That night, Charles was the only one left in the house after Thomas finally thought it fit to leave. But that was not before stuffing himself with a hell lot of food.The time read 9 p.m. Charles leaned back, lost in thought. His mind drifted to Colombia—the chaos, the people, the mess he’d left behind. He wondered how Ramiro was doing now and that damn August. But if anyone had told Charles on his flight back to New York that he wouldn’t get a single quiet hour to himself when he landed here, he’d have laughed it off. Yet here he was, surrounded by the circus of celebrities and schemes, barely able to breathe.Just as he was about to figure out his next move, his phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up, ready to hang up on whoever it was—until he saw the name.The godfather.“Damn,” Charles muttered under his breath, standing as if the call required him to be on his feet. He swiped to answer.“I just saw your call now,” Charles said quickly. “And it hit me—I haven’t called you b

He held his breath. It worked.“Charles??!!” she screamed louder, shaking him like her life depended on it.Charles cracked his eyes open faintly. She was crying—actually crying. And as crazy as he was, that hadn’t been the point. All his stupid stunts tonight had been aimless, but seeing her cry kind of made him feel like a bully. “Nothing is wrong with me,” he quickly said.She froze. Tears cut off instantly, like someone had flipped a switch.“I just pretended,” he added quickly. “I swear, nothing’s wrong.”Her eyes hardened. Sadness snapped into rage in one breath. “Do you think I’m a joke?”She spun back for her belt.By the time Charles realized, he was already sprinting for the door. He pulled up short.A familiar woman stood there.Sadie’s mother.Charles bowed immediately, breathless, greeting her. But she didn’t even get a chance to reply—Sadie was already charging over, bel

The clock read 11 p.m.Charles knew it was time for Sadie to go to sleep. She’d had a hell of a tough day, and on top of that, he’d piled his own nonsense on her just because he’d felt like it. The guilt sat heavy on his chest. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to let her drift off just like this—not when he’d promised to put her on a call with his godfather.“Which do you think is perfect?” Sadie asked, drawing his attention to a pair of shoes on her iPad. “This…” she ran the her thumb over one, “or this?”To Charles, they looked identical. But he’d already given her enough grief tonight; he wasn’t about to add fuel to it. “I think this one’s better,” he said, pointing.“Really?” Her eyes lingered on the screen, filled with an obsession he couldn’t even begin to understand. “One of my friends said the same thing, but I’d have gone for this one.”Charles inhaled deeply, steadying himself. Then three… two… one… “Sadie, could you help me out

“One…” Charles started counting.“But, Charles, don’t you think you’re taking it too far? Sadie didn’t even agree to date you. You forced her. If I’m wrong, tell me now.”“Three…” Charles continued counting.What a rude man! one comment read.He’s trash!He’s a fool!Golddigger!“Guys, this is what happens today,” Cox said into the camera, suddenly playing the advocate for human rights. “Men without money or status get trampled by people we don’t even know. Mafia? Drug dealers? Who knows.”“Ten…” Charles counted, steady and cold.“And you wonder why a man like him is in the house of our celebrity woman. The woman many look up to.”“You know, Cox,” Charles said, “I let you go the other day because you probably had no choice in that wedding scene… but you’re really pissing me off now.”“This is just the beginning!” Cox barked. “Sadie was mine from the start! And you’re turning her into a bad woman! Wha

“Roger hasn’t been able to do anything since you two got together, and I agreed that he should help us out,” Mr. Harrington told Emmy. The rest of the family was gathered too.The contract Emmy lost yesterday had shaken the already fragile family business. Two partner companies had pulled back, and Mr. Harrington had spent the entire night with major shareholders, feeding them nonsense about how a pig could fly if they only had patience.“He’s trying his best too,” Emmy protested.“Are we going to blame him if he stopped doing anything?” Emmy’s mother asked, irritation sharp in her tone, as if ready to snap at her husband for all of this.“All the steps that man is taking, that stupid boy is going around messing it up,” one of Emmy’s brothers added heatedly.“I think this is all my fault,” Emmy muttered. “I shouldn’t have made it obvious that his leaving us meant something.”“I knew this would backfire on us, and when you suggest