Chapter Twenty-Nine

Odette

“Y ou’ve got this, Babydoll,” Aiden comforted while running his hand up and down my back. “We’ll be with you the entire time.”

Charles had been dead for two weeks, and I’d finally mustered up the courage to cut ties with his business partners—my business partners. I started talking to a therapist at Aiden’s (and surprisingly Dominic’s) request. I’d only had three appointments thus far, but she was easy to talk to, even about the uncomfortable situations. It was hard for me to open up, so we’d truthfully only scraped the surface of my plethora of issues.

Still, she greatly supported my decision to pull the trigger and finally schedule this meeting. She even recommended I bring a support person, so I brought Dominic, who’d never let anything bad happen to me. Niko, who’d been a massive help in understanding the financial side of the businesses. He was my unofficial numbers guy. Aiden, who would tear any of those disgusting men to shreds with his eyes alone if they tried to retaliate or argue. And, of course, Wyatt, who was calm and collected when I couldn’t be.

The elevator was eerily quiet as we rode up it. This was one of the buildings I owned—a crazy thought. It was used as a corporate office for one of my investment firms. It was only an hour from our house, which was incredibly convenient considering the businesses and their respective buildings were spread across the United States and a select few overseas.

With this being my first visit to one of my companies, I knew there’d likely be others who wanted my attention after the meeting. So, I looked the part. I wore black slacks, a black tucked-in body suit, pointed black heels, and a tan coat. If there was one thing I knew how to do right off the bat with this job—it was how to dress.

After Tony released the statements and truths about Charles, not a single person attended his funeral. Actually, a few journalists attended, only to capture the emptiness of the church where the ‘celebration of life’ was held. When it went live, I’d skimmed the story cleverly titled ‘The Real Charles Whitlock.’ After feeling a sense of déjà vu and nausea, I stopped reading. I was mentioned a lot, specifically how mentally abusive he’d been throughout my childhood. More recently, there was even a blurry photo of me lying on the floor of his office after he beat me.

My face was visible, surrounded by my messy hair. The cuts and bruises on my legs and face were fresh and bloody. It was an awful photo, and seeing it hurt my chest.

Tony had quickly snapped the photo for evidence before Vincent got to me and showed it to the cops that night. He was wise to include it in the article; it was the proof many people needed after thinking Charles was a saint for his whole career. It was awful but necessary.

Next to the photo of me was a statement from both Tony and the butler, Lawrence. They’d both said almost the same thing. Upon leaving me unconscious in his office, Charles had made a statement that was too disgustingly unrepeatable to include in the article.

...I didn’t want to know, and I was glad I was knocked out whenever he said what he did.

The article didn’t even mention the worst of what Charles had put me through, nor would any article. The only people who knew were my guys, the business partners, my therapist, and Charles, who took it to his grave. I didn’t want anyone to feel pity for me, let alone know what he allowed those men to do to me. That was my business, and I was finally dealing with it.

The best part of the article, besides society knowing the truth about my father, was that no one had offered me their condolences for him. I wasn’t sad he was dead, and everyone knew it.

The elevator opened, and I took a calming breath before stepping out with my guys trailing behind me.

The space was massive, with glass walls on either side and offices behind them where employees were taking calls, going through paperwork, or typing away at a computer. Dead ahead was a reception desk with a young woman with dark skin and curly brown hair behind it. Leaning against her desk, flirting up a storm, was none other than Vincent—who’d been invited by me.

The woman seemed amused by his antics, giggling and playing along while rolling her eyes. She was beautiful... he didn’t stand a chance.

The elevator’s ding turned her attention to us, and she shooed Vincent away from her desk. Her warm smile disappeared quickly as she looked like a deer in headlights. “Hi, welcome to—Miss Whitlock,” she stumbled over her words as we approached her desk. She stood from her chair, touching her skirt as she straightened out the nonexistent wrinkles. “My apologies, we didn’t know you were coming today. Just a moment while I get Mister Smith; I’m sure he wants to know that you’re here,” she rambled before reaching for the phone.

From the plaque on the wall downstairs in the lobby, I knew Smith was the CEO responsible for this business line.

I smiled and gently shook my head, hoping to calm her nerves. “That’s okay; I’m actually here to meet with a few business partners. Rita Thumborn’s assistant scheduled it on my behalf,” I explained.

She put the phone down and lifted her brows. “She didn’t mention it was for you,” she breathed out. From how tidy her desk was and the detailed notes on her calendar, she wasn’t a fan of being caught off guard like this. My name was probably intimidating, but I sure wasn’t. Honestly, I was more nervous than her.

“She’s here for the same meeting I am,” Vincent smiled at her.

“Is everyone else here?” I asked.

She confidently nodded once. “Yes, ma’am, Vincent was the last to arrive,” she glanced down at the checklist of names on her iPad.

“I didn’t feel like sitting in a conference room breathing the same air as those fuckers,” Vincent smiled sarcastically despite the bite in his tone. He lifted his brows at my guys behind me and chuckled. “Brought the big guns, I see. Smart move, Kid.”

“We’re just here for moral support,” Wyatt assured.

“That’s too bad. I was hoping Dom would hit at least one of them—”

“Violence isn’t condoned in the office... Vincent,” the woman cocked her eyebrow at him disapprovingly.

I like her. I looked at her nameplate, which read Vanessa Hastings. “That was a joke,” I rushed out with my hands up. “No one’s getting hit,” I promised.

Vanessa grabbed a folder off her desk and held it out to me. “Rita sent these over to have printed in preparation for the meeting. I’m assuming they’re yours?” She asked.

They were the termination of partnership documents for each man waiting for me in the conference room. “Yes, thank you,” I took the folder, feeling another wave of anxiety wash over me.

“I can take you back now,” Vanessa gestured to one of the big glass doors as she led the way. “I know you’re here for other reasons, but I have to tell my boss and Mister Smith that you’re here. I’m sure they’ll want to meet with you,” she explained as I walked alongside her, the guys behind us. “How much time do you have after your meeting? I’ll make sure we won’t keep you long,” she guaranteed.

She sounded slightly worried that she was inconveniencing me. More than that, I had a sneaking suspicion she would get reprimanded if she didn’t mention I was here to her boss. “No worries; I have lots of time. Sorry it wasn’t clear that I’d be here today; I think Rita’s assistant forgot to put my name on the guest list,” I said with a comforting smile.

Vanessa’s shoulders dropped slightly as she took a breath. “Don’t apologize, Miss Whitlock. You definitely don’t need to let us know when you’re visiting,” she said. She glanced around the busy room of eyes that followed us before lowering her tone. “Between you and me... the boss likes to have a heads-up to ensure everything is ship-shape,” she added.

Surveying the room, I saw nothing but employees buried in their work. None had decorations, photos, or even plants at their desks. No one was casually chatting with their coworkers; the only voices were the mumbled ramblings of phone conversations. “Is this not ship-shape?” I asked. They all even had the same black ballpoint pen. There was no color in the room.

Vanessa shrugged in response, clearly not wanting to say too much for fear of retaliation.

As we walked past the dozens of cubicles, I continued to let my eyes wander the depressing office. A woman with heavy bags under her eyes and a baby in her arms caught my attention. She was typing with one hand and cradling with her other arm, silently rocking back and forth as the baby slept.

It wasn’t uncommon in today’s day and age to bring your kid to work when needed. But this baby was small. Like freshly out of the oven small, and the woman looked exhausted.

“Hi,” I whispered to her, stopping at her desk and halting our group. I didn’t know what impulse took over me, but I knew with every fiber of my being that something wasn’t right. “Your son is cute,” I smiled. “How old is he?” I pried gently.

The woman’s eyes rounded momentarily at the sight of me before she answered. “He’ll be four weeks on Friday,” she replied quietly.

What were either of them doing here? I nodded once before turning to Vanessa. “How long is paid maternity leave?” I asked hushedly, trying not to draw attention to ourselves or the mother.

Vanessa pressed her lips together. “The state protects your job security for ten weeks. The company allows three weeks of PFMLA,” she answered.

I looked over my other shoulder to Wyatt, who knew at least a little more than me, given his dozens of nieces and nephews. “Wyatt,” I whispered. “I don’t know a lot about babies. Is that normal?”

He shook his head. “The university offers 12 weeks of PFMLA for paternity and 14 weeks for maternity,” he advised.

Yeah... fuck this.

I crouched next to the woman’s desk and smiled. “Go home.”

Her words caught in her throat. “I-I can’t. I can’t afford to—”

“You’ll be paid. I’ll have HR send you updated benefits information by the end of the week,” I explained.

A thick silence fell over her as her eyes wandered my face. She blinked a few times, her eyes glossed before she nodded. “Thank you,” her voice shook with gratitude. “I’ll have to tell my boss—”

“I’ll talk to your boss,” I smiled. “You just go home,” I chuckled. The only thing she should be concerned with is taking care of herself and her three-week-old infant.

“I’ll send him in with the others after your meeting,” Vanessa cut in, taking notes on her iPad.

I stood up and started walking to the conference room again. Niko and Aiden gave me a soft, proud nod, and I smiled.

“Can you also get me the HR representative responsible for your benefits?” I requested. “And a copy of the employee handbook, if it’s not too much trouble?”

Vanessa grinned and chuckled once. “It’s not any trouble at all. Whatever you need, just let me know!” She enthused.

Things were twisted around here, and if I were the owner, I wouldn’t stand for that. Considering the company’s weekly profit, three measly weeks of paid leave after having a baby was disrespectful at best. Charles had clearly signed off on the cheapest legal option he could to make himself a few extra dollars. That was changing today.

Vanessa opened the glass door to the large conference room where a dozen men in black suits sat at a large table. I was a bit evil-ish and asked Rita not to advise them on what the meeting was for. It was Aiden’s idea—he had a hunch that they wouldn’t show up or send a representative in their place if they knew what was coming. I wasn’t going to give them that courtesy.

Also, seeing as Rita’s assistant left my name off the invite list, none of them knew I was the one who requested the meeting in the first place. This was just an extra gift to my ego before I ruined their day (and probably the next several years as their profits plummet).

Seeing the apprehensive looks and sudden fidgeting legs under the table, I knew they knew exactly why I was there. “Miss Whitlock, do you need me to stay and take notes?” Vanessa asked in a hushed tone, sensing the tension in the room.

“No, this’ll be quick,” I smiled as she left the room and closed the door behind her.

“Oh shit,” I heard one of the men mumble to himself as he closed his eyes, a deep look of regret on his face.

I stood at the head of the table with no intention of sitting down. Vincent took a seat to my left, leaning back in his chair—looking ready for the best show of his life as he smirked cruelly at the men. I should’ve gotten him popcorn with how giddy he seemed. My guys were standing behind me, near the back wall, probably shooting daggers at the men.

Keeping my tone confident and my gaze firm, I addressed the room. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know why they’re here?” I asked while scanning the room.

Five men around Vincent’s age hesitated before raising their hands, seeming confused at the tension in the room radiating from the older men. It was obvious that they were innocent and had no part in what happened to me as a kid. They were newer partners who had no business being terminated.

“You can go,” I gestured to the door.

One of the younger men sat back in his chair, holding it down. “I’d prefer to stay. What is this meeting for?” He asked.

I glanced down at the folder before addressing him again. “This folder is full of termination of partnership forms that’ll be handed out and signed by everyone in this room. Do you still want to stay?”

He and the others were quick to stand. “No, I don’t think my attendance is necessary today,” he joked. He reached out to shake my hand. “I’m sure we’ll meet again under different circumstances,” he said before being the first out of the room. The others said a quick ‘I look forward to working with you’ and ‘glad to meet you’ before they left.

The remaining men didn’t even try to plead innocence as they sat in shame. They had to go home to their wives and children and lie about why they’d lost their most profitable partner today. Whitlock Enterprises was the cash cow, and they all knew it.

“Is there any deal or negotiation you’d accept to keep... even a fraction of our partnership?” One of the men proposed, his lips tight as if ashamed to ask.

Narrowing my eyes on him, I felt my stomach twist with disgust. The same waves of confidence I felt when I went into Charles’ office to threaten him settled in my throat.

“Yes,” I answered in a dull tone. Someone, probably Aiden, shifted behind me at my surprising response. “I want you to write out a statement outlining what you did. Every detail. Every instance. And what Charles offered you in return,” I spat. “Then take it to the police.”

I’d thought about it several times, and them pleading guilty was the only way to truly turn them in. I had no proof other than my memories, which were still fuzzy.

Vincent looked confused as he watched me but didn’t question it. He got the jist.

The man started to shake his head, made eye contact with me, then fully committed to saying no. “I’ll take the paperwork,” he gestured to the folder quietly.

Shocker. “The same goes for the rest of you,” I offered, taking out the papers and plopping them in the middle of the table for them to grab and sign.

Like kids reaching into a bowl of candy, the paperwork was snatched up by all—except one. He was much older than the rest, in his seventies. “What percentage of the partnership would remain?” he asked, not looking up from the table.

My heart pounded in my chest as shock flooded my nerves. I didn’t think anyone would even consider taking the deal. It was prison time—a lot of it. More than that, his admittance would be on his permanent record for anyone to see. If he turned himself in at his age, he wouldn’t come back out.

“What’s your name?” Niko stepped forward.

“Richard Howard,” the man answered, still not looking up.

“You own H he’ll do better than I did. I’ll have my assistant send you his information so he can manage the relationship in the future,” he said.

I didn’t pity him in the slightest, but I was surprised that he was doing the right thing for his family. His regret was evident, and by the end of the week, his family would think much differently of him. It wasn’t an easy choice that I presented them with.

He stood on his elderly legs and nodded once to the room, trying to leave with some dignity. “Excuse me. I’m going to spend some time with my family,” he announced. On his way out, he stopped next to me, stepping back as his eyes locked on someone behind me. “I am truly sorry,” he whispered. “My son... don’t hold him responsible for my poor decisions. He’s not like me. Hopefully, more than ten percent can be earned back if you give him a chance,” he relented.

I said nothing in response as he fled the room. I wouldn’t hold a grudge against his son. Some of us just have bad fathers—what we make of ourselves determines our character, not where we come from.

Just as I suspected, the meeting was over quickly. The signed documents were left on the table as the men left the room for the final time. I wouldn’t hear from them or have to see them again. It was done.

“You... are kind of a badass, Kid,” Vincent nodded approvingly as he stood from his chair.

I turned to my guys. “Is it over? I blacked out,” I breathed out.

Dominic wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “You handled that perfectly,” he praised. “Not many people can stand in front of all their monsters and scare them away like that.”

I learned from the best.

“You made so many of them cry,” Aiden smirked, basking in their downfall like I knew he would.

“Most of their companies won’t survive the separation,” Niko advised. “You didn’t even need Dominic to pummel them,” he chuckled.

“That went well; admittedly better than I expected,” Wyatt joined in. “We’re so proud of you, you know that, right?” He complimented with glimmering green eyes and a bright smile to match it.

An overwhelming sense of accomplishment filled me as a weight lifted off my chest. I was still a mental wreck, but I never had to see those men again. I did that. They were proud of me, but I was overjoyed with myself. I thought I’d freeze up standing before them, but I didn’t. I was confident and poised, and I got rid of them for good. “I know,” I smiled.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vanessa approaching with a small group of people trailing her. I shrugged my coat off my shoulders and placed it over the back of a chair, planning on staying a while. I wanted to read the employee handbook and see what else needed adjusting, starting with the benefit packages and the blandness of everyone’s space. The morale must have been low.

“I’m going to hang around for a bit,” I said. “I’ll see you back at home?” We took separate cars just in case I ended up wanting to stay, and Niko mentioned wanting to meet his parents for lunch since he was in the city. There was no reason for them to linger around anymore.

“Are you sure?” Aiden asked. “I don’t mind waiting for you,” he assured.

Nodding, I bounced on my heels. “I’ll only be an hour or two. You should go with Niko and have lunch with Isabella and Mateo,” I suggested.

“They’d love that,” Niko chuckled. “Wyatt, Dom, Vincent, you in?” He invited.

“Raincheck. There’s a library a few miles away, and I want to grab a few books to add to my curriculum next semester,” Wyatt explained.

“There’s a mall nearby that sells scrubs and other medical supplies. I figure I should grab a few things,” Dominic announced his own plans.

Vincent shrugged. “Well, I’m in!” He chimed.

I smiled, happy that the drive down was productive for everyone. “Just be prepared for a fashion show when you get back,” I teased Dominic.

He squinted his eyes. “Mmm, no,” he dismissed playfully.

The door opened, and I raised my eyebrows at my guys. “See you in a bit,” I whispered, glancing at the door. They were intimidating men, and I didn’t want to scare anyone off with them being here.

Getting the hint, they smiled before heading to the door. “Text me when you’re done and on your way home, okay?” Wyatt shot me a look.

I nodded. Duh.

Hidden from everyone’s eyes, Wyatt gave me a slight tap on my ass as they passed.

“Miss Whitlock, it’s nice to meet you finally,” a man said, reaching out to shake my hand. “I’m Phineas Smith, CEO,” he introduced himself.

I shook his hand. “You can call me Odette,” I smiled while addressing the group. Despite how lovely it looked on paper, I never was a fan of the last name Whitlock.

“Excuse me?” I gently knocked on the open door of the head of HR’s office, holding the employee handbook and a few other documents. I’d spent the past few hours sitting alone in the conference room reading over everything, highlighting and making notes of outdated, demeaning policies I wanted updated.

He looked up from his desk and straightened. “Ah, finished already?” He smiled. “Hopefully, everything’s up to your standards.”

I stepped into his office, trying not to cringe. “Actually, there were a lot of concerning rules outlined. No personal decorations or belongings in the workplace?” I gave one of the many examples. “I don’t mean to come in and change the standards, but I highlighted several things that I’d like to work on updating,” I voiced.

Caught off guard by my response, he gestured to the chair before him. “May I see your notes?” He asked.

I nodded while taking a seat and pointing out a few more over-the-top rules. “Like here; women must wear a minimum of a three-inch heel to upkeep professional appearance...” I read aloud. “Or the limited and timed restroom breaks,” I shook my head.

He took a few minutes reading over all my notes, his face looking increasingly disappointed in their policies as he read. “I’ve worked here for so long, I guess I never questioned how... bad some of these policies are,” he breathed out. “We can implement these changes, of course, but it won’t happen overnight .”

“I didn’t expect it to,” I agreed. “Please keep me posted on the updates as they’re applied to the new workplace standards,” I smiled before standing to leave.

“Yes, of course. Thank you for bringing this to our attention,” he stood, shaking my hand once more before I left.

I texted Wyatt that I was headed home and began my drive. I felt a sense of pride and accomplishment at what I’d discovered and made plans to change on my first day.

For the first time, I felt confident that I could take on the responsibility of owning these companies. Rita said all I had to do was show face and attend a few events—I wanted to do more than that. If this one branch of a financial company was so bad, I knew the rest needed the same TLC. That was where I’d begin. It was a rough plan, but a plan nonetheless—more than I had this morning.

The drive home felt like forever, but soon enough, I was driving down the long gravel driveway with trees on either side. The day was rewarding, but I was ready to take off my heels and tell my guys how the rest of my day went.

My eyes darted to the tree line, where something orange, plump, and cuddly sat. I hadn’t seen him in a few days, but his food bowl in the kitchen was always empty, so we knew he’d been around.

I stopped my car and got out. “Hi, sweet boy, what have you been up to?” I cooed as I crouched next to him. I gave him a few pets he loved before I scooped him into my arms. I carried him to my car, where I was about to get in and drive us the rest of the way home, when a faint meow was heard.

Pressing my brows together, I looked into the tree line again, where the quiet noise came from. Another cat meowed again, and I stepped forward. “Did you make a friend?” I asked.

I’d only stepped a few feet into the trees when a white fluffy cat lying on the forest floor stuck out like a sore thumb. Her ears were down as I slowly approached. “Hi, kitty,” I whispered.

The closer I got, the clearer I could see the tiny calico kittens curled up next to her belly. My eyes widened as I gave Cat a squeeze. “What did you do?” I tried not to laugh. “You reproduced!” I breathed out. I thought he was fixed. He should have been, but obviously, someone dropped the ball on that.

Still moving slowly, I crouched a few feet away, where she hissed at me. “It’s okay...” I whispered. I obviously couldn’t leave her or the kittens out here. It was spring, and the nights were cold. She wasn’t wearing a collar, but she seemed too... pretty and clean to be a stray.

“Is this where you’ve been?” I shook my head down at Cat. He, of course, seemed unbothered as he nudged my hand with his head, asking for more pets. “Aiden will be so happy you’re still feral.”

Making a quick decision to try to bring the mom and her six babies inside, I went back to my car and grabbed a laundry basket I kept in the trunk (to make carrying groceries easier).

Thirty minutes, a very grumpy white kitty and a whole lot of scratches on my hands later, I sat next to the fireplace with a sleeping Cat to my left and a box full of kittens and a mom in front of me.

I’d called the local shelters, asking if anyone reported a lost white cat—no luck. I’d sent them photos of her, too, wanting her family to find her if she had one. I offered her some of Cat’s food and a bowl of water, which she was still too nervous to touch.

My guys had yet to return home, and I was more than eager for them to see what I’d stumbled upon. The kittens were adorable , and it was hard not to reach out to pet them. Still, I resisted. The mom was too stressed for that, and I didn’t want to bother them any more than I had while trying to get them all into the basket.

So, I patiently waited for them to get home. I watched the kittens stumble around and nurse as they warmed up beside the fire. I laid down on the rug with Cat cuddled up next to my torso. My eyes grew heavy as I spied on Cat’s friend and their babies, still shocked that they existed in the first place.

“What on earth?” Niko’s soft voice woke me.

Groggily opening my eyes, I saw all four of my guys standing over me, taking in the sight of our guests. Dominic sat behind me, and I was quick to sit up and place myself between his legs. “Look what your cat made, Aiden,” I chuckled.

The other three sat down on the rug, dumbfounded at the basket full of cats.

Surprisingly, Aiden reached into the basket and gently petted one of the kittens without the mom clawing at him like she did with me before. “Look at these little guys,” he whispered, inspecting the other kittens. “Where’d you find them?” He asked.

What a softie.

“In the tree line by the driveway. I called around, but no one’s reported a missing white cat,” I explained. “She’s feisty, but I don’t think she’s a stray,” I added, holding out my scratched hands.

Wyatt boldly stuck his hand into the basket and slowly petted the mom cat. Her ears went down for a moment before she realized he wasn’t going to hurt her. “You know, a couple down the street just moved and sold their house. I bet they left her,” he guessed, softly shaking his head. He traced her neck where her fur was indented like she’d worn a collar recently, and it was taken off.

Aiden and Niko carefully picked up a kitten, holding the babies close to their chest as they petted them with a single finger. They were so tiny! I leaned into Dominic’s chest as I watched the big men handle them so gently—it was beyond adorable, and I was taking mental pictures of the sight.

“Is six kittens and another cat too many to keep?” Aiden asked. I really couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Dominic nodded behind me. “We can’t keep the kittens,” he chuckled. “...past eight weeks,” he added.

“But we can keep her?” I asked, pointing to the mom.

Dominic nodded. “We’ll take them to the vet tomorrow to ensure they’re healthy after being in the woods. But if no one claims her and she’s not chipped, I don’t see why not.”

“Slowly, Aiden’s going to have an army of feral cats if we go down this path,” Niko joked.

“You found her, Doll. What’s her name?” Aiden smiled at me.

Trying my luck, I gently pet her, feeling her soft fur now that she’d calmed down. “Obviously, it has to be Kitty, right?” I beamed up at them.

“Cat and Kitty?” Wyatt chuckled, cringing to himself.

I nodded excitedly. It wasn’t the most creative name, but it was hers.

“It’s clearly our only option and a great name,” Aiden winked at me.

“Just promise me that if you find another one, you won’t name it Pussy, okay?” Niko joked, looking between Aiden and me, making us all laugh.

“No promises,” Aiden smirked. He placed the kitten down and picked up Cat, who was making his rounds as if proudly saying, ‘Look what I made!’ “Hi, you mangey thing,” he gushed, flipping him on his back and petting his tummy. “Your appointment to get fixed is in two weeks—couldn’t keep it in your fur till then?” He sighed in false disappointment. He wasn’t fooling anyone; he was overjoyed about the kittens.

Silently smiling to myself, I watched as the daylight faded from the sky, allowing the firelight to flicker and glow against their skin. The room filled with the soft hum of conversation and occasional bursts of laughter as we shared stories of our day, taking turns ogling over each of our new (and old) fuzzy friends.

The warmth of the fire and the love we shared created an atmosphere of pure bliss that I would never tire of and always crave.