Page 13 of Strange Seduction (Strange #2)

That version had clean lines, rigid boundaries, and didn’t make room for violent outbursts. Or threats. Or complications.

All of which seemed to increase when she was involved.

But she fit that version anyway.

She always would because I’ll always make room for her. And she does the same for me. She chooses me every time.

She knew I could be possessive, and she knew I wanted real things. I couldn’t fault her for wanting out, especially after I reversed the vasectomy without consulting her. But instead of running, she stayed.

I’d be a fool to take that for granted.

Still, I’d be lying if I said that didn’t scare the shit out of me. Because Carmen was serious about us, and she wasn’t reckless.

She didn’t give herself easily, so if she chose to give herself to me, it wasn’t blind faith. And if she was choosing me , I had to be worth it. I had to be better than the man I used to be and find some fucking self-control when she was around.

I was letting my own insecurity turn into something ugly and controlling. I wasn’t sure if who I was becoming could hold her without eventually breaking us.

But I had to try.

I had to stop loving her like I was trying to keep her and start loving her like I trusted she was already mine.

Because she was—and I’d be damned if I lost her to my own fear.

˙???˙

After wandering around my building like a ghost, I finally sat behind my desk, but I didn’t open the laptop. Instead, I stared at the skyline, wondering what Carmen was doing right now.

My phone lit up beside me.

Alyssa.

I exhaled and picked it up. “What?”

“Ew,” she drawled. “What’s with the attitude?”

“I don’t know. What’s with you telling Carmen about Mom?”

There was a pause, just long enough to let me know she was expecting this conversation but wasn’t expecting my reaction.

“She asked, and I told her. Though you should’ve been the one to tell her.”

My jaw clenched. “Exactly. I decide on what I think Carmen should know about Mom because I am the one in the relationship with her.”

“If you’re looking for an apology, you’re not gonna get it.”

“Of course not. You and Mom have a talent for overstepping boundaries in my relationship. I’m not even surprised anymore.”

Alyssa sighed. “You’re not the only one who cares about her, you know. You can’t hide things from her, Theo. When she finds out, she’ll lose her trust in you.”

I stared at the ceiling as I spoke, voice flat.

“I’ll handle Carmen. But any unnecessary stress, especially when it comes to Mom, is something she doesn’t need to concern herself with.

So, please. Do me a favor, do not tell Carmen about anything that’s going on with Mom and us.

Specifically, Mom and I. I don’t care if she asks. I don’t want her worrying about that.”

Alyssa didn’t argue. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

There was a long pause before she said again, “Mom’s spiraling, Theo.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “I know.”

My mother had…a problem, and the problem was herself.

Or more specifically, who she was.

‘ Melissa Graham ’ was adopted from Korea by rich white people when she was seven months old.

Melissa Graham, however, was not her birth name, and she doesn’t even know which part of Korea she was from.

Her adoptive parents didn’t bother teaching her anything about her culture.

Not the language. Not the history. Not even the food.

They treated her like something exotic to dress up and show off in their golf clubs and yacht circles.

When she met my Dad, he had already taken over Corner Stones.

He was rich and handsome and her parents reluctantly approved, though I was sure his proximity to wealth made up for other factors they deemed ‘unworthy’ .

It didn’t matter anyway.

She had traded being a decoration in one house for another. It was the same as it had always been her whole life. Dressing up to be paraded around for my father’s rich friends, for his socialite persona.

From souvenir kid to trophy wife.

And now? I think she’s going through a full-blown, alcoholic, midlife identity crisis because she had no one to place her on the pedestal she had grown used to.

I almost felt bad for her.

She had no idea who she was anymore, and instead of doing the work to figure that out, she was taking it out on everyone around her. Me and my siblings, mostly.

But especially me.

It used to be Kassandra for a long time. She was the firstborn, after all. The ‘accident’ that turned her into a wife too soon and a mother before she ever figured out how to be a person. It was Kassandra who turned down the family business and ‘drove my Dad to cheat on her.’— her words, not mine .

But now that Kassandra has made herself unavailable to be my mother’s punching bag, the honor fell to me. The Nepo son. The company head who refused to shower his mother with gifts because his girlfriend was more important.

How dare he not bend to her every demand? Can’t he see what she went through?

And in her head, she’s still a victim of circumstance. She married Dad too young. She got pregnant too fast. None of it was her fault. None of it ever is. And now we all owe her some kind of cosmic debt for the life she sacrificed.

Oh, you can’t drop everything to fly her to Milan because she got invited to Fashion Week last minute? Do you know what she gave up to bring you into this world?

You can’t send her a hundred thousand dollars to buy a new car when her old one just needs new tires? You’re the most ungrateful son in the goddamn universe.

Honestly, I had written off my relationship with my mother years ago when she disrespected Carmen and refused to apologize for it—missing my graduation in rebellion.

That told me everything I needed to know.

But Carmen, God bless her soul , was adamant that I repair that relationship. Even though I refused to let them near each other until my mother apologized, she kept pushing me toward reconciliation.

With Carmen’s dad being sick, she was so worried about my mother and me. I guess she didn’t want me to go through what she was going through, losing years of time with my mother, only to regret it later.

But the way I’m feeling now? I don’t think I’ll regret cutting my mother off at all.

Alyssa’s voice cut through my thoughts. “She said you’ve changed.”

I let out a humorless, ironic laugh. “Yeah? I think I agree with her.”

“She’s hurting.”

“I don’t care. She’s been pulling this shit for years, and I’m done. I ain’t letting her do me like she did Kass.” I froze. “How is Kass, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Alyssa admitted. “Haven’t talked to her in two weeks.”

I blinked. “Seriously, Alyssa?”

“What do you want me to say? I tried, and she shut me out. Why the hell don’t you try now?”

“I don’t live down the street from her. All I can do is call, and she’s not answering.”

“I’ve been by her house, okay? She’s not answering that either. She just…needs time, Theo. It’s hard on her.”

I dragged a hand down my face. “What are the courts saying?”

Alyssa’s voice dropped. “Her husband wants full custody.”

I went still. “Bastard. He wants to take Ava too? Is the court actually considering it?”

“Looks like it.”

“Fuck.” I stood and started pacing. “I know she messed up, but this is extreme.”

“Well,” Alyssa said carefully, “she doesn’t work, he provides the childcare, and—like it or not—she is the cause of the divorce.”

“Well, it’s not like she was a terrible mother. She cheated. She’s not abusive. She doesn’t neglect Ava. That has nothing to do with their divorce.”

Alyssa’s tone sharpened. “Theo. Do you really think Kass can raise Ava on her own?”

Oop.

I didn’t answer.

“Exactly,” she said. “I love Ava just as much as you do, but we have to think about what’s good for her. Not what makes us feel better.”

I stopped pacing. “Maybe I could help? I can sign as financial support for Kass. Maybe the courts would reconsider, y’know?”

“Stop babying her!” Alyssa snapped. “Kassandra’s own actions got her into this mess. She’s a grown-ass woman. Did you have this much sympathy for Dad when he cheated?”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because she shouldn’t lose her kid over it.”

“It’s not your place, Delancy. If she wanted your help, she’d ask for it.”

I groaned. “Stop calling me that.”

Before she could respond, a soft knock came at the door, and Mila poked her head in.

“Just a reminder—team meeting in twenty.”

“Right. Thanks.” I turned back to my phone. “Got to go, Lyssa. We’ll talk later.”

“Wait!” she said quickly. “Can you send me five thousand dollars?”

Oh my God.

I stared at the ceiling. “What happened to ‘don’t baby your sisters’?”

“Theo, that doesn’t apply to me. I’m literally just twenty-four.”

“Goodbye, Alyssa.”

“Ugh. Bye, Delancy.”

“I said don’t—”

Boop. Boop. Boop.

She hung up.

I stood there for a moment. I was so sick of this shit.

Then, with a resigned sigh, I pulled out my phone and opened the bank app.

Five thousand to Alyssa with the note:

Get a job, bum.

Then I pulled up Kassandra’s contact and typed in the amount. One hundred thousand.

Transfer complete.

I hovered over the message box for a second, then typed:

I’m not sure if this helps. But I’m here. If you need me or anything else.

I hit send, then tossed the phone onto the desk and headed to the meeting.

˙???˙

The penthouse was dim, except for the pulsing flicker from the TV, which was muted on the home screen. At first, I thought she might’ve gone to bed. Quiet like that usually meant Carmen was asleep—or pissed.

But then I heard it from the bedroom.

Sade.

Sweetest Taboo specifically. A song I hadn’t heard in years.

I followed the sound, loosening my tie as I rounded the corner into the bedroom, and stopped cold.

There she was.

Carmen, barefoot in a silk dress that hung off one shoulder, was swaying in the center of the room, unaware she wasn’t alone. Her hair was pinned up haphazardly with one of her metal claw clips, a few curls already escaping to frame her flushed face.

The half-empty bottle of champagne I had sent up sat sweating on the nightstand. I was glad she had already begun enjoying herself.

She turned and spotted me.

A grin stretched across her mouth—wicked, and entirely too pleased with herself.

“You’re late,” she said, hips still moving to the beat. “The party started without you.”

I stepped closer, undoing the first few buttons of my shirt. “Is that my champagne?”

“Technically? It was a gift. You sent it up.” She spun, slowly, arms above her head. “I just accepted it.”

I laughed under my breath. “You’re drunk.”

“Tipsy,” she corrected. “There’s a difference. Besides—” She pointed at me with a remote like it was a dagger. “—you knew what you were doing. This was a setup.”

I smirked. “Maybe.”

The song transitioned into the chorus, and she extended a hand, her grin softening and slowing.

“Dance with me, Teddy Bear.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re calling me Teddy Bear. That’s how I know you’re faded.”

“Shh. I’m being romantic,” she said. “Don’t ruin this.”

I crossed the room and took her hand. “I’m not ruining anything.”

One inhale of her breath as I embraced her told me everything I needed to know. “Smells like you had more than the champagne, Sweetness.”

She shrugged and smiled. “So I had a taste of the complimentary bar—” Not complimentary. “—what’s the harm? I’ve been cooped up in here all day. Might as well make the most of it.”

I sighed, guilt pricking me. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

She noticed immediately and refused to let my mood sour. “It’s okay, Teddy. I’m fine. Let’s just dance.”

We moved in time with the music, swaying slowly and lazily.

It had nothing to do with skill and everything to do with being close, evident by how she pushed up against me.

Carmen’s palm was warm against my chest, and her head tilted back just enough to meet my eyes.

Her laugh bubbled out when I stumbled trying to match her rhythm.

“Okay,” she teased, eyebrows raised, “so you have no hips.”

“I do have hips,” I defended, squinting down at her. “They just don’t dance on command. Actually, they don’t dance at all.”

“Excuses, Theodore. You’re so stiff.”

“'Cause I’m carrying the weight of your drunk ass.”

She gasped, hand pressing dramatically to her chest as I laughed. “Rude!”

Sometimes I think you’re just too good for me.

Sade continued softly in the background, and our movements slowed. Her fingers curled into my shirt, her cheek settling gently against me.

“I missed you today,” she murmured.

I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing her in. “I missed you, too.”

“How was work?”

“Frustrating.” I kissed her forehead. “I talked to Alyssa today. No more questions about my mother.”

She stilled in my arms. The way her body locked told me she hadn’t expected that.

Yeah. Who’s stiff now?

Carmen pulled back just enough to look at me.

“I was worried about you,” she said softly. “I didn’t know if I should ask, or wait until you were ready.”

“I know. But you talk to me about your concerns. Not my sister. Understand?”

She looked down. “It’s kinda hard to.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

“I mean… it’s been a lot,” she went on. “Adjusting to each other again. Opening up to each other. Figuring out how to be in the same place again.”

I pondered that for a minute. “We’re trying.”

“I know,” she sighed before she rested her cheek on my chest.

“We’ll figure it out,” I reassured her. “‘Cause it’s worth figuring out.”

Her expression softened. She gave me one of those small, barely-there smiles.

“Good. Now, keep dancing with me,” she whispered.

I leaned in, brushing my lips against hers. “I wish I could, baby. But we gotta start getting ready for the party.”

She groaned, exaggerated and theatrical, pulling away to head for the bathroom. “Fine.”

“Attitude!” I called out after her, and I could practically feel her rolling her eyes. I wasn’t worried, though, I’d fix it for her in a minute.

I smirked at the dramatics and started to undress, only for my phone to ping in my pants pocket—one notification.

The money I’d sent to Kass.

Returned.

Along with a message:

I’m good. I just need space. Please. Don’t contact me.

I stared at the screen for a moment, thumb hovering above the response bar, then locked the phone without replying.