Page 17 of Stranded for Christmas with my Boss

Fury burns through my damn veins as I abruptly stand up from the table. Do these little, untrained terrors really think they can tormentmynephew without consequences? Oh, no, no.

Absolutely fucking not.

“I’ll be right there,” I say before hanging up and turning to Ken. “Thanks for the meeting. We’re going to extend the offer to someone else.”

Ken’s jaw drops in shock.

Alyssa looks just as shocked, but she gets moving and follows me out of the coffee shop. “Where are we going?”

“Get in the car,” I tell her as I nod to the black company car that we took over here.

Alyssa doesn’t argue and makes a beeline to the passenger seat. She remains stiff throughout the ride as I tear through the streets of New York City to get to my nephew’s school. She glances at me every so often, waiting for an explanation, but I must look pissed enough for her to not test me and ask questions.

My knuckles turn as white as the snow tumbling from the sky, my anger burning hotter than any burning fire warming someone’s home. I only have so many family members left that I truly care about, and Oliver is as close to a son as I have right now. No one will be messing with him on my watch.

I park in the first parking spot that I can find when pull into the school’s front parking lot, my car jolting as I hit the brakes. I storm out and right through the front double doors that lead to the office, not even checking if Alyssa is following me or not.

“Hello, how can—”

“I’m here for Oliver,” I tell the secretary, skipping past the introductions. I need to make sure that he’s okay.

The secretary’s eyes widen a little when she realizes who she’s dealing with. “This way.”

I glance behind me to see Alyssa standing a few feet away with a confused look on her face. She doesn’t even know that I have a nephew. I don’t have time to explain right now, but she’s smart. She’ll pick up some context clues by the time I get through here.

Holly told me not to make a scene, but all I’m going to do is lay down the law.Mylaw.

The secretary leads me down a hallway with a few other offices. There are a few chairs lined up along the wall, and Oliver is sitting in one of them with tear-streaked cheeks.

The moment Oliver sees me, he hops out of the seat and runs into my arms, burying his face against my chest.

I kneel down and hold him close, feeling his body shudder as he quietly cries. “It’s okay, buddy. You called, and I’m here, right?”

Oliver nods as he grips my jacket in his small hands. “They told me to give them my glasses. I said no and Blade pushed me.”

Seriously? Blade? The kid already sounds like a douchebag in the making.

“I’m going to talk to them, okay? They won’t ever hurt you again,” I promise him as I take hold of his arms, seeing how fogged up and tear-stained his glasses are.

Oliver’s bottom lip trembles as he nods.

I stand up and turn to the secretary. “Where are the other boys?”

The secretary doesn’t say anything, but her eyes betray her as she glances toward the closest door.

I glance through the thin window and spot three boys talking to who I can only guess is the principal. I throw open the doorand step inside, making the young boys jump in fear. “You think it’s funny to make fun of someone for wearing glasses?”

The boys shrink back in their chairs as I step closer.

The principal stands up from his desk and holds his hands out, motioning for me to pause. “Mr. Riley, I understand that you’re upset, but we’ll handle this.”

“How have you been handling it? Oliver has been repeatedly put into this situation,” I say before shooting the boys a death glare. “I don’t think you’re punishing them well enough.”

“I’ve already called their parents. We will discuss punishment with them present,” the principal states, sounding as tired as he looks. He can’t even be in his fifties, but his short, black hair is already starting to become gray in some spots and defined bags hang under his eyes.

“Not good enough,” I bite out through gritted teeth. “Oliver should love school. He should feel safe here, but you and the teachers aren’t doing anything to ensure his safety and well-being! What if he hit his head when he fell? What if his glasses broke? Is that when you’re finally going to take this seriously?”

The principal sighs and lowers his hands. “I promise that they will face consequences for their actions, and we will keep a closer eye on Oliver to make sure he’s thriving here. We don’t want him to feel unsafe within these walls.”

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