Page 99 of How to Break My Heart

Night falls outside as the two of us sit in my office. It’s been an incredibly long day, and the last thing I want is to spend my night here in the city, but my father left me no choice.

He’s been on my back all week about wrapping up outstanding deals and insisting I spend time with Roland Whitney. One moment, he wants me to do one thing, and the next, another. He’s giving me whiplash.

My eyes reluctantly scan the first page to see the Whitney Group name in bold on the front. As I continue to read silently, the contract’s content becomes apparent.

My father will get his hands on the land he has so desperately wanted over the last two decades.

And Madelina is his bargaining tool.

The children she will be forced to bear in exchange for land to be transferred to the Beaumont name. All Roland and Georgina want is to be grandparents, which will grant them their wish as well as please my father.

I push the contract back to Chalmers, then stand up to pace the room with a fresh swell of anger rising within me. “I don’t understand why my sister must be involved,” I bellow.

Chalmers sits back in his chair, keeping the smug expression on his aging face.

“C’mon, kid. You know your father by now,” he chides.

He’s right.

I should know my father by now.

My arms cross over my chest as I stare out the window, trying to think of ways to end my father’s irrational thinking. This week alone, I closed one deal and secured our investors for two more in the works. The stock market rose in our favor, and we are tracking solid growth in this fiscal year alone.

“I will deal with this after the wedding,” I mutter while pinching the bridge of my nose. “My sister’s happiness is more important to me.”

Chalmers tips his head with an arrogant smirk, then says, “Don’t think the old fella will let this one go. Be careful. If you don’t play nice, you’ll pay the price one way or another.”

He leaves my office, only for me to slam my fist on my desk the second he is gone.

I sit in my chair, staring at my screen until a headache spreads across my temples, forcing me to close my eyes. My mind drifts to a time when life was simple and the weight on my shoulders was less because I was naive enough to think my life belonged to me.

My phone dings with a text message alert. I retrieve the phone from my pocket and see Everleigh’s name on the screen.

Everleigh

There’s a loud banging sound coming from my neighbor’s apartment, and I’m not sure if I should tell her to keep it down.

Me

It depends. What do you think she’s doing?

Everleigh

What do you think she’s doing?

A smile spreads across my lips as I type quickly. The headache slowly dissipates, the tension easing.

Me

Oh, I see. You’re in a bit of a pickle. I guess you could go over and politely ask her to keep it down, but you do run the risk of seeing her in sexy lingerie. How old are we talking?

Everleigh

Old enough to be your grandmother. She has a new boyfriend who is half her age. Kudos to her, but seriously, he’s a machine, and she’s the cowgirl having a good time.

Me

So, what you’re really trying to ask me is to come over so you can give her a run for her money?