Chapter One

IAN CARMICHAEL

I waited, counting the seconds it would take for me to lose patience over watching my mother fake enthusiasm at a story that was not in the least interesting. Unless she had suddenly developed interest in watching old men play golf.

My mother was not usually the ass kissing kind. There were only a handful of people she reserved that privilege for. And the new minister of mining and energy, Nathaniel Falcon was one of them.

I could not fault her for it. She was doing what every good business man would do. Make connections with the right people.

I should be trying to insert myself in the conversation. After all, she had wanted to introduce me to him. But I was in no mood to entertain an old man. I was rarely ever in a mood to entertain anyone.

Yet here I was, at the birthday party, hosted by my mother's politician brother in law.

“Perhaps you should join us in one of our games. I’m sure you'll have a good time”, Mr. Falcon suggested.

“That sounds like a great idea. Or better still, why don't we host a family game?” She asked with a beautiful fake smile plastered on her face.

Mr. Falcon’s smile almost started to slip at the suggestion.

The sleazy old man.

“It would be a lot of fun. You see, these days, everyone is always too busy to spend time with family. I think this will be a good way to do that and also get to know each other more”, she explained with a bright smile.

Get to know each other more, my foot. She knew very well how much those kinds of meetings annoy the shit out of me. Yet she always dragged me to them, saying I needed to make connections.

She was right.

“Right, Ian?” She looked up at me.

“That sounds like a good idea”, I replied mechanically.

“Oh well, it doesn't sound bad”. Mr. Falcon chuckled, the spark of excitement at spending time with my mother back on his face.

The recently divorced man probably thought he had found a beautiful woman with power and connections, who was interested in him. Any smart man would know that Alicia Carmichael only ever used people either for what they can offer her, or for amusement. But Mr. Falcon wasn't one.

“Don't mind Ian here. He has always been like this. I’m still trying to bring him out so he can socialise more”, she said, gently touching my arm.

“Youngsters these days. They're all like that”. Mr. Falcon looked at me with a click of his tongue, and Mum chuckled.

As much as I did not like ‘socializing’ with people I would not normally talk to, I usually bore with it. My position required it.

But sometimes, it can get… exhausting. Which was why I was cranky and losing patience more than usual.

“You should listen to your mother, son. That attitude will get you nowhere”, Mr. Falcon rendered his unsolicited advice.

“I will try to do better, sir”, I forced a small smile.

“That's more like it. Waiter!” He waved his hand.

The smile on Mum's face fell when Christian appeared with a tray, dressed in a waiter’s uniform and wearing a polite smile.

She glared at him. And when Mr. Falcon was not watching, he gave her a wink.

The idiot was probably enjoying every bit of his act of rebellion.

I didn't think I had ever heard of anyone playing waiter on his father's birthday. He was doing it just to piss his father off. And with the way I noticed how Sebastian Mayor would glance at his son with a hard look once in a while, it was working.

“Thank you”, Mum smiled, taking the glass of wine from Mr. Falcon.

I gave him a ‘fuck off’ look when he glanced at me. The punk only smirked, before walking away.

Sebastian Mayor had always hidden away his family for the sake of privacy. But at this point, he was hiding Christian to save himself from public embarrassment by his son.

Not like it ever stopped Christian from trying. There was a chance that a close friend or relative might tell a guest that Sebastian Mayor’s son was a waiter.

Mum was still talking to Mr. Falcon, and I was beginning to tune them out. Which meant it was time for me to leave.

“Excuse me, please”, I said, before walking away from them, without waiting for a response.

I resisted the urge to grab my tie and tug at it. I hated ties. But Mum had seen me without one, and she wanted to help me put it on. I couldn't refuse.

Sitting at one of the bar stools, I grabbed a bottle of non alcoholic wine, and poured myself a glass.

The main part of the party had been over a long time ago. People were chatting with each other, making connections, or just catching up with acquaintances.

I couldn't wait to leave. I needed good sleep. It had been a while since I last slept well.

“Ian?” I looked up when I heard a soft, familiar voice call my name. Jasmine.

She smiled, before walking towards where I was sitting.

I realised I had barely seen or spoken to her since the party began. Probably because she had been glued to her mother.

“You look gorgeous”, I said, observing how well the dress suited her, and how prettier her hazel eyes looked.

“Thanks”, Jasmine replied sweetly.

“You don't look bad yourself”, Jasmine said, taking a seat.

“It seems like your mother finally let you get away from her side”, I said.

“Yeah”, she sighed tiredly. “I can say the same for you. Are you alright? You look tense”, Jasmine asked, looking concerned.

“I’m just a bit stressed. Nothing a good sleep won't solve”, I said.

Jasmine looked like she wanted to say something, but she held back, sighing.

“I’ll just sit here with you and keep you company. Is that okay?” Jasmine asked.

“Sure”, I agreed, pouring her a drink.

“Thanks”.

I nodded.

And then she did not say anything else. Jasmine was one of the few people whose company I didn't mind. I didn't know how she managed to go from the girl whom I just tolerated, to someone who mattered.

It took her years, but she managed to worm herself into my life.

“What the hell is Christian thinking?” Jasmine asked, watching him with a bewildered look.

“I don't know. But he does seem to be enjoying his job”, I replied dryly. There was a self satisfied smile on his face.

“He just loves seeking attention, doesn't he?” Jasmine seemed to ask herself, still watching him.

I wouldn't call Christian’s antics just seeking attention. On the surface it seemed like he just enjoyed annoying his father. But in reality, it was his own way of coping. Of not letting himself turn back to the darkness again.

“I need to go to the restroom”, Jasmine said, and I nodded at her.

After she excused herself, I caught Christian from the corner of my eye, being dragged by someone behind the wall. From the tip of the dress, I could tell it was Mum.

She was going to give him a lecture. He would apologize to her, but nothing would change. Same old cycle.

“You fucking idiot!”

I turned to the direction of the yell. Unsurprisingly, it was my aunt causing a scene at a party. Again.

Sighing, I left the bar and stalked towards the area where people were already turning to. Everyone's attention was on her.

“Do you know how much this dress cost?!” Stella Carmichael bellowed, her face twisted in rage.

Her blue sleeve was stained with black liquid. There was a half empty wine glass in her hand.

I'd bet a million dollars that she spilled the wine on herself.

There was a waitress holding a tray in front of her, staring back with a hurt expression. I could tell she was shaken, from the way the tray seemed to tremble in her grip.

The girl looked very young, and… small. A single tear ran down her eye, her lips pursed tightly.

“Are you just going to stand there? Apologize you dumb piece of shit!” She yelled, going for her. She nearly stumbled on her feet, probably drunk.

I could not fathom why they kept inviting her to parties. She belonged in an asylum.

“That's enough!” I grabbed her arm, before she could hit her. If she hadn't already.

“Let me go! What kind of people do you all hire these days? I have to teach her a lesson!”

“Leave”, I told the girl gently.

She did not waste a second, before turning around. Her steps were quick as she hurried away.

“Fire her! People like her should not be allowed to work here! She didn't even apologize. Who the hell does she think she is?!”

My ever loving aunt struggled in my arms. I tightened my grip on her, resisting the urge to let her go just so she would fall on her face.

My eyes met with the celebrant. He gave me an exhausted look.

I didn't think the man would be hosting another birthday party in the next few years.

I beckoned the security man standing at a corner.

And then I leaned into her ear.

“Stop causing a scene and leave quietly or get dragged out of here like a criminal. Your choice”. I threatened.

Her stillness told me she understood perfectly.

The last time she was dragged out of a party kicking and screaming, she made the headlines.

“Escort Miss Carmichael outside”, I said dryly, letting her go.

She stumbled forward, towards the security man. Probably because I gave her a slight nudge.

Once she had left quietly, I turned to the guests.

“Sorry for the inconvenience”, I said, not sounding one bit apologetic.

I was walking back to the bar when Christian approached me.

“What happened?” He asked, looking around the hall of people whispering among themselves.

“It's my aunt again”, I said.

“Who's the victim this time?” He asked with a smirk, probably happy that someone had disrupted his father's party.

“Some waitress”, I said, thinking back to the girl.

Christian blinked at me, his smirk slowly slipping off.

“What did she look like?”

“Small, dark haired girl. She didn't look like she was past sixteen”, I described, thinking about her frail form. “Why?” I tilted my head.

A look of dread crossed his expression.

“Shit”, Christian swore, before taking off in a hurry.

What was that about?

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