Cold Breakfast
849 Words
The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft golden glow across the spacious bedroom. Diane stirred, her lashes fluttering as the ache in her limbs reminded her of the night before. Her entire body hummed with soreness—a vivid, lingering echo of Charles’s wildness, although she like it that way.
She winced slightly as she tried to sit up. What a night... The man didn’t just have s*x—he conquered.
Across the room, Charles stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie. He noticed her movement and turned, pausing when he caught her dazed stare.
“Am I that handsome?” he teased with a lopsided smirk.
Diane rolled her eyes, heat crawling up her neck. “You wish,” she muttered before slipping out of bed, holding the sheets to her chest as she made her way to the bathroom.
“We’re leaving in thirty minutes. Meet me in the study when you’re ready,” he called after her.
She didn’t respond, but as soon as she closed the bathroom door, she exhaled and leaned against it. That man… How could someone look that good and be that arrogant? She swallowed hard, her thoughts flashing back to the way he’d taken control last night, her breath, her very being. Her cheeks flamed and she shook her head quickly to banish the image.
Focus, Diane. There’s a long day ahead.
---
Thirty minutes later, dressed in a soft beige blouse tucked into tailored black slacks, she made her way downstairs. Charles was already waiting in the study, looking effortlessly powerful in a crisp navy suit.
They didn’t exchange many words as they got into the car. She didn’t mind. Her thoughts were already occupied with the breakfast they were heading to—at the Wallington estate, requested personally by the old man.
Charles drove in silence, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel. Diane sat back, arms crossed, eyes watching the road. She wasn’t looking forward to breakfast. She wasn’t in the mood to play nice, and it was clear the old man wasn’t fond of her. He didn’t need to spell it out—the cold stares and subtle dismissals from the previous day had done the job well enough.
Diane had no intention of trying to please anyone. This wasn’t her game. All she wanted was for the meal to end quickly so she could head to the Thompson Corporation. Her own responsibilities waited, and she didn’t plan to neglect them.
---
The estate was quiet when they arrived. Inside the dining room, the breakfast setting was immaculate, and the atmosphere was a bit stiff.
The old man sat at the head of the table, offering nothing more than a nod when they entered. Diane returned the gesture with a cool politeness. She took her seat beside Charles, folding her napkin neatly on her lap and ignoring the curious glances from the few other family members present.
Nathaniel arrived halfway through the meal, dragging tension into the room with him. His mother—quiet, elegant, and with kind eyes—offered a soft smile to Diane. It was the only warmth she’d received all morning.
Nathaniel, on the other hand, wasted no time.
“Well, look who’s already claiming her seat at the table. Did you practice signing your new name yet?” he asked smugly, sipping his coffee.
Diane didn’t flinch. “And did you practice swallowing your pride, or are you still choking on it?” if he didn't mind messing around in front of his grandpa, then she won't pretend to be polite either.
Charles gave his brother a warning glance, but said nothing. The room went silent, tension pulsing in the air.
Nathaniel’s mother reached for the butter dish, breaking the silence with a polite comment about the weather.
Diane focused on her food, counting the minutes until it was all over.
---
After breakfast, Charles walked out without a word, clearly in a rush. Diane followed him down the hallway.
“I have a meeting in thirty minutes,” he said, already slipping his watch onto his wrist. “The driver will take you home. He should be out front in five.”
Then he was gone, the sound of his engine roaring as his car disappeared from the estate.
Diane stood on the steps, her expression unreadable. She stared after him for a long beat, then huffed.
“Wait for the driver, my *ss.”
She pulled out her phone, ordered a ride, and marched down the long drive like she owned the damn estate. She wasn’t about to sit around like a discarded accessory.
---
Fifteen minutes later, Diane arrived at the Thompson Corporation building. The moment she stepped inside, her posture shifted. The cold marble beneath her heels echoed with confidence.
She belonged here. Not at the breakfast table full of silent judgments and all, she breath in fresh air of relief.
Straightening her blazer, she nodded at the receptionist and entered the executive wing .
On her turf, she was in control.
- Writer
