Clashing Hearts

Chapter Five

I sat on the stool at the bar, waiting for the bartender to pour whiskey into my glass while my brain replayed everything that had just happened.

Her.

The Denise Hawthorne. I heard a lot about her. A fierce one she is, not easily giving up, but fighting for what she wants and what she believes in. So many men called her stuck up, stubborn, and whatever they deemed fit in their small minds.

I never cared to engage in such conversations because it involved a Hawthorne, but after seeing her today, something in me just shifted.

Denise is an absolutely beautiful woman. I have never had to fight so hard to not steal glances at anyone before.

Even through the chaos, I couldn’t stop looking at her. The champagne dripping down her pink dress, the sharp flare of frustration on her face, she was impossible to ignore. Her hair, dark and glossy, tumbled past her shoulders in soft waves that caught the light with every movement. It framed her face perfectly, accentuating the intensity of those dark eyes that seemed to measure, judge, and dare me all at once.

Her lips, full and usually so composed, were parted in that frustrated hiss, revealing just enough fire to make me curious and uncomfortably aware of how much I wanted to know what she was thinking. Her cheekbones, sharp and defined, gave her an edge I couldn’t quite place, making her look both untouchable and vividly alive at the same time.

Even soaked and flustered, her posture carried an effortless elegance, each movement precise, deliberate. She tilted her head slightly as she tried to steady herself, the subtle flex of her fingers betraying the tension she otherwise masked so well. The little exhale she let out when annoyed, quiet, sharp, made her human, yet all the more magnetic.

I could feel it, every glance, every movement drawing me in, igniting a curiosity that I couldn’t name. Frustration, admiration, something sharper, stranger, it all tangled in my chest. I hated how much I noticed. I hated how much I cared.

And yet, I couldn’t look away.

I downed the glass of whiskey, hoping it would cause amnesia, but the painful reality remained, I woke up with Denise slowly filling my mind. And I know how much trouble this is going to cause.

DENISE’S POV

I wore my pink night wear, pink ankle length loose pants and button up shirt, had my hair tied up in a loose bun and headed down to Leon’s room.

I gently knocked on the door,

“I’m not having dinner.” he answered. He probably assumed that it was the chef or the maid telling him to come down for dinner but there’d be no dinner tonight. Mom and dad are still at the party, I am still full from all the drama that had gone down, I just need to sit with my brother and debrief every single thing, especially the part where he left out that he was more than familiar with heir to the Jenkins Empire.

After a bit of hesitation, I knocked again and I could hear his feet stomping towards the door, I saw it swing open in annoyance, revealing a very angry Leon to me.

“what?”

“is everything okay? you’re all red,” I pointed out. Even though his body stood in front of the door, I moved him aside and let myself in while he shut the door.

“Leon, there’s something you’re not telling me,”

“don’t you have some papers to sign and a company to look after? why are you all up in my business?” he snapped at me before sitting on the edge of his bed.

“I asked you about Larry and you told me you didn’t know him. Your little exchange today lets me know that you both knew each other very well,”

“and?” he shrugged, “what’s your point?”

“what the hell happened between you and Larry Jenkins?”

“nothing.”

“Leon?”

“I said nothing.”

“you created a freaking scene Leon! We’re gonna make the headlines by morning, a dent on our name, a dent because you took things to far almost hitting the guy!”

“he spilled a drink on you!”

“okay? and? you almost gave him a black eye over a spilled drink? that’s very unlike you and you know this! What are you not telling me?” I inquired.

“Denise, I don’t have time for this back and forth. Shut my door on your way out.” He said turning off his lights and turning to face the direction away from me. I stood watching him for a few seconds, and sighed. Despite myself, I felt a strange pang, a mix of frustration mixed with flicker of concern. Leon is different, more distant, more controlled.

“you’re not exactly the same Leon i knew years back,” I muttered.

“I have had plenty of time to grow Denise, you need that too. Grow up and learn to mind your business!”

Leon has never in his life, even while he was away, he never spoke to me in such tone or manner.

The words stung more than I expected, and for a moment I wondered if part of me missed the familiar brother I thought I knew.

In annoyance, I stormed out of his room slamming the door behind me, loud enough for him to hear and know that I was pissed.

“Denise!” I rolled my eyes in further frustration.

“yes mom?” I answered. I rushed downstairs to where she was seated, her and dad having their eyes glued to the news on the television.

“what the hell happened between you two and the son of the Jenkins?” father inquired.

“he spilled a drink on me and Leon lost his cool,”

“how dare he?!” father raged. “what else happened? did he hit you? hurt you?”

“no father, he just spilled a drink on me and i believe it was an accident,”

“nonsense! those riff rafts never do anything by mistake! I need to do something about them, this rubbish has been going on for far too long.”

“there’s no need. A drink was only spilled. We need to worry about the headlines,” I said pointing to the television.

“that’s not an issue, I will just pay extra money to have them take down those things, but Denise, you have got to get your head in the game. We cannot lose to those things,”

“competition? what are we competing for?”

“you will soon find out. I’m heading to my study,”

“I got the contacts of some of the best men at the event tonight?”

“mom? after the embarrassment, you’re expecting me to still talk to your suitable options? can you just not do this tonight? I’m way too exhausted to be having this conversation,”

“keep stalling and you’ll end up in an arranged marriage. Mark my words,” sometimes, this woman makes me question if she even is my mother.