Page 42 of Strange Seduction (Strange #2)

Grown Men Things.

Day Thirteen.

The tension in the office had reached a boiling point. It felt like everyone was walking on eggshells, and I couldn’t give a damn. Vince and I had been at each other’s throats all morning, and it seemed like the entire office was getting pulled into the mess we were creating.

I was already irritated as hell by the time my father called. I knew it was coming, but I didn’t need a reminder of how bad things had gotten. I let the phone ring once before picking up.

“What’s going on, Theo?” My father’s voice was sharp.

“You want the short version or the long one?” I said, sarcasm dripping from my words.

“Don’t play games with me. You and Vince have been causing a scene all morning.

You’re turning my billion-dollar company into fucking Love Island, and I’m over this bullshit.

I’m hearing complaints from every corner of that office, and frankly, I don’t have time for it.

Ever since that girl got in, you’ve been acting like you’re back in fucking college! Get your shit together!”

I could practically feel his disappointment, even through the phone. I looked over at Vince, who was still stewing in his own anger, ready for the next round. I pressed the phone to my chest.

“You had to call my father?” I half smirked. “Can’t handle the shit you started?”

“You took it overboard, and I brought it to the attention of the owner of the company.”

I laughed, “Ight. But this man has been trying to get me to act right since high school. This ain’t gonna do what you think it will.”

I turned my attention back to my father.

“Yes, Wendell?”

He groaned in annoyance. “What the fuck is going on in that office?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” I shot a look over to Vince. “Besides. This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been messing with Carmen.”

Vince, who’d been standing across the room, took a step forward, clearly unable to keep his mouth shut.

“He took it too far by calling me while him and his girlfriend were fucking! Very unprofessional and uncalled for.”

I scoffed in frustration.

“Well, too fucking bad. None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t intentionally tried to mess with my girlfriend. She’s not going anywhere, Vince.” My voice was low, controlled, but there was no mistaking the bite behind it.

Vince, with a smug look, shot back. “You’re holding the poor girl hostage.”

I didn’t flinch. Instead, I leaned in a little, staring him down. “Did you forget her begging me for more? Didn’t sound like a fucking hostage to me.”

The words hit harder than I expected. For a second, Vince looked like he might snap, but he held it together. Still, the smugness faded, replaced by something darker.

“Both of you, stop it. Theo, that was taking it too far.” My father’s tone was tight, but I could tell he wasn’t going to let me off easily.

Still, I didn’t back down. “I don’t give a fuck. Carmen Reyes belongs to me, and everyone in this office better fucking act like it.”

“Damn it, Theo—”

“I don’t give a fuck, Dad.” I cut him off, the words coming faster now. “I’ve told Vince this a hundred times. Carmen’s mine, and I’m not backing down.”

Vince stepped forward, his fists clenched. “You don’t deserve her, Clayton.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I waved him off. “I’ll remember that when I’m in the woman you wet dream about raw.”

There was a flash of rage in Vince’s eyes.

“I’m done with this.” And with that, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I stayed still for a moment, feeling the adrenaline pulse through my veins. My father’s silence on the other end of the line stretched longer than usual—probably as he digested everything I’d just laid on him.

“Wendell?” I broke the quiet, voice steady despite the tension.

“Are you a child, Theodore?” His tone was sharp.

I swallowed hard. “I don’t know. Are you gonna treat me like one?”

A short laugh, dry and bitter. “Funny. I thought I told you about that girl. Now look—you’re causing all kinds of chaos in the office. Over petty bullshit.”

“I don’t regret anything,” I said, feeling my pulse quicken. “I’d do it again.”

He sighed heavily. “At a certain point, you’re going to have to grow up, Theodore. If you can’t control the company, how am I supposed to retire?”

“You can retire whenever you want,” I shot back.

“How? When your pride has been a problem since the moment that girl landed there? Will this happen every time one of the team members looks at her? This behavior is obsessive.”

“It gets the point across.”

“You’re insane.” His voice rose, frustrated.

“You need to get a grip on reality. You’re the CEO, not the child who used to slack off and cause havoc back in Georgia, the one I always had to clean up after.

What if he goes to the press with this? Do you know how badly it’ll reflect on the company? You want to lose everything? Now?”

“No,” I said firmly. “I don’t.”

“Then act like it. Clean up your fucking act, and for God’s sake, get rid of that girl. Send her home.”

“That’s non-negotiable.”

“Theodore, I swear—”

“No.” I cut him off, voice low but steady. “I do everything you say. You want me to stay in Italy to run this company. Fine. I can’t open a tattoo shop because it would be a distraction. Sure. But Carmen? She’s where I draw the line. You can fuck with everything else, but not her.”

“Can’t you see she’s a distraction too?”

“I said she’s staying.”

There was a long pause, then he snapped, “I don’t have time for this childish shit. Do what you want, Theodore. But mark my words: you’re gonna regret that choice. You can’t have both. The price of her staying has a price tag you’re not ready to pay.”

“Is that all? I have work to do.” I kept my jaw tight, refusing to let the frustration show.

The line went dead.

˙???˙

My phone buzzed in my pocket just as I stepped back into my office. I glanced at the screen.

Jasmine Kingsley.

I hadn’t spoken to Carmen’s mother in weeks—maybe months. We weren’t exactly on each other’s holiday card lists.

I answered anyway. “Hello, Ms. Kingsley. How are you?”

“Enough small talk, Theodore,” she snapped. “I’m looking for my daughter.”

Straight to the point, as always.

“Carmen’s at the hotel,” I said, straightening up. “I’m at work. What’s going on? You can’t reach her?”

“Aren’t you observant?”

Maybe she turned off the phone when she saw you calling.

I let out a slow breath, trying to keep things neutral. “Would you like me to take a message?”

“No.” Her voice dropped. “What I want you to do is get off your corporate ass and go comfort your girlfriend.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

There was a pause. And then:

“Her father has died.”

I stood there frozen for a moment, the air sucked clean out of the room.

“What?” I repeated, barely recognizing my own voice.

“Passed away this morning,” she said briskly, as if saying it faster would dull the blow. “I thought she would’ve told you by now. Maybe you’d actually be there for her.”

My grip tightened around the phone. “She didn’t say anything. I—I’ll go to her now.”

“You should’ve already been with her,” Jasmine said coldly. “But at least do the right thing now. She needs someone.”

And just like that, she hung up.

I stared at the screen, still processing.

Fuck.

I don’t remember the drive back. My hands gripped the wheel, jaw locked so tight it ached, the city blurring past in shades of gray.

I barely waited for the valet to take the keys to the car before I bolted through the lobby, heart pounding in my chest like I was the one who had been hit with the loss.

The elevator took too long. Every floor it passed felt like an hour.

When I finally pushed open the door to our suite, the silence hit first.

I called her name.

Nothing.

Then I heard it—the slightest sound unraveling in the dark.

I stepped into the bedroom and found her curled up on top of the covers, still in this morning’s clothes. Her hair was wild, damp at the temples. She was lying on her side, knees pulled up to her chest, her back to me.

Her body shook with quiet, controlled sobs, and my heart cracked open.

“Carmen,” I said softly, approaching the bed. “Baby.”

No answer.

I sank down beside her, careful, slow. Reached out and touched her arm. She flinched, and I stilled.

“It’s me,” I whispered, smoothing a hand down her back. “I’m here, Amore mio .”

Still nothing.

I moved around to kneel in front of her, needing to see her face. Her eyes were open but distant. Red-rimmed. She looked right through me.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I just found out. Your mom called me. I came as fast as I could.”

Her lip trembled, but her gaze didn’t shift.

She didn’t blink.

Didn’t speak.

“I’m here,” I repeated, brushing her hair from her face. “You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know—I’ve got you. Okay? I’ve got you.”

I tried to hold her hand. She didn’t squeeze back.

I lay down beside her, and still, she didn’t move. No matter what I said—how many times I said I loved her, or that I’d stay with her through all of it—she didn’t respond.

She just cried. Silently. The sound was so soft it was almost worse than screaming.

And I stayed. Listening and wanting nothing more than to take it all away.

But all I could do was be there.

And I was.

2:03 a.m.

The room was dark except for the muted light bleeding in through the windows. Outside, the world slept. But inside our suite, time had stalled.

She hadn’t eaten. Hadn’t slept. Barely moved.

I’d brought her soup. Toast. Tea. I offered to run a bath, to hold her, to step outside if she needed space. Nothing worked.

She just laid there, staring at the wall.

I sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, staring down at my hands. I’d always thought I’d know what to do in a moment like this. But right now, I was useless. No words. No touch. No closeness reached her.

I tried again.

“Carmen,” I whispered, brushing the back of my hand over her cheek. Her skin was warm and damp. “Just a few sips, baby. Please.”