Chapter 18
As the anniversary of Colson’s death passed, a somber tension settled over us all. We paid tribute to him in our own ways, each trying to cope with the loss. I finally found the courage to step into our bedroom, a place I had avoided for too long.
Vaughn had helped by asking the staff to donate Colson’s clothing, and he, Easton, and Simone had chosen pieces of jewelry or watches to keep.
I kept Colson’s wedding ring in a box on my dresser, while I still wore my diamond-encrusted wedding band, knowing that someday I would have to remove it and move on.
Three days after the anniversary, Vaughn was in a foul mood, snapping at everyone, nearly bringing Simone to tears during a meeting in his office. She came to me afterward, her face flushed with frustration.
“You have to say something to him,” Simone pleaded, her voice trembling. “You’re not at the mansion, and he’s been impossible. He’s been drinking a lot, sitting in Daddy’s office all night.”
I sighed, rubbing my temples. “He’s sad, Simone. I understand.”
“I miss you there,” she admitted, reaching across my desk. Her hand was cold, trembling slightly. I took it, squeezing gently.
“You can stay with me if you want,” I offered. “I don’t see Easton much. He spends most of his time with Priscilla.”
Her eyes brightened slightly. “He’s going to marry her; I just know it.”
“How are your wedding arrangements going?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation to something lighter.
She shrugged, her smile fading. “Logan’s dragging his feet. Vaughn has him so busy that he doesn’t have much time.”
I frowned, feeling a surge of irritation. “I’ll talk to Vaughn. Maybe I can convince him to let Logan take some time off.”
Simone’s eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands. “Someplace warm. Maybe Fiji.”
I chuckled softly. “Anywhere you want.”
She sprang up from the chair, her energy suddenly restored.
“Simone, where are you going?” I called as she reached the door.
“To tell him!” she said excitedly.
“Not yet,” I warned, shaking my head. “I need to talk to Vaughn first. Don’t tell Logan anything.”
She bit her lip, smearing her lip gloss as she hesitated. “Can you do it now?”
I exhaled loudly, feeling the weight of the request. “All right.”
Simone nodded and hurried back to her office.
I stood, steeling myself for the confrontation.
Vaughn had been pushing everyone hard, and Logan had been caught in the crossfire, toiling for months without receiving two quarterly bonuses or his yearly review.
That was Vaughn’s responsibility, but he had neglected it.
I decided it was time to address everything at once, consequences be damned.
I was tired of tiptoeing around everyone else’s emotions while my own grief festered.
Colson was gone, the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with, and now I was alone.
And I was angry—angry at the world, at fate, and at Vaughn for his behavior.
Ignoring Vaughn’s assistant, I barged into his office unannounced. I immediately regretted not knocking when I caught the unmistakable sound of low moans. Vaughn was watching pornography, a smug grin on his face as he took a sip from the glass on his desk.
I slammed the door shut, locking it with a sharp click. My hands went to my hips, my stance wide and confrontational. “Really? You’re in the fucking office.”
Vaughn didn’t even flinch. “My personal office,” he retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “It’s not like I have my dick out with the door open.”
“You shouldn’t have your dick out at all,” I snapped.
He leaned back in his chair, one hand casually rubbing his crotch as he eyed me. “Why are you here?”
I ignored the provocation, focusing on the real reason I’d stormed in. “Your behavior this morning. There was no reason for it.”
Vaughn rose from his chair, his movements predatory as he stalked toward me. “We agreed that I would run the meetings.”
I clenched my jaw, refusing to back down. “We also agreed that you would handle signing off on reviews and bonuses. Yet Logan has missed his yearly review and two quarterly bonuses.”
He crossed his arms, his gaze hardening as he matched my stance. “That’s at my discretion.”
“I’ve reviewed his work,” I shot back, anger flaring. “It’s above average. He deserves the bonuses and the review.”
Vaughn let out a cold, sarcastic laugh. “You’re biased. He’s your brother.”
“Fuck you, Vaughn,” I spat, my frustration boiling over. “Your behavior the past few weeks…”
I didn’t get to finish. Vaughn grabbed me, his hands rough as he yanked me toward him. His mouth crashed against mine in a brutal kiss, his lips hard and demanding. For a moment, I resisted, anger and confusion warring within me.
But then I let go, months of pent-up frustration and denied emotions flooding to the surface. I kissed him back, pouring all my grief, anger, and longing into it, finally allowing myself to feel something other than loss.
The kiss stretched on, a collision of pent-up emotions and raw need.
I clung to Vaughn, my fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, holding on as if letting go would mean facing the whirlwind of guilt and confusion swirling in my mind.
His lips were insistent, demanding, and I couldn’t deny how good it felt to be touched, to be wanted, to feel something other than the hollow ache of loss.
I knew this was wrong, that I shouldn’t be doing this—kissing Vaughn with a desperation that felt like I was trying to erase every bad memory, every lonely night.
But as much as I tried to fight it, tried to suppress it, I had been having dreams, thoughts that I couldn’t control.
Dreams where Vaughn wasn’t just a business partner or Colson’s son, but something more.
Something I was starting to want.
Vaughn’s hands moved to my waist, pulling me closer, and I let him, my body betraying me as it melted against his.
The heat between us was undeniable, a crackling tension that had been simmering for weeks, maybe even months.
It was a tension I had refused to acknowledge, brushing it off as grief or stress or just loneliness.
But now, with his mouth on mine, it was impossible to ignore.
He broke the kiss, leaving us both breathless. His forehead rested against mine, and for a moment, we just stood there, breathing heavily, neither of us willing to step back.
“Joey…” His voice was rough, thick with something I couldn’t quite place—regret? Desire? Both?
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “This is… we shouldn’t…”
His grip on my waist tightened, and he shook his head. “I know. But I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t pretend I don’t want this.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut.
I didn’t want to hear them, didn’t want to face the reality of what was happening between us.
But I couldn’t deny that I felt the same.
I couldn’t deny the way my heart had started to race whenever he was near, the way my thoughts drifted to him in the quiet moments of the night.
“But Colson…” I whispered, my voice barely audible, as if saying his name out loud would shatter whatever fragile connection we had just formed.
“Colson’s gone, Joey,” Vaughn said, his voice gentler now, almost tender. He lifted a hand to my face, brushing a stray tear from my cheek. “He’s gone, and you’re still here. We’re still here.”
I closed my eyes, the weight of his words pressing down on me. I knew he was right, but it didn’t make it any easier. Colson was gone, and I was still here, but what did that mean? What did it mean for us, for this thing that was happening between Vaughn and me?
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, my voice cracking under the strain of my emotions. “I don’t know how to feel about this.”
Vaughn’s hand cupped my cheek, his thumb gently stroking my skin. “You don’t have to know right now. We’ll figure it out.”
I wanted to believe him, wanted to let myself fall into whatever this was between us. But the guilt was still there, a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach that refused to go away.
“What if this is just the grief talking?” I asked, searching his eyes for some kind of reassurance. “What if we’re just… lost?”
He sighed, his breath warm against my skin. “Maybe it is. But maybe it’s not. Maybe we’re finally waking up to something that’s been there all along.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I hated how much they resonated with me. Because deep down, I knew there was some truth in them. I had felt something for Vaughn long before Colson died, something I had buried so deep that I didn’t even recognize it until now.
I took a step back, needing some space to think, to breathe. Vaughn let me go, but his eyes stayed locked on mine, watching me closely.
“This is a lot,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. “I need time.”
“Take all the time you need,” Vaughn said, his voice steady, but I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands flexed at his sides as if he was holding himself back from reaching for me again. “But just… don’t shut me out, Joey. Don’t push me away.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I turned and walked out of his office, my mind racing with everything that had just happened. My lips still tingled from the kiss, and I could still feel the imprint of his hands on my waist, the way they had held me like I was something precious.
As I made my way back to my office, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just crossed a line, one that there was no going back from.
But as much as I tried to tell myself that it was wrong, that I should feel guilty, a part of me—a part I didn’t want to acknowledge—felt alive for the first time in months.