Three Days Apart
419 Words
Three days.
That was how long I managed to stay away from her.
I buried myself in contract signings, meetings, and everything Sophie arranged for me. Three quiet days inside the Imperial Crown Hotel overlooking the glittering lights of Pasadena.
And somehow… none of it could clear Ava from my head.
I shut my laptop with more force than necessary and leaned back against the chair in the hotel suite.
My phone vibrated against the table.
Father.
The atmosphere in the room suddenly became cold.
“Yes,” I said into the phone.
The other end was silent and cool.
“You sound tired,” he replied in a calm and controlled voice.
“I have been working.”
“Laptop work isn’t leadership, Christien. You’ve spent years hiding behind the scenes while Sophie handles field operations,” he said slowly, as if counting his words.
That wasn’t true. But it was useless to say anything anyway.
“You inherit the Virelli Empire in a few months. Do you think men will obey a boy who only understands numbers?”
The scars on my back suddenly burned.
“You start travelling next week.”
“For what?” I replied.
“A Dubai negotiation first and then Norway after that.”
My jaw tightened. Straight to international negotiations. No preparations.
He always believed pressure created diamonds.
But in reality… it created demons.
“I still have final exams in college.”
“You also have my name,” he said.
His voice lowered slightly.
“Or are you becoming distracted?”
My grip tightened around the phone.
Did he know?…
“I’m not distracted.”
“Good.”
“You’ll go to the Dubai conference… alone. No Sophie.”
Father had never trusted me alone before.
“You were not born to be soft, Christien,” he said, as if being soft was a disease.
“You either prove you are worthy of the title or I find someone to replace you.”
He said that, and I heard the turning of pages from his end.
And that was it… the call ended.
In Father’s world, there was nothing like failure. You had to pass his test no matter what.
I couldn’t afford to be distracted at a time like this.
Yet somehow… my mind still drifted toward a stubborn eighteen-year-old girl with pink bandages and reckless eyes.
I exhaled sharply and grabbed the whiskey bottle from the table.
This summer was becoming dangerous in ways I never expected.
- Writer
