Binding Fate (Fateful #1)
1. Chapter 1
OLIVER
I have never been one to believe in feeble things such as fate. I believe in hard work and doing things my way – the only way. Some may say that’s selfish or close-minded, but when have I ever cared about what other people think of me? - Never.
I own my own property and have a successful career; it’s only a matter of time before I’m made a junior partner at K the original plan was to help those without a voice.
However, when the famous duo, otherwise known as Kaine however, I can see how graduating Summa cum laude from Harvard Law School and being valedictorian of my class caught their attention. Therefore, who am I to complain when they’ve given me nothing but free rein and flexibility over the years?
I’ve moved around a lot, being someone who is in constant need of change; staying in one place for too long isn’t in my nature, so I’ve been fortunate enough to have worked in over thirty K something about how he was able to turn his desperation for the job into determination to perfect it appealed to me deeply.
And here, we were all these years later. He’s done nothing but proven himself every day since then, and although I’d never tell him this, ten years down the line, he’s like me - he’s the best.
A well-oiled machine that keeps my life running smoothly, or as he likes to put it, the Nigel to my Miranda, a reference I’m forced to understand after he made me watch The Devil Wears Prada during one of our overnighters in the office.
His favourite movie is the reason why he wears the same glasses as Stanley Tucci does in the film, but he believes he is the better Nigel because he dresses better and has a full head of hair.
I tell you, having a vain, strong-headed assistant is not easy, but I’ve grown used to it. Without him, it would have taken a lot longer to get here.
“They’re ready for you.” Nigel beams with a grin, holding the door open for me. I nod, adjusting the button on my custom-tailored suit and stepping inside.
****
More demand, more meetings, and less time in actual court, as that was seen as grunt work. Too busy basking in the excitement of being offered the job, I accepted it. Forgetting about a certain responsibility I had, the reason I’d chosen to settle here in London.
One I refuse to neglect, as I was prone to the feeling myself, which is why I choose to abide my time while stuck in this snail-moving traffic by working out a plan.
Something that isn’t easy to do when people around me feel the need to honk their horns and edge their cars forward, despite none of us being able to move with the roadworks ahead. It’s pointless and only makes what should be a half-hour drive into a tedious fifty-minute drive.
While Nigel is firing out suggestions over the Bluetooth speaker, I send my best friend a brief message to explain that I’ll be home later than usual. Then focus on finding a way that allows me to settle into my new job and make time for those who need me.
Bloody hell, I almost thanked God the moment I pulled up in front of my house.
Already feeling lighter to be home, and by the way, Nigel and I had managed to solve the hurdle we encountered.
I shook off the weight looming on my shoulders, turned off the engine, bid Nigel goodbye, climbed out of my Dark Grey Porsche Cayenne and walked up the steps to my four-bedroom townhouse.
Once I reach the door, business gets set aside for a few hours. Why? Because coming home and opening the front door to my favourite person is the best part of the day.
Many would find it shocking that someone as cold-hearted as I have someone waiting for me at home, but that’s because I don’t tend to disclose such things, having deep values about my privacy.
That, and I’d prefer others didn’t know that I’d greatly grown attached to what awaits me on the other side of the door, something I can no longer live without – at least not anymore.
Knowing they can hear the jiggle of my keys, I’ve learnt to open the door as quickly as possible, as it’s always barely open before I hear the words “Ollie!!” echo through the house.
By the time I’ve closed the door, my tiny human is darting towards me. Once we’ve made contact, I forget all about the stiffness in my shoulders or the constant migraine I’ve had from the stress of today, fades in seconds.
Instead, I focus on sweeping my mini-me up and into my arms, just in time for his small arms to cling around my neck.
“Hey, bud,” I exclaim, kissing his cheek with a smile - him being the only one in the world who receives my affection. I hold him just as tight as he’s holding me, when the agonising thought of the usual nine hours I spend away from him is only going to increase from now on.
“Welcome home, honey, where’s my kiss?” my idiotic best friend teases as I walk my mini-me and myself over to him. Manoeuvring my hand that rests on Theo’s back, I flip him off, mouthing the words, “Fuck off.”
But that just makes him laugh.
“Aww, I love you too.” Min-Joon grins with a hand on his heart in a mock gesture. I then quickly hide my finger as my little man breaks away from the hug, wanting to be put down.
“How was school, Theo?” I ask, picking up my briefcase, which I had discarded earlier, seconds before our hug. I watched him bounce on his tiptoes with excitement.
“Good. But come look!” Theo shouts, brushing over my question and grabbing my hand, doing his best attempt to pull me towards the living room, but I turn it into a game we play to test his strength, giving in at the last second.
“What is it you wanna show me, bud?” I ask, unbuttoning my suit jacket as Theo gestures for us to take a seat on the sofa.
“I beat Joonie in Mario Kart today!!” he beams, bouncing up and down in his seat.
This boy had an unhealthy obsession with all things Super Mario.
If his Super Mario-themed bedroom wasn’t enough, I had Nigel buy him the game and a Nintendo Switch for Christmas last year, and to this day, it’s all he plays with.
“Joonie cried when I beat him!” Theo adds, making me turn my attention towards my best friend, whom I can see in the living room from the kitchen, thanks to the open floor-plan layout. He’s in there finishing off dinner, a usual part of our everyday routine.
“That was supposed to be a secret, little man!” Joonie, or as I know him, Min-Joon, a lovable pain in the arse, mumbles under his breath, but judging by the awkward smirk he gives me, I know it’s all an act…mostly.