Forbidden: His Father's Desire

Chapter 12: Damage Control

KELVIN’S POV

I haven’t slept properly in three days, every time I close my eyes, I hear the same sentence.

*“We’re getting engaged.”* Austin said it so casualy. I stare through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse while the Beverly Hills skyline slowly brightens with morning light.

The city is waking up, my coffee has gone cold and I haven’t touched it.

A notification flashes across my tablet. 7:00 A.M. +Strategy Meeting* another follows, *Marcus Webb requesting update on acquisition negotiations* then another, *board presentation finalized.*

Normally work fixes everything, I bury myself in numbers until emotions stop being relevant but today it isn’t working because every thought somehow circles back to her.

Sandra, the way she looked at me yesterday, the way her face changed when Austin announced the engagement.

The way neither of us could say a damn thing. My phone vibrates, my assistant. “Good morning, Mr. Clayton.”

“Morning.”

“Your car is downstairs.” I grab my jacket. Time to remind myself who I am. Not a man obsessing over a woman he shouldn’t want.

Kelvin Clayton, CEO, business first. Everything else second, It always has been.

Clayton Global occupies the top thirty floors of a downtown Los Angeles skyscraper.

The elevator opens directly into the executive floor and immediately people straighten, conversations stop and Good mornings follow. “Morning, Mr. Clayton.”

“Morning.”

“Morning, sir.” I nod without slowing down. Employees move out of my path automatically not because they’re told to but because they know better.

Twenty years ago I started this company with a laptop, two clients, and more ambition than common sense. Now Clayton Global operates across three continents.

Thousands of employees, billions in annual revenue, investors trust me, competitors hate me and most people fear disappointing me. That’s the reputation and usually it serves me well.

“Conference room ready?” I ask. My assistant keeps pace beside me. “Everyone’s waiting.”

“Good.” The board meeting starts at exactly eight. Forecasts become projections, projections become acquisition plans, and the meeting moves with its usual precision until somebody asks me a direct question.

“Mr. Clayton?” Silence stretches, every face in the room is looking at me. I realize I haven’t heard the last thirty seconds.

That never happens, I glance at the presentation, answer the question, and move the discussion forward as if nothing happened. Nobody comments on it, but they noticed.

Unfortunately, so does Marcus Webb. The meeting ends and people begin leaving. Marcus remains seated watching.

I already dislike that expression. “What?” I ask. A smile appears. Marcus built his fortune the same way I built mine by noticing weakness before everyone else.

“You seem distracted.”

“I’m not.” He laughs. “See? That’s exactly what distracted people say.” I gather my files. “Was there a business reason for staying behind?”

“Curiosity.”

“Then we’re finished.” Marcus stands still smiling.

“You miss details when you’re distracted, Kelvin.” My gaze locks on his then the smile disappears first. “I don’t miss details.”

“No?” He adjusts his cuffs. “Then maybe I’m wrong.” The silence stretches and neither of us looks away, finally Marcus shrugs. “Have a good day.”

Then leaves, I watch the door close. Something about that conversation bothers me. Marcus never asks questions he already knows the answer to.

By afternoon I have completed four meetings, signed twelve contracts, rejected three acquisition proposals, and approved next quarter’s expansion plan.

But Sandra still occupies space in my head she has no business occupying.

A knock sounds and before I can answer, Austin walks in. “Busy?”

“Obviously.” He ignores the warning, drops into a chair grinning exactly the way he always does. “When did you start scheduling appointments with your own son?”

“When he starts interrupting board meetings.” Austin laughs but I don’t, eventually his smile fades. “Still mad about last week?”

“I’m working.”

“Fine.” He leans back then he says her name Sandra and suddenly I’m listening whether I want to or not.

“She’s still pissed.” I keep reading a report. “Interesting.”

“Come on.” Austin rolls his eyes. “You’ve seen her, she always cools off eventually.”

My jaw tightens because the certainty in his voice irritates me. Austin doesn’t notice while he keeps talking. “Honestly, she’s overthinking everything.”

I set the report down slowly. “Cheating generally upsets people.” He shrugs. “It wasn’t that serious.” I stare at him.

For a second I wonder if he’s genuinely incapable of hearing himself then he smiles again. “Anyway, dad’s excited.”

“About what?”

“The engagement.” Austin leans forward completely unaware he’s making everything worse. “You’ll like having her in the family officially.”

Something dark moves inside me, I hide it immediately. Years of practice make that easy. “Will I?”

“Yeah.” Austin stands still smiling. “Trust me.” If only he knew, he leaves moments later.

The door closes and silence fills the office. I stare at it long after he’s gone.

My phone vibrates with one message from Sandra. My pulse doesn’t change but everything else does.

*We shouldn’t talk for a while*, I read it once then again.

The responsible thing would be to agree and leave it there, but instead I type *Too late for that* and hit send. Regret settles in almost immediately, though not enough to make me unsend it. I put the phone down, reach for it again a few seconds later, and find no response waiting. Probably for the best.

Night falls across the city, it glows beneath the rooftop restaurant where I finish dinner with investors.

By the time the meeting ends, the contracts are signed, the agreements finalized, and another deal secured. Nobody in the room suspects anything is off, which is exactly the way I prefer it. Control is perception, and perception is everything.

My assistant approaches as the final guests leave. “One last thing.”

I hold out my hand and she gives me the tablet. “Gala confirmations.”

Sponsors, investors, politicians, and business leaders scroll past without holding my attention until one name freezes everything. Sandra Nicholson, Confirmed Attendance. Beneath it sits a second line.

Guest: Austin Clayton. The city glows below the rooftop, distant and untouchable, while I read the confirmation again, hoping somehow it will say something different.

Because now it’s real, this weekend I’ll stand in a ballroom full of people while Austin publicly claims the woman I can’t stop thinking about and there’s absolutely nothing I can do to stop it.