Chapter 5
“Harrison Whitmore, you’re under arrest for assault. Let’s go.”
Harrison was peeling an orange for Celeste, didn’t even look up.
“You know who I am? Get your chief down here if you want to talk to me.”
Celeste curled up against him, voice all sugar and innocence. “Baby, ignore them. Daddy’s lawyers will have you out before
dinner.”
They weren’t worried at all.
Why would they be? Harrison had pulled this shit for Celeste before.
Beat up college kids who were in line for limited–edition sneakers she wanted. Demolished half a Times Square billboard because she bitched about the lights in their penthouse. Even crashed into three food trucks downtown while street racing with her–burned the hell out of some vendors, but money made that disappear too.
Cash fixed everything in their world.
But this time, the cops just stared him down. “Sir, you need to cooperate.”
Celeste panicked, grabbing at the officer’s arm. “Wait, officers, this has to be some kind of mistake! He didn’t mean to hurt
anyone-”
Nobody gave a shit.
They cuffed Harrison and dragged him out while he cursed and struggled the whole way to the squad car.
No shock–Harrison went straight to Rikers.
For two weeks, he raised absolute hell in there.
My colleagues told me he spent every day screaming about being the CEO of Whitmore Industries, demanding we let him out, threatening to report us for abuse of power.
When that didn’t work, he started demanding lawyers and wanting to see his parents.
One of the guards joked with me: “Captain Waverly, this dude used to think he owned Manhattan. Now he’s running around like a headless chicken. Karma’s a bitch, right?”
I couldn’t find it funny. I signed the visitor log with a heavy hand.
Walking into the visitation room, I saw Harrison through the reinforced glass.
Two weeks had destroyed him.
His hair was greasy and wild, stubble covering his hollow cheeks, prison jumpsuit wrinkled and stained. The commanding billionaire had vanished completely.
When he saw me, his eyes went wide and he slammed against the glass, gripping the bars like a caged animal.
19:05
Fifteen Years of Love Lost in One Night with His Sugar Baby
Chapter 5
“Vivian! Thank God you’re here! Get me the fuck out of this place!”
“Where are my parents? Why haven’t they come? Do they even know I’m in here? Call them right now?”
I sat down across from him, absently rubbing the scar on my sleeve.
They know.”
Harrison froze for a second, then exploded.
They know? And they haven’t gotten me out? What the hell did you tell them, Vivian? Did you poison them against me?”
I’m your fucking husband! You can’t just abandon me in here! What will people think? Get me out NOW!”
looked him dead in the eye, my voice flat as ice.
‘Get you out?”
I’m the one who had you arrested, Harrison. Why the fuck would I help you escape?”
Harrison went rigid like I’d tasered him.
Then he started pounding on the glass like crazy.
You’re fucking insane! You psycho bitch! I’m your husband! My parents will destroy you for this! They’ll bury your whole
Family!”
I actually laughed at that.
Even now, he couldn’t see that he’d been cut loose.
‘Destroy me?”
‘Baby, they don’t give a shit about you anymore.”
“You’ve been screaming for them every day, calling nonstop. But here I am. Not them.”
‘Doesn’t that paint a pretty clear picture of where you stand?”
His face went chalk–white, lips trembling as the reality hit him.
Seeing him crumble, I kept twisting the knife.
‘After you walked away with Celeste that day, I made two phone calls.”
‘One to the precinct, demanding they arrest you for assault.”
The other one went to your parents.”
Harrison was still in denial.
“So what if I cut your arm? I’m their only son! They’d never abandon me!”
I couldn’t help smiling at his desperation.
19:05
Fifeen Years of Low Lost!
Chapter 3
“I told your mother I was pregnant.”
“So tell me, Harrison–what’s more valuable to them? A son who’s destroying the family business and attacking people with broken glass…”
“…or the grandson I’m carrying, backed by all that Washington D.C. political power?”
I paused, watching his face go ashen.
“Guess which one they picked.”
19.01
