Chapter 2
The detention order never got signed.
The chief showed up personally, rubbing his hands as he tried to smooth things over.
“Listen Waverly, about Whitmore… Come on, it’s tied to Manhattan’s economy–let’s just drop it, alright?”
I didn’t argue. There was no point.
With the Whitmore family’s pull in New York, one bogus police report wasn’t going to put him behind bars anyway.
I watched Harrison carefully escort Celeste to his car like she was made of fucking glass, then texted his mother Margot.
“Just saw Harrison at the station. Police questioned him about soliciting prostitutes.”
She texted back instantly: “Vivian, darling! You’re back! Sending my driver over right now. Don’t you worry–I’ll handle this.”
Thirty minutes later, I walked into the Whitmore estate just as Harrison was getting his ass handed to him by his father Maxwell.
They knew about his little side piece Celeste–just didn’t give a shit.
But getting arrested? That was bad for business.
The Whitmores owed their Manhattan empire to my family’s political connections back in D.C. Not to mention Margot had kissed serious ass to arrange our marriage, flying to D.C. every other week for months.
Margot’s face lit up the second she spotted me.
“Vivian, sweetheart! I’m so sorry about all this drama. That boy needs some sense knocked into him.”
Harrison’s eyes went cold when he realized I’d ratted him out. Hatred radiating from every pore.
Before he could explode, his father Maxwell’s voice cracked like a whip.
“Apologize to Vivian right fucking now! And swear you’ll cut ties with that Kingsley girl!”
Harrison’s head snapped up, defiance blazing in his eyes.
“No way! I won’t!”
“Celeste is the love of my life! Nobody’s breaking us up–not you, not her!”
Maxwell looked ready to stroke out. “What the fuck?”
“Without Vivian’s family backing us in Washington, we’d be nothing! You disrespect her, you’re no son of mine!”
Harrison clenched his jaw but finally backed down. No apology, though–just stormed past me like I was invisible.
Maxwell turned to me, embarrassed. “Vivian, go with him. You two need to work this out.”
19:04
Fifteen Years of Love, Lost in One Night with His Sugar Baby
Y
10.09
Chapter 2
I followed Harrison outside, and the second we were alone, he grabbed my arm hard enough to bruise and yanked me into his
car.
He slammed his door like he was trying to break it, then floored it before I could even buckle up. The car shot forward like a
rocket.
His eyes were bloodshot with rage as he snarled at me.
“Real fucking classy, Vivian.”
‘What, you came back to New York just to spy on me? Our arranged marriage not controlling enough for you?”
I rubbed my throbbing arm and kept my mouth shut.
My silence just pissed him off more. He shot me a look dripping with contempt.
‘Don’t blame me for falling for someone else. Look at yourself–you dress like a fucking nun and walk around with a stick up
your ass.”
‘And in bed? Jesus Christ, you just lie there like a dead fish. Same boring position every time.”
‘Celeste is young, she’s passionate, she actually knows how to make a man feel alive! Being with her showed me what real love
feels like!”
Every word was an ice–cold knife straight to my heart.
Three years of trying to win his heart, and this was what I got–pure, venomous humiliation.
His phone rang, cutting through his tirade. “Baby Girl ?” flashed across the screen and my heart sank.
He answered immediately, his voice doing a complete 180 from vicious to tender.
‘Babe, what’s wrong?”
Celeste’s voice came through the speaker, weak and teary: “Harrison, I cut myself! It hurts so bad!”
The color drained from his face. All that anger evaporated, replaced by raw panic.
‘Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m coming right now. Just hold on for me, okay?”
He hung up and jerked the wheel hard, pulling over.
‘Get out.”
‘Harrison, we’re in the middle of nowhere. It’s at least ten miles to-”
He leaned over and unbuckled my seatbelt, then shoved the door open.
‘I said get the fuck out.”
He literally pushed me out of the car. I stumbled, barely catching myself before hitting the pavement.
The door slammed shut, and his Maybach disappeared into the night, leaving me stranded.
19-04
Fifteen Yo
Night with Wie Syear Robe
Chapter 2
Cold wind cut through my jacket as I stood on the empty road, my phone showing 5% battery.
I tried calling the station but the screen went black mid–dial.
Fucking perfect.
C
