to grieve, to try and let go of it, anger is always the only emotion I can decipher.

I’m angry that he died. I’m angry we couldn’t see it coming, and most importantly, I'm angry Augustus did absolutely nothing to try and save him.

I still question if he was in on it all. Did he play a part in my father not being here today? Maybe he thought the CEO position was his for the taking since I wasn't around as much as I should've been.

I chuckle to myself and turn around, trying to calm my breathing as I begin shuffling through the folders of prospective clients on my desk.

These aren't thoughts I can entertain right now. I don’t have the time. I have to pull this company together, especially since everyone is so hell-bent on me being the reason it's all going to shit. I haven’t spent the last sixteen years learning the ropes of this place to see it fall now.

The next hour or so fly by, and I’m content with the amount of clients I’ve followed up with or secured. Those we have been dealing with for years understand how the media operates, they’re high-profile clients after all. They were easy enough to convince that things will stabilise again, but the newer ones were slightly more nervous to entrust us with their investment portfolios with everything going on. Yet even with all their concerns, I was able to reassure them and get them to trust us. I make a note on my calendar, and Antonio’s, to schedule a check-in with them.

He’s the most persuasive of us three, or at the very least, he’s able to lie the best. So he’ll be able to eliminate any lingering doubts any clients may have. They have to believe that we will turn things around until we actually can.

A knock sounds on my door, and I sigh knowing my solitude is being disrupted. “Come in,” I announce, keeping my eyes focused on the paperwork in front of me.

Heels clicking against the floor are all I hear, and I have to fight a smile forming on my lips as she approaches.

“Here you go. Sorry it took a while, Antonio wouldn't stop talking to the lady there.”

My head shoots up to her. “Kaia is here?” My brows furrow.

She always tells me when she’s back. I’d hope so, especially this time, since I’m expecting her to vent about what's going on with her father.

Valerie’s face twists in confusion, “No, she mentioned that Kaia wasn't there, it was an elderly-looking woman.”

“Oh,” I sigh. “That’s her aunt, she takes care of the store when Kaia isn't around.”

She offers an awkward nod.

“Wait, you said Antonio?” I ask.

“Yes, he drove me over, and then we went to lunch.” She smiles.

It’s my turn to awkwardly nod now. Of course, he still found a way to ensure he’d get lunch with her somehow. “Thank you,” I say nodding in the direction of the suit. “There’s a few emails I forwarded to you to follow up on, and meetings I need you to schedule.” She nods along to my every word.

“I’ll discuss the details with you later, Antonio and Augustus are both going on trips as well, so they'll need you to make travel arrangements. But I’ll get all the information and then let you know.”

“I can ask them myself, you know,” she says, almost as if she’s insulted.

“I don't consider you incapable of doing it. I know my brothers, and they are horrible at making a decision, and it’s not your job to get that kind of information out of two grown men.”

“I don't mind.” She shrugs

“Suit yourself. That’s all.”

She nods again and then exits my office.

Cazzo. That was the exact opposite way I was expecting it to go. I was hoping to be a bit nicer, considering our earlier interactions, but she’s so quick to shoot my assistance down. If she wants to do everything herself, then so be it.

I try to dive back into what I was busy with, but the entire room smells like her. It’s sweet and intoxicating, but most importantly it's distracting—and I’ve had enough of Valerie’s distractions for one day.

I pack up what I think I need to head home and work there. My office at home is one of the few places that is Valerie-free at the moment.

As I head out I lock my door and turn to see Valerie focusing on the laptop in front of her.

“Hey,” I say and her head snaps up. “I’m heading home for the day, I need a change of scenery,” I find myself explaining myself to her.

“You can head off as well,” I say.

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