CHAPTER THREE
RAY
“What was her place like?” Anika asks.
I keep my gaze fixed on the view outside the window. “Like you’d expect,” I say. “A shithole.”
“Why would you expect that?” she asks, amusement threading through her voice.
I glance back at her. “Come on. It’s obvious she’s been struggling. It’s like poverty threw up on her.”
“Ray,” she snaps, sharper this time, “stop being such a dick. She’s a nice girl. And don’t forget where we came from.”
I arch a brow. “And how hard we worked to get here.” I turn back to the window, folding my arms. “She hasn’t been eating properly,” I add after a beat.
“There was nothing in her cupboards. Nothing you could make a proper meal from.” Anika goes quiet.
“I made sure she ate last night,” I continue, more casually than I feel.
“Gave her a card too, for when she’s off. ”
“You could give her an advance,” Anika suggests.
I shake my head. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. She might not stick around long enough to earn it.”
“Then make sure she does,” Anika says firmly. “I like her, Ray. Keep her.” A slow grin spreads across her face. “Wait . . . did you just say you gave her a card so she eats?”
I open my mouth to reply, but Sebastian bursts into the room.
Saved.
“Someone’s full of energy today,” I say, shifting my attention to him.
I watch as Sebastian climbs onto the bed and drops his head briefly against his mum’s chest.
“Wynter said I’m the best reader she’s ever listened to,” he says proudly. “She doesn’t know anything about history. Can you believe it?”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” I say dryly.
Anika shoots me a warning look. “So, you’re going to educate her, then?” she asks lightly.
Sebastian grins, clearly pleased with the idea.
I’ve never met a kid so obsessed with history. He reads it, watches it, talks about it like he lived through it himself. A walking encyclopaedia.
“Just remember,” I say, “she’s here to help your mum. She’s not your nanny.”
Sebastian frowns slightly. “Can she be? I really like her.”
“Not you as well,” I mutter, rolling my eyes as Anika smirks. “She must be a witch,” I add. “She’s got you all under some kind of spell.”
“Or,” Anika says sweetly, “maybe she’s just that nice.”
“That wasn’t the fucking deal.” The words come out low, controlled, but no less threatening for it.
Dale steps forward beside me, his presence enough to shift the air in the room.
Richard Borne doesn’t flinch. He straightens in his chair instead, like he’s dealt with men like us a hundred times before. Which, to be fair, he has.
He’s one of the best lawyers in the city. I’ve used him for years, but that doesn’t mean I won’t replace him, because right now, I’m pissed.
“We’ve been over this,” I continue, voice tightening. “I’m not backing down.”
“This isn’t about backing down,” Richard says calmly. “It’s about what a court will allow.”
I stare at him, my jaw clenching in frustration.
“This is about Sebastian,” he adds. “Luke has agreed to everything else. You can’t block him from seeing his son just because you don’t like him.”
I push to my feet, slamming my hands onto the desk and leaning forward. “This isn’t about me hating him,” I bite out. “He doesn’t pay a penny towards the kid he claims to love so much. I cover everything.”
Richard exhales slowly, but I don’t give him a chance to respond.
“And we both know why he suddenly wants access,” I continue. “It’s not about Sebastian. It’s about me.”
“We can’t prove that,” Richard says, calm as ever. “And without proof, it doesn’t matter what we think.” My jaw tightens. “He made a point of telling the judge he was being reasonable,” Richard adds. “That he’s agreed to let Anika and Sebastian stay here, in your home.”
I let out a harsh laugh. “Like he had a choice.”
Richard says nothing.
“And if he was so concerned,” I go on, pacing now, “why didn’t he go for full custody?” It’s met with silence. “I’ll tell you why,” I snap. “Because he doesn’t want Sebastian.” I stop, turning back to face him. “He wants to get under my skin.”
Richard stands, straightening his jacket before picking up his briefcase.
“If he pushed for full custody,” he says evenly, “I think the judge would grant it. Let’s be grateful we’re not fighting that battle.
” I curl my hands to fists. Just that thought alone enrages me.
“I’ll have the paperwork sent over first thing tomorrow,” he continues. “You can sign on Anika’s behalf.”
He pauses at the door, glancing back. “And Ray, stay out of his way. The last thing we need is this dragging out.”
Then he’s gone. Silence settles over the office. It lasts all of three seconds before I swipe my arm across the desk, sending the paperwork flying.
“Remind me again why I can’t kill Luke fucking Malone?” I bite out.
Dale doesn’t even blink. “Because Anika asked you not to.”
I drag a hand through my hair, pacing once, twice, forcing my breathing to steady. “I should’ve bribed the judge,” I mutter.
“And risk Anika losing Sebastian altogether?” Dale asks. “We didn’t have a choice. This had to be done properly.”
I stop and release a long breath. He’s right, but it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.
Anika is resting when I get back from the hearing. I don’t disturb her. Instead, I stand in the living room, staring out across London, trying to settle the restless anger still simmering under my skin.
A loud clatter breaks through the silence, metal on tile.
Followed by . . .
“Fuck. Shit. Damn.”
I turn, spotting Wynter on her knees in the kitchen, scrambling to gather a stack of baking trays she’s just dropped.
I take in the sight before I can stop myself. Bare knees pressed to the floor. Hair slipping loose from her ponytail. Flustered.
I drag my gaze away, my jaw tightening. “You shouldn’t curse, Ms. Lee,” I say sharply.
She jumps, nearly dropping the trays again. “I’m sorry, Mr. Carmichael. I didn’t know you were here.”
“So, it’s fine when I’m not around?” I ask.
Her head snaps up. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
Strands of hair fall around her face as she shifts, trying to gather everything at once. She’s making it worse. Clattering. Fumbling. Distracting.
“Are you always this clumsy?” I mutter impatiently.
She pauses for a second, then shrugs. The move is small, almost helpless. “I’m having an off day.”
I exhale slowly, stepping closer before I think better of it. “Move.” She freezes. “I said move,” I repeat, quieter this time.
She shifts back slightly, and I crouch, picking up the remaining trays with far more efficiency than she had managed.
When I stand, she’s watching me.
“What are you even doing?” I ask, stacking them neatly on the counter.
“Trying to cook,” she says, brushing her hands down her thighs. “Clearly failing.”
I glance at the ingredients laid out and frown. It’s simple stuff, basic. She shouldn’t be struggling.
“Have you eaten today?” I ask without looking at her.
She pauses before muttering, “Yes.”
I turn slowly. “Don’t lie to me, Wynter.”
Her lips press together but she doesn’t reply so I sigh heavily and ask, “How’s Anika been today?”
“A little quiet but fine.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why didn’t you call me if something was wrong?”
“I didn’t say anything was wrong,” she replies, frowning. “She’s just been quiet.”
“Incompetence,” I mutter, already turning away.
I make it halfway across the room before I hear it. Soft. Under her breath. Not meant for my ears.
“Funny . . . one rule for him, another for the rest of us.”
I stop and turn, moving back towards the kitchen.
She doesn’t notice, too busy unloading the dishwasher, but still talking to herself.
“And this isn’t even my job,” she goes on, stacking plates with more force than necessary. “But I do it anyway, even when it’s not on the little list for idiots you gave me.”
I lean against the doorway, my arms folded as I listen.
“Know why?” she mutters. “Because I’m not incompetent.”
A plate hits the counter a little too hard.
“I can read. I can write. Shock, I know.”
I almost smile but bite my lip to stop it forming.
“So maybe,” she continues, her voice rising slightly, “you should get your head out of your arse and try being a decent human being for once, Mr. fucking. Carmichael.”
She exhales sharply, then turns. Our eyes lock, and she freezes, inhaling sharply.
“Shit,” she breathes out.
I let the silence stretch between us. It’s heavy and charged, and I can see her mind racing with things to say, but she keeps her mouth clamped shut. Wise move.
“My office,” I say quietly. “Now.”
WYNTER
If he wasn’t right behind me, I’d smack myself in the face. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut?
And why the hell is his office on another floor? The longer this walk goes on, the more certain I am that I’m about to be fired.
The door slams shut behind us, and I jump slightly.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt out. “I rant out loud sometimes, and if I’d known you were still there, I wouldn’t have—”
“Stop.”
His voice cuts through me, and I immediately stop speaking. He drags a hand down his face, eyes closing briefly like I’m the biggest inconvenience of his day.
“Anika likes you,” he says finally. “And with Catherine leaving tomorrow, I don’t have many options.” He steps closer. “Which is the only reason you still have a job,” he adds quietly. “Because if I had another choice, you’d be gone.”
My stomach drops, but I keep my eyes lowered.
“Are you even ready to take over?” he continues. “Because if you’re not, you tell me now.”
“I’m ready,” I say quickly. “Catherine’s given me her number, and the respite nurses are always available if I need advice.”
He studies me for a second. Like he’s trying to decide if I’m lying.
“A word of warning,” he says. “I know everything that happens in this building.” A chill runs down my spine. “If you’re going to run your mouth about me,” he continues, his voice dangerously low, “do it in your head. If you want to keep your job.”
I swallow. “Noted.”