Page 118 of The Compass Series

Honestly, out of the ex-wives of Kevin, Rosalina was my favorite.

She was kindhearted at times but came with a world of personal trauma that made her act out in intense ways.

When she was levelheaded, though, she was so gentle.

If I had to choose a favorite stepmother out of the bunch, Rosalina would’ve been it.

But that wasn’t saying much, truly. The best of three evils.

“That was our first date,” Rosalina said. “The New York Theater.”

“He also left you his season tickets to the ballet, paid off for ten years,” Joe informed her.

“I also got his jewelry.” Rosalina giggled with glee. With a wicked smile, she looked in Denise’s direction. “I suppose this means I was loved more than you.” She then looked toward Catherine. “What did he leave you?”

“Hopefully more than you both. He did, after all, marry me twice,” she remarked.

“Divorced you twice, too,” Denise shot back. “A double loser, if you ask me. Just like how you lost Miss America twice.”

“Screw you, Denise,” Catherine snapped.

“Ladies, ladies. Let’s not get too carried away with comparing. He wrote them as letters to each of you for the simple fact that he didn’t want to have it be a public affair,” Joe stated.

“Speaking of affairs, why does Catherine even get anything? Seeing how she’s the one who ended my marriage,” Denise scolded.

“Oh, please. He was over you before he even married you. It was a given at his holiday party that you were on your way out. You can’t blame me for moving right on in,” Catherine sneered.

“This can’t be real life,” Damian muttered to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as the women all broke out into an argument about who Kevin loved the most. The room was filled with shouting women searching for validation they would never truly get because Kevin was gone.

He’s still gone.

“Will you all just shut the fuck up and let Joe finish reading whatever the fuck it is he needs to read?!” Damian boomed, his voice filling the room and making all the screaming voices come to a sudden halt. Goose bumps prickled against my skin as his deep voice rocketed.

He smoothed out his suit, and Denise’s eyes fell to him.

“No, really, who the hell are you?” She turned to Joe.

“And if he was going to simply give us letters, why bring us all here tonight? This could’ve been an email.

Christ. I hate when people hold physical meetings over subjects that could’ve been sent as an email. ”

I couldn’t disagree with Denise on that. We disagreed about pretty much everything else in the world, except for our hatred of unnecessary meetings taking place.

I held my letter in my hands. I couldn’t find the strength to open it yet. I wasn’t ready to read his final words to me. It felt a little too much like goodbye.

“For this part.” Joe started unrolling a piece of paper.

“These were Kevin’s last wishes, written in his own words, and he asked me to read them to you.

” He cleared his throat and began reading words that changed everything.

“If you all are hearing this, then I am on the other side of forever, and I hope none of you meet me here for a long time. I am bringing you all here to carry out my final wishes. To all my ex-wives, hi. How are you? You look great. Have you lost weight?”

The women giggled as if he was truly complimenting them.

Joe continued. “As you all know, I am a firm believer in marriage—so much that I did it four times over. Each one of you gave me something different. Rosalina, you gifted me with your sense of wonderment and adventure. Catherine, your stubborn yet strong personality, and Denise, you gifted me a head of gray hairs.”

I snickered to myself as Denise rolled her eyes, and Joe resumed.

“With all three of you combined, one could say I had the perfect marriage. Which is what I wish for both Damian and Stella.”

“What does that mean?” Damian grumbled.

Joe held up a finger to silence the room. “My final wish is to leave Damian and Stella with the remainder of my wealth, including my stock shares, my bonds, my estate, and over five hundred million dollars that will be split down the middle between you both.”

The ex-wives broke out into a fit over the idea, and I felt as if I was trying to swallow the biggest lump in my throat.

He left all of his belongings to me?

And Damian Blackstone?

But why?

“That’s not all,” Joe said, raising his voice to try to recollect the power of the room.

“In order for this to happen, it is of the utmost importance that Damian and Stella wed for six months’ time.

Within those six months, the two must live within the same household, spending at least five days out of the week under the same roof.

They cannot go more than forty-eight hours outside of the home together.

No loopholes. This arrangement will start no later than a week from today. ”

“There’s no way in hell,” Damian and I said in unison. What was with us speaking the same words at the same time?

“This isn’t fair!” Denise whined. “Why do they get the good stuff?”

“Denise, hush,” Grams said.

“What? It’s true. No offense, we don’t even know who this man is, and for some reason, we are supposed to think he deserves a cent of Kevin’s belongings? He has the least amount of rights to that money.”

“She’s right,” Catherine chimed in. “He has no right to a cent of that money.”

“As it turns out, Damian is Kevin’s son. Therefore, he does have a right to the money,” Joe added.

The women’s eyes fell on Damian, and the shock that hit them all was the same shock that hit me earlier that day when the realization set in.

He blankly stared and nodded toward them all. “Hello, stepmothers.”

“Whose kid is he?” Denise asked, looking around at the others.

“Don’t look at me,” Catherine remarked. “Does this body look like it bore a child?”

“Honey, a good California surgeon could work miracles on anyone. Just ask Rosalina and her nose,” Denise slyly remarked.

“I know you’re not talking, Ms. Booty from Dr. Kent,” Rosalina shot back. “Turns out, hips can lie.”

It was like watching a live-action viewing of The Real Ex-Housewives of Los Angeles .

“How old are you?” Rosalina asked Damian.

“Twenty-one.”

He was seven years younger than me. Though, he acted much older than his age. I would’ve assumed by personality alone that he was ninety-four years old.

Joe cleared his throat. “None of this matters, ladies. All that matters is, if Damian and Stella keep the deal, they get all the income. Along with one of the ex-wives receiving twenty million dollars based on who Damian and Stella decide is worthy of the gift.”

“Prize money?” Rosalina asked, sitting up straighter. “For the best wife?”

“Yes.” Joe pointed at the paper. “It says right here. Each wife should spend one evening with Damian within the six months’ time and showcase why they should receive the money.

Since you all already spent time with Stella at a young age, Kevin believes it’s important for you to get to know Damian on his own. ”

“This is insane,” I muttered.

“Which is why I’m not taking part in any of this,” Damian stated, turning to Joe. “No offense, Joe, but you can tell dead Kevin to shove his money up his ass. I don’t want it. That’s not why I came here.”

“What happens if Damian doesn’t want the money?” Denise eagerly asked. “If they refuse the deal or break the rules?”

“Well, it will be split between the three ex-wives,” Joe explained.

I swore their eyes lit up as if it were Christmas morning. “I think that’s for the best,” Rosalina mentioned.

“Go ahead,” Damian said. “Take it.”

He turned and walked out of the room, allowing the door to slam behind him.

“That’s the right thing to do.” Catherine smiled, feeling pleased. “We all deserve it after having to raise that kid of his. I deserve it the most, seeing how I raised her the longest.”

She spoke about me as if I wasn’t right here.

“All you care about is the money?” I asked, feeling as if my mind was in a washing machine and my thoughts were being forced to spin round and round at such an uneven pace. I couldn’t even piece together everything being said, let alone the idea that Kevin wanted me to wed Damian.

Why would he do that?

Knowing for a fact that I was in a long-term relationship, too.

“It doesn’t matter what we care about,” Denise said. “It matters that these were Kevin’s final wishes. And do you really want to go against them? He wanted the money to come to me.”

“Us,” Rosalina corrected.

I felt nauseous.

Grams turned to me and smiled. “You don’t owe this world a thing, sweetheart. Not even Kevin.”

The comfort she gave was kind, but I didn’t believe her words. In a way, I owed Kevin everything. He gave me a world when I had nothing left. I didn’t understand why he did it, but I knew he had to have a good enough reason.

“He wanted this, Grams,” I whispered in a shaky voice.

“Yes,” she agreed. “But what do you want?”

To make him proud.

Without much thought, I raced out of the office to find Damian with his hand on the front door of the home, ready to leave.

“Damian, wait!”

“Why? There’s nothing left for me here.”

“Yes, there is. The will?—”

“Is complete trash. I should’ve known better than to uproot my life and move to this fucking state all because of a random letter from a man who didn’t give a damn about me. I’m leaving.”

“No, you can’t,” I said, inserting myself between him and the door.

“Christ, not this again, lady,” he muttered.

“Stella.”

“I—”

“Don’t care. Yes, I know, but we should at least talk about this. Kevin wouldn’t just do this without a reason. There has to be a deeper meaning to his actions.”

“What does ‘I don’t care’ mean to you? Because I truly don’t give a shit about a deeper meaning.”

“Well, I do.”

“I know, and I get it. You’re some modern-day Cinderella who is trying to go from rags to riches, but I don’t really give a damn about any of that.”

“What? No. I don’t care about the money. I’m no Cinderella.”

“Aren’t you currently on the property of a man you viewed as a father figure with a collection of seemingly evil-wannabe stepmothers?”

“I, well, yes, but?—”

“Cinderstella.”

A mixture of Cinderella and Stella.

Welp, I hated this guy. I also hated how clever the name had been.

“That’s not clever,” I lied.

“I don’t care, Cinderstella. Just move.”

I crossed my arms. “No. Not until we talk.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Move, or I’ll relocate you.”

“I’m two hundred and twenty-some pounds. I doubt you could move me.”

“I bench press double your weight in my sleep. Trust me, you don’t want to test your theory. Now, move before I really get pissed, Cinderstella.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Stop being that, then.”

“Well, you’re just, you’re, you’re the freaking Beast from Beauty and the Beast ! Before he transformed into a hot guy! You’re just a hairy, ugly, grumpy Beast!”

He took a step toward me and arched a cocky eyebrow. “You think I’m ugly, Cinderstella?”

“Yes,” I confidently stated. On the inside at least. Which made his outside appearance that much more hideous. Oh, Stella, the lies we tell ourselves. Damian Blackstone was easily one of the most attractive men I’d ever crossed paths with. Which made it that much more annoying.

“Good. I’d rather not have your eyes on me.”

I tilted my head up to the ceiling to avoid staring his way. “Trust me, that’s freaking easy!”

“Good.”

“Extra good!” I combated, feeling a pool of nerves and rage intermixing within my gut.

“Damian, please, a moment,” Joe said, breaking up Damian’s and my interaction.

With a sigh, he walked over to Joe. The two exchanged words with one another in low voices. I wished I was a few inches closer so I could hear what they were saying, but alas.

When they finished talking, Damian pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

Within a few seconds, he was standing back in front of me. He reached into the pocket of his suit blazer and pulled out a laminated piece of paper. A business card. He placed it in the palm of my hand. “Here’s my card. Call me if you agree to do this fucked-up arrangement.”

“But seconds ago, you said?—”

“I know what I said,” he yipped, sending a wave of chills down my spine. “I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

“Because I did.”

I didn’t say a word, but my hand grasped the card. I stepped to the side of the door, allowing Damian the freedom to exit if he’d wished to do so. He took the opportunity and walked outside.

“Stop staring at my ugly ass,” he shot out without looking over his shoulder.

“I’m not!” I hollered back, feeling my cheeks flush.

Okay, maybe I was staring a little bit, but it wasn’t my fault. He shouldn’t have worn a custom-tailored suit that showed off his ugly Beast butt.

It was almost comical that I called him ugly because not an ounce of hideousness lived across Damian’s body.

He was attractive in an old Hollywood kind of way.

He had his grumpy smolder look locked in, ridiculously addictive blue eyes that reminded me of the stormiest of oceans, and he easily lifted semi-trucks during his free time based on his physique.

Sure, his exterior design was what dreams were made of. Yet what did that matter when his interior was so dark and cold?

Oftentimes, men lost their attractiveness once they opened their mouths and spoke, and Damian was the hottest ugly man I’d ever crossed paths with.

I felt as if my world was spinning round and round at a speed I couldn’t comprehend. That was when Grams showed up and lay a hand against my shoulder.

“Slow it down,” she said in her gentle voice. “You’re disconnecting from yourself, from your inner self. Time to ground.”

“I can’t right now, Grams. Did you hear what just happened?

His will? His final wishes? Kevin couldn’t possibly want me to marry a man like Damian!

There’s so much that just doesn’t add up.

And if that was what he wanted, then why?

And how long had he known he had a son? And oh my goodness, can you imagine how hard it would be for Damian to find out Kevin raised another?

I can’t even imagine. Plus, the angle with the ex-wives and?—”

“Stella Rose Mitchell.” Grams used her authoritative voice. “Go ground yourself right now.”

I knew what she meant. Whenever I felt overwhelmed as a child, Grams sent me to the water. I’d wash away my anxiety while reconnecting with the earth, with myself. It was a habit I’d held on to since childhood, but it felt a bit ridiculous to do it right then and there.

“I don’t have time for that right now,” I explained.

Grams shook her head, a few of her silver locks falling from her high bun. “If you don’t have time for yourself, then you don’t have time for anything. Now go, child.” She took my hands in hers and squeezed them lightly. “Go find your peace. The world will still be here when you return.”