Chapter 11 #2
Ella suddenly rounds on me, voice cracking. “Why her but not me?” She jerks her chin toward Hailey. “What does she have that I don’t?”
“She wasn’t desperate,” I answer evenly.
Her jaw tightens, and she lets out a bitter laugh. “Fuck you, Micah. You know I’m getting dick every night from guys hotter than you, more athletic, taller. And they always come back for more, because I’m that good. Better in bed than little Cliffe—Sophie could ever—.”
Hearing her say Sophie’s name like that ignites something in me, a white-hot anger I’m barely holding back.
“Don't.” I cut her off before she can finish, forcing my voice to stay level.
Ella smirks again. “I can wait for you, you know. I can give you something you’ve never experienced. You’ll get bored of her. You know it.”
Grant steps in, voice loud and smug. “Okay, Ella, that’s enough.
When are you gonna get it through your head?
Micah would rather be celibate than lay a finger on you.
Give it up already.” He gestures to me. “Come on, man. Let’s go before she tries even harder. It’s giving second-hand embarrassment.”
We turn and walk away, and I exhale slowly, forcing the tension out of my shoulders.
“Thanks for that,” I mutter to Grant. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t stepped in.”
“We’d be on the phone with your lawyers right now,” he jokes, trying to calm me down. “So, Sophie’s the real deal, huh?”
“Yeah.” I glance toward where she disappeared earlier, my chest tightening all over again. “I think she might be.”
Marianne reminded me earlier of all the emails I need to follow up on.
She also mentioned the Evergreen Gala next month—my least favorite event of the year.
I had completely forgotten about it. It’s hosted by the Evergreen Initiative, which has close ties to The Vale Group, though the public doesn’t know that. My brother, Luke, made sure of it.
Luke runs the whole thing. He’s a senior at Westcliffe now, but he started Evergreen as a freshman.
In high school. He insisted it had to appear completely independent from our family name.
He even uses an alias, Adam Green, for business correspondence, claiming he wanted people to take it seriously and not assume everything was handed to him—which, of course, it was, but only at first. My dad funded the entire thing when Luke pitched it, thrilled at the idea of his son doing something visionary and socially responsible.
In reality, Luke decided he didn’t want anything to do with The Vale Group.
Humanitarian work, donations, scholarships—that’s his world.
He likes to pretend his values don’t align with ours.
These galas are just one of the many events he hosts every year to secure funding and keep donations flowing.
The Evergreen Initiative is now fully self-funded and no longer relies on any financial support from The Vale Group.
Personally, I dread going to these galas.
They’re just rooms full of fake smiles, empty compliments, and networking disguised as philanthropy.
But as the future head of The Vale Group, my dad has made my attendance non-negotiable.
I get a plus-one, and the food’s usually great.
Maybe I’ll invite Sophie. It would be the perfect excuse to spoil her with some good food.
I’ve officially accepted it—I like her. A lot. She’s in my head constantly. I’m rearranging my priorities for her, pushing back work for my dad, putting her before school and even things I’d never normally compromise on. And that’s saying something.
My dad piles on the pressure, but I’ve always been fine with it because we both know he won’t take this future from me. He’s determined that his son runs The Vale Group, and it won’t be Luke, so I’m his only choice.
Still, I’ve been trying to prove I can be as good as—if not better than—Luke. But lately, I’ve been slipping. All because of a girl I’ve known for less than a semester. A girl my dad would hate, simply because he sees Luke’s and my marriages as potential business deals.
Not that I’m going to marry her. I barely know her, really. I just want to get to know her better. Fuck. Why am I overthinking this? I should just go downstairs and wait for her shift to end. Grant said she needs space, but I can’t just sit here. I need to clear the air.
Screw it—I’m going down.
I’m waiting for the elevator when the doors slide open, and Wyatt steps out holding two coffees. Great.
“Hey, uh, everything okay?” he asks, giving me a suspicious look.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Why?”
“Just asking. You and Sophie—things were good, right?”
My stomach tightens. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”
He hesitates, then says, “I was grabbing coffee for us downstairs. She’s working, by the way, but I saw her talking to someone. Sitting at a table, probably on her break.”
“Fuck. Was it Ella? That’s it. I’ll handle it—lawyers, whatever it takes.” I’m panicked, running my hand through my hair.
Wyatt blinks. “What? Who’s Ella? No. She was talking to Holden.”
My heart drops. A strange tightness grips my chest. Jealousy, maybe? I hate myself for getting more and more familiar with this feeling.
“What were they talking about?” I demand, sharper than I mean to.
“Couldn’t hear, but…” Wyatt fidgets slightly. “She kind of looked happy.”
Is this why she rushed off after class? I replay the way she grabbed her bag, the way she didn't meet my eyes, and something ugly and irrational starts to take shape in my chest. Did Holden get in touch already? Is he waiting for her shift to end right now?
Before I can process what I’m doing, I’m in the elevator on my way down, and by the time I hit the lobby, my jaw is tight enough to crack a tooth.
I step into the cafe, and there she is—right where I hoped she wouldn’t be.
Sitting at a corner table, laughing. Laughing.
Her non-judgy notebook is open in front of her, and Holden Sinclair is leaning in, looking at her like she’s the only person in the damn cafe.
I cross the room before my brain has a chance to talk me out of it, pull out a chair next to Sophie, and sit. My arm goes casually over the back of her chair, possessive as hell, but I don’t move it.
“Hey, Sophie. I was wondering when you’d be off. Hey, Holden.” My voice sounds way too casual, and I immediately wonder what the hell is wrong with me.
Sophie’s head snaps toward me, brown eyes wide. She quickly shuts her little notebook, like I just caught her writing state secrets.
“Micah. Hi. Holden came to see me at work, and we were just catching up,” she says, her voice higher than usual.
Holden, polite and irritatingly unbothered, offers me a grin and a handshake. “Micah, good to see you again, man.”
“Likewise.” It comes off colder than I’d intended.
I shake his hand, tight enough to make it obvious, then look back at Sophie.
And before my brain can stop my mouth, I say, “Baby, did you eat?”
Her entire face freezes. “Uh, what?”
“Did you eat?” I repeat, like this is a totally normal thing for me to ask in public.
“Um, yeah,” she says slowly, glancing between me and Holden like I’ve grown a second head. “I had a sandwich from the fridge over there.” She points toward the display case by the register, her confusion obvious.
“That’s not food, babe. You can’t be surviving off those sandwiches. I told you that.” I say, doubling down because apparently, I’ve lost all sense of self-preservation.
“You told me that?” she echoes, cheeks flushing.
“Yeah,” I say firmly, nodding like an idiot. “I’ll pick you up after your shift. Dinner will be ready at my place, okay?”
“Dinner?” she asks, still staring at me like I’ve just proposed marriage in the middle of the cafe.
“Yes, baby.” I stand, then force a smile to Holden. “Holden. Good seeing you. We should catch up sometime. With Wyatt and Grant. We’re all at The Haven next door.”
Then I walk out before I can make it worse, my heart hammering. My face feels like it’s on fire, and I can’t even bring myself to turn around to see their reactions.
Fuck. Me.
“Hahaha—you said what?” Grant is literally doubled over, wheezing, and then actually drops to the floor, laughing so hard he has to hold his stomach.
“Shut the hell up,” I snap, running a hand through my hair.
“What a cock-block move,” Wyatt chimes in, leaning back on the couch, way too entertained. “What if she actually likes him? Holden’s a great guy.”
“She doesn’t like him,” I snap immediately. “She can’t.”
Wyatt raises a brow. “You still could’ve given her the choice. Since when are you this hotheaded?”
“He’s always been hotheaded—just never because of a girl,” Grant answers for me.
“Poor Holden's probably devastated,” Wyatt adds.
“He barely knows her,” I say flatly. “He’s a big boy. He’ll survive.”
Grant wipes tears from his eyes, smiling like an idiot. “Sophie’s a cute girl, though. Honestly, if you two didn’t show up matching that day in class, I would’ve gone for her.”
I whip my head toward him. “Absolutely not. You stay the fuck away from her, West.”
Grant is a notorious playboy and as much as I love him, I’d never let him anywhere near Sophie like that.
Grant just smirks wider. “Wow. Possessive much? I’m kidding,” he says with both hands up in defense.