Page 24 of Filthy Business (Obsessive Age Gap #1)

Magnus

Moody, emotional, weepy, and fatigued.

I put my phone back on the nightstand, realising I needed to step up for Iris.

Pregnancy hormones were no fucking joke.

Tonight she’d been soft, sweet, and accommodating—not her usual sassy self.

The meal she prepared was delicious.

Crowned by dessert and a shot of Macallan, it was perfection.

Her thoughtful gesture took me by surprise, but as I lay here watching her sleep, I realised that aside from my parents or grandparents, I’d never received that kind of—thoughtfulness.

It made me want to wrap her in cotton wool and shield her from the world.

I never wanted her to lose her sweet, gentle heart.

Iris Dalton—soon to be Trentham—wasn’t a hardened cynic like me, and she didn’t realise how much I needed her in my life.

I gathered her in my arms, resting my hand on her lower back, and fell asleep rubbing her spine.

The woman not only held my heart, but nourished our babe within her.

***

I watched her carefully the next morning, but she was suited up and ready for work.

The drive into the office passed in comfortable silence, her cradled in my lap, her hand drifting between my cheek and my tie.

Her quiet sigh as we pulled up didn’t go unnoticed, and I held her a few moments longer, peppering her face with light kisses.

“I’ll get you a footstool for the conference. I can’t have my pregnant future wife kneeling on the floor when you worship my cock at lunchtime,”

I murmured.

“Again, your generosity astounds me, Daddy,”

she said dryly.

“I know. You’re so lucky,”

I said, nipping her earlobe.

Her smile was like sunshine, and this time, it was me who sighed when Nick knocked on the window.

***

When Benedict turned up in my office with a file in hand—bleak and serious—I cancelled all meetings for the rest of the day.

He left shortly after, and I made a few calls before messaging Iris that I couldn’t make it to lunch.

Nick drove me home, and I started searching through all of her belongings.

I was about to give up when I looked around at the mess I’d made.

Her life was scattered around me.

Clothes. Books. Little traces of her everywhere. Then my eyes landed on the small travel suitcase, half-zipped and tucked beneath the bed.

I pulled it out and unzipped the side compartment.

Inside was a padded brown envelope. I slid it open and found a medical report—and a white spiral-bound diary covered in colourful foil love hearts and stars.

My hands shook.

I opened the diary.

Flicked through the pages until I reached the date.

And I began to read.

29th June 2017 —

I can’t believe we got invited to a sixth-form party!! Exams are finally over and this is the perfect way to kick off summer.

No way can I tell Mum and Dad, though.

I’ve already picked the cutest outfit for it. I need to call Josie ASAP.

This is so epic!!!

5th July 2017 —

Josie won't speak to me.

Her parents turned me away from the door.

Mum won't stop crying and Dad? I’ve never seen him like this.

I’m scared. I feel so numb and dead inside. I want to die, but I can't do that to mum and dad. I've done enough. I was so stupid. Should never have went to that stupid fucking party.

I hate him.

8th July 2017 —

Everything’s stopped hurting on the outside, but I still feel like a zombie from The Walking Dead. I just wander around feeling… nothing.

The police came back today but not to help.

They didn’t even look at me properly.

Just stood there and said I wasn’t raped. That I seduced Luke Trentham. Like I wanted it.

Dad lost it.

He threw the medical report at them and shouted until his voice cracked, but they didn’t care.

They stood there like statues and said I’d taken the drugs willingly. That I came onto him, and now that I knew who he was, I was after his money. Like I planned the whole thing.

They said if I didn’t drop the charges, they’d press charges against me.

Luke’s mum gave Dad a letter.

He tore it into pieces and let it fall all over the floor.

Like snow. I just watched it. I didn’t move.

After they left, I listened to Mum and Dad shouting.

They sounded like strangers.

Then Mum started crying. I could hear it through the walls.

I went into the bathroom.

Picked up Dad’s razor.

I didn’t even cry. I just stared at my wrists for ages. I didn’t do it. I’m so weak. I’m so weak. So fucking weak.

19th July 2017 —

Dad sat me down.

His skin looked grey, eyes red and hadn’t shaved for such a long time.

We’re moving out of London.

Leona Trentham got my dad fired.

I cried for myself, him and mum.

I kept telling him how sorry I was. Remembering how angry he got when he found out I lied and went to the party.

In the end, he lay with me, holding me so tight that I could barely breathe.

He said to me that he was sorry he couldn't get me justice.

That he couldn't protect his little girl.

That was the only time I ever saw my dad cry and it broke me.

24th July 2017 —

It took me by surprise.

I don't know why.

The online campaign of abuse.

I was called every name under the sun.

There were so many names, pictures, abusive words that they all blurred together.

I never whispered a word to my parents. They already had too much to worry about. Money, the mortgage for the house, selling and moving. Every day I hated myself a little more. I did this to us.

16th August 2017 —

The bitch put a hex on my dad.

He can't get a job anywhere.

I looked the rich bitch up.

They look like a perfect family but no one can see their horrid fucking rotten souls.

No wonder Luke was a rapist bastard.

Entitled little cunt.

I fucking hate them. I hope they all die. Fucking painfully.

2nd September 2017 —

New flat, no more house.

New school and another birthday.

My mum tried her best.

16 today.

In London, I had so many ideas on what to do, who to invite.

Life is pretty fucked up. I barely remember the girl I used to be. Mum said I’m all skin and bones now. I dunno. I just don't care anymore. I mean what's the point, right? Josie bowed out. She knew!

Dad.

I’m so worried about Dad.

I try and be cheerful around him.

We both pretend that everything is okay.

I think inside, he’s breaking like I am.

He got a job. Not his fancy office job, but in a post office. I’m going to study hard. School starts in two days. I will help my parents.

Them? They can all eat shit and DIE!!!

11th January 2019 —

It’s weird talking to my dad in the graveyard. Every day after school I go and sit with him. I don't think it was a heart attack. I think it was broken. Because of me. I didn't think anything could hurt me again. But I was wrong. Very fucking wrong.

How was this fair? How did they get to walk away? The bitch had her husband and her cunt of a son. She probably rolled around in a pile of money every night. I hoped she got paper cuts in her fanny.

12th January 2019 —

I sat on the wet grass beside Dad today and everything made sense.

All this anger inside of me, I needed to refocus it on one single goal.

To destroy the people who destroyed me and my family.

I needed to get back to London.

To watch them. Once sixth form was finished I’d go to any Uni in London. Any Uni except the one Luke attended.

I don't know how I’ll convince mum but I have to make it believable.

She won't say no if she sees how adamant I am.

I’ve learnt my lesson and I need to put it behind me.

My dad wasn't here anymore but I’d get revenge.

Not only for me but for my Dad.

They would know what it feels like to lose everything.

I swore on Dad’s grave today.

I’m never stopping. Not until I see them suffer. Not until I see the glee die in their eyes. Not until they see I’m not the weak girl I used to be.

His dad was the key.

Without him they had nothing.

Leona was a broke ass bitch before she put her stinking pussy out.

Doesn't say much for the dad’s taste in women.

I didn’t flick through any more pages.

She’d written almost daily at the beginning.

At some point, I’d need to force myself to read it all.

But today was not that day.

I opened up the folded sheet, staring at the report of scarring and Rohypnol in her system. I swallowed before scrambling to the bathroom, throwing up violently at the thought of my blood being capable of raping a fifteen-year-old girl.

Luke would’ve been seventeen at the time.

I was knee-deep in expansion talks.

Another office.

More staff.

More pressure. Too busy chasing success to realise what was happening under my own roof.

I sat on the bathroom floor in a daze.

Iris.

My bright and beautiful Iris.

The thought of her losing her innocence in such a vile manner made my stomach lurch again.

My eyes burned as I blinked, staring at the sterile white tiles of the bathroom floor.

I rubbed them when another thought hit me—she’d told me she only had one experience before me.

I turned into the toilet bowl and dry-heaved until my stomach hurt.

The fury came later.