SOLD TO AUGUST CHILDE

016

AUGUST

I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my chair, letting it swivel just enough to signal how little patience I had left.

“And why exactly do you think I need to report to you?”

Taylor huffed and folded her arms tightly across her chest, like she was bracing herself against something cold. The diamond on her left hand caught the overhead light and scattered tiny rainbows across my desk—bright, mocking flashes that felt wildly inappropriate given the mood in the room.

“Come on, Augie,” she said, forcing a half-laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “We’re getting married. You haven’t been sleeping at home. Are you cheating?”

I said nothing.

“I’ve been to your place five good times now,” she continued, her voice sharpening, “and you’ve never been there. Not once.”

That did it.

I leaned forward and glared at her hard. Not the controlled, corporate stare I used in boardrooms. This was personal.

“I never sent you to my place,” I said flatly. “And if you’re bored, go chill with my mom or something. Since you both want this wedding so bad.”

Her eyes narrowed instantly. Lips pressed into a thin, furious line. For a second, I thought she might actually scream.

Instead, she smiled.

“I really hope you rot in hell,” she said quietly, venomously, “for always trying to make me cry.”

I scoffed, the sound sharp and humorless. “You’re such a pretender,” I shot back. “You’ve ruined my life since the first time I was introduced to you, Taylor. Every single day I wake up and pray something bad happens to you.”

The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.

Daniel shifted slightly in his chair, but he didn’t interrupt. He knew better.

Taylor didn’t look shocked. Didn’t look hurt.

She smirked.

Slow. Deliberate. Cruel.

It was the kind of smile that didn’t belong on someone who claimed to love you. The kind meant to remind you that they knew exactly where to hurt and were more than willing to press down.

“Well,” she said calmly, stepping closer to my desk, heels clicking softly against the polished floor, “you might want to retract that prayer.”

Her voice was smooth. Controlled. Almost bored.

“No one else would want to deal with a man like you,” she continued, eyes locked on mine. “Especially if they knew what you’re passing through.”

Her gaze dipped.

Just for a second.

But it was enough.

Enough to feel like a blade sliding between my ribs, twisting slowly. Enough to remind me that nothing about her presence in my life was accidental. She knew. Or at least she thought she did. And she wielded that knowledge like a weapon.

“You should be thanking me every day,” she added lightly, “for trying to be with you.”

Wow.

The word echoed in my head like a hollow laugh, bouncing off the walls of my skull. It felt absurd. Heavy. Wrong.

I didn’t say it out loud.

Didn’t trust myself to.

Because if I opened my mouth, I wasn’t sure what would come out. Rage. Something ugly. Something that would only prove her point.

She leaned back, clearly satisfied she’d landed her blow. Adjusted her jacket like she’d just wrapped up a productive meeting.

“See you at home, lover,” she said sweetly. Poison wrapped in honey. “I’ll be waiting.”

Then she turned on her heel and walked out.

The door clicked shut behind her.

The sound hit the room like a gunshot.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, pressing down on my chest. I stared at the closed door, half-expecting it to swing open again, half-hoping it never would.

Then Daniel whistled low under his breath.

“That was…” he paused, searching for the right word, “…tough, man.”

I let out a short, bitter chuckle and dragged a hand down my face. My fingers trembled slightly. I curled them into a fist to hide it.

“I hope my mom knows,” I said dryly, staring at the edge of my desk, “that one of us will kill the other if we actually get married.”

Daniel laughed, but there was no humor in it. “It won’t get to that.”

I didn’t respond.

Because deep down, beneath the sarcasm and bravado, I knew it would.

The anger was already there. Always there when Taylor showed up. It simmered under my skin like a living thing, waiting for the smallest crack to break through. A low, dangerous heat that made my jaw lock, my hands shake, and my thoughts spiral if I didn’t clamp down hard on it.

The kind of anger people like me weren’t allowed to show.

The kind I’d learned, painfully, to swallow with pills, distance, and silence.

I shifted in my chair before it could take over completely. Forced myself back into familiar territory. Business. Numbers. Anything solid.

“Rocco said the shipments haven’t gotten to him,” I said, my voice clipped, controlled. “What’s going on?”

Daniel leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, grateful for the change in topic. “It should get to him today. The delay was from the port. Customs held it longer than expected. Took them forever to load his goods.”

I nodded once. Sharp. Efficient. “Good.”

He stood up and stretched, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off the tension in the room. “Don’t forget the board meeting tomorrow, Augie.”

I flipped him off without looking. “f**k you, man.”

He laughed, already heading for the door. Then he paused, hand resting on the knob. Looked back at me, his expression softer now.

“You okay?”

The question hung there.

I didn’t answer.

Didn’t trust myself to.

I waved him off instead.

Daniel hesitated for half a second, then nodded and left. The door closed quietly behind him.

Silence settled into the office.

Not the peaceful kind. The heavy kind. The kind that made every sound inside your own head feel louder.

I sat there for a long moment, staring at nothing.

Then, slowly, I reached into my desk drawer.

My fingers brushed against the familiar plastic. The small orange pill bottle stared back at me, innocent-looking.

I stared at it for a while before grabbing my phone instead.

Dialed Ama.

I needed to know if they’d gone out. Needed to know Camilla was still exactly where I’d left her.

She picked up on the second ring.

“I’m so sorry, sir.”

Every muscle in my body went rigid.

The world seemed to narrow, the edges blurring slightly as my heart slammed hard against my ribs.

“What the hell is going on?” I demanded, already halfway out of my chair.

Ama’s voice cracked on the other end of the line. “Miss Camilla is in the hospital.”