Page 7 of Worlds Collide

“You’ve done good, though.” She goes on, completely unfazed about the fact that we’re talking about my family’s not so personal business. “Top of your class at Hopkins, earned yourself a spot in the best surgery residency in the country, no scandals at all. You’re the best behaved socialite in the world, and come July seventh it will all be yours,” she murmurs knowingly.Nice, she knows my birthdate too.Then she turns to look at me with a bright, somewhat fake smile. “I’m assuming you asked for an introduction for a reason.”

“You’re a well of information, Mrs. Wall. Maybe I just wanted to know what you know.” Her only reaction is a raised eyebrow, and I chuckle softly. I did my research, and this conversation tells me I chose well and I did the right thing by accepting Harrison’s invitation to his wedding. I’m still not surewhyhe invited me. It might be as simple as he knows I’m about to get a golden ticket into the billionaire’s club, or because I’m one of Theo’s few friends who’s not overly excited by these types of secretive events. But it could also be because of something he has up his sleeve and he wants to keep me close.

In any case, I got what I’ve been wanting for the past month—an introduction to the woman who controls the world’s finances or at the very least, the country’s.

She wouldn’t have told me anything if she didn’t think I was looking to become a client, which yeah, is kind of a dead giveaway if you pay any kind of attention to my history as the Clemson heir.

“The Alton’s are already on my retainer.” I confirm her suspicions about my lawyers. “And yes, I’m planning on transferringmost of it to your firm as soon as Duke and I get it all figured out. I hope you’re ready, because I have plans.”

She snorts, surprisingly inelegantly. “Those Alton’s and their weird-ass names. Well, I’ll be sure to stay in contact, CJ, and please, call me Shirley. Enjoy the party.” She nods and walks away without a backward glance.

She’s good,I think to myself, knowing exactly when she has the deal in the bag and it’s time to retreat.

Telling her I have plans—that implication—was risky, but if there’s one thing I know without a doubt it’s that there are a lot of people in the world who hate Jerry Clemson as much as I do, even after his death, and some of those are very powerful.

The man made enemies as easily as he made money, and one of those enemies was Mrs. Wall’s grandfather. Wealthy families don’t forget, ever, so I’m hoping she understood what my intentions are and that she keeps them to herself for now. After all, the big day is less than four days away and I can’t let anything stand in my way—I’ve got a lot of scores to settle.

A chuckle bursts out of me at the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Only a few days now and I’ll complete step one of the plan I started putting together when I was seven years old.

Way too young to be thinking about this type of stuff, but my parents never cared about me having a positive view of the world or about protecting my innocence.

From the moment I found out what my name meant—thanks to a nanny who was fired hours after she told me what Jerry Clemson did and what that last name represents in the history of this country—I knew.

I knew I was never anything more than a means to an end to my parents.

They truly believed I would just let them do whatever theywanted with the money once I got the Clemson trust. I burst that delusional bubble for them six months ago—at a charity gala they coerced me into going to—which is apparently when they ran to Dallas where the lawyer in charge of the trust has his law firm.

So they’ve been trying to figure out a way to take the trust from me. I had my suspicions, but knowing how stupid—or desperate—they must be is so fucking baffling to me.

It’s not like my father doesn’t have more than enough money to keep their lifestyle exactly like it has been for the past twenty-eight years. Is it really only for social standing?

Do they really care that much about what their snobby fake friends think?

They have to, I guess.

I don’t know why I’m even surprised.

They only got pregnant so they could name me after my grandfather and assure him that a “respectable” male heir would have control over the family fortune eventually.

What they would’ve done if I’d been born a girl, I’ll never know, but the options are too bleak for me to think about them too deeply.

Just like thinking any more about what will happen on Wednesday is pointless. My parents won’t find any loopholes—because there aren’t any—and everything will go according to plan, so now I should get back to my friends and enjoy the party, just like Shirley said.

Everything inside me lights up in a different way when I notice Wolf Storm standing next to Adam. Just seeing him would be enough to make me feel like I could jump out of my skin at any second, but the fact that my best friend is standing right by him and actively frowning—something he hasn’t done since he met his husband almost six years ago—has me standing on alert.

Adam has a stick up his ass when it comes to Wolf, and that shit has to stop before I get to step three of my plan—a step that I added when I figured out I’m bi at fifteen years old, right before I figured out I would have to keep that part of myself locked tighter than Fort fucking Knox.

Step three is getting it on with the rockstar of my dreams.

Of course, I didn’t specify who I was going to choose as my first male sexual partner until a few months ago when I was formally introduced to Wolf at the Super Bowl, but now it’s set in stone because I know no one else will do.

“Hey doc,” Mike calls out to me and takes me out of my Wolf-induced daydreams.

“How are you, Mike?” I ask as I reach way up and around to give my giant friend a hug.

“It’s all good,” he says with his permanently happy voice. I step back and go straight to his fiancé, Theo. “You know,” Mike says once I’m done with the greetings. I somehow end up standing between Adam and Wolf, and the fucking tension is palpable.

“What?” I ask Mike, trying to sound relaxed and not like I’m about to explode into nervous laughter.

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