KIER
The office was empty. Everyone had gone hours ago. My PA too.
I was still at my desk, eyes burning from staring at the screen. I skimmed the Norwood files one last time and sent a message:
"Have the Norwood files finalized and on my desk first thing tomorrow. No mistakes."
I leaned back, rubbing my temples, then grabbed another stack. Tomorrow's meeting was with a small startup—bright-eyed, overconfident, probably praying for a miracle. They wouldn't get one. If their pitch didn't hold up, I'd shut it down before my coffee cooled.
Their proposal was messy. Too many promises, not enough numbers. I slashed through the fluff, circled every lie. Amateurs.
When I looked up again, the clock glared 10:07 p.m. I sighed, shut everything down, and grabbed my jacket. Just as I reached for the door, my phone buzzed.
Dad.
I hesitated, then picked up. "Hello, Father."
Static. Then breathing.
"So, if I don't call, you never will?" His voice rumbled through the speaker.
"Dad, I've been busy—"
"Where are you?"
"Still at the office," I said, stepping into the elevator.
He chuckled, surprising me. "Didn't think I'd see the day you'd take life seriously."
I said nothing, watching the numbers drop.
"Why are you still there at this hour? You should be with your wife," he added.
Of course. The complaints never stopped. I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "If I'm not at work, I'm lazy. If I stay late, I'm neglecting my wife. Which one is it, Dad?"
"Both," he shot back. "You should've figured out the balance by now."
The elevator doors opened. The lobby was dim, the night guard half-asleep. My shoes echoed across the marble.
"I'll be coming for dinner tomorrow," he said suddenly. Voices murmured in the background. Then—faintly—a baby's cry.
My brow furrowed. "Where are you?"
"Just make sure you're ready for my arrival," he replied, ignoring the question.
Typical Donald Blackwood. Always giving orders like a king addressing peasants.
I reached my car, started the engine, and sat still for a moment. My father didn't do kids. Or crying. Or anything remotely soft.
So why the hell was there a baby?
Before I could ask, the line went dead.
I stared at the screen, jaw tightening. He'd hung up on me—again.
Still, his tone had been off. Lighter. Almost… pleased.
I shoved the thought away and pulled onto the road. The city lights streaked past, but my mind wasn't on the traffic—it was on Genesis. Her shy smile. Her silence that somehow screamed louder than most words.
My foot pressed harder on the accelerator.
Another call lit up the screen. I hit the steering wheel control.
"Kier Blackwood."
Loud music exploded through the speakers.
"Kier, my man! Where've you been?" Rico slurred. "We never see you at Opal Noir anymore!"
I smirked. "Working, Rico. Some of us still do that."
"Yeah, right," Trey chimed in. "Hold on, baby—yeah, just like that—so, bro, what's this we hear?"
"What?" I asked.
"That the panty-dropper himself got married," Roxy yelled over the noise.
I froze. "Where did you hear that?"
"Some gossip blog. Said you tied the knot. Thought it was a joke," Lexi added, laughing.
My grip on the steering wheel tightened. "It's true."
Silence.
"Wait—you're serious?" Trey said.
"For real?" Roxy's tone shifted.
"For real."
"Damn," Rico muttered. "So the king's fallen."
Lexi snorted. "No more Opal Noir? No more Tequila Thursdays? No more—"
"Enough," I said sharply.
Trey laughed nervously. "Relax, man. We're just saying, if it's one of those fake rich-people marriages, that's cool. PR stunt, family deal, whatever. Just say it."
I didn't answer.
"So it's not fake?" Roxy pressed.
"It's… complicated."
"Ooooh, complicated," Lexi teased. "So not love."
Trey jumped in, "Then come out tonight. Set the record straight. Show them you're still you."
Rico whooped. "Yeah, remind them who Kier Blackwood really is!"
Their words echoed—tempting, easy, dangerous. For a moment, I almost wanted to believe them. That nothing had changed. That Genesis meant nothing.
Because this marriage was never supposed to be real.
It was meant to be convenient. Controlled. Not a trap.
But now… I wasn't sure anymore.
"You know what?" I muttered. "Maybe I do need to blow off some steam."
Cheers erupted. "That's our guy!" Trey yelled.
"Opal Noir, baby!" Roxy shouted. "Tell your wife it's boys' night!"
I ended the call mid-laugh. The car fell silent again, except for the steady hum of the road.
I gripped the wheel tighter.
This marriage wasn't supposed to mean anything. So why did the thought of going out feel like betrayal?
I raked a hand through my hair. "Screw it," I muttered. "I can do what I want. I'm Kier Blackwood."