Harrison pulled around the fountain, he stepped out of his car and grabbed his suit jacket from the seat behind him. He handed his bag to the maid who came out to help him, and together they walked into the house.

When they first bought the mansion, it was a temporary home, as his father planned to build another house for his mother. After a few years of living in it, neither of them wanted to live anywhere else. It wasn't an overly large mansion. It had a generous amount of bedrooms, a small garden and a swimming pool at the back. Everything felt larger, now that it was mostly him, his mother and his aunt—actually a friend of his mom, but she slowly became a large part of the family. There were only a few maids around since his mother decided she didn't need too many. She wanted to handle more things around the house, believing that having more to do would be a good distraction.

Emilia Clark, his beautiful mother, was a woman of a few words but many opinions. As he grew, he became familiar with his mother's style, usually baggy from her waist down and fitted from her waist up. She was modest with her jewels but still managed to make the simplest outfit look classy and graceful. His father had always been proud to have her on his arm, and with good reason, she was a charmer. Though a relationship was not always on Harrison's mind, he always admired the relationship they had, wanting something like it for himself when the time came. It broke his heart to see her without his father.

He smiled to himself as he leaned against the door frame, watching her. She worked in the kitchen with the cooks, sorting out what they would have for dinner.

It grieved her when his father died, another blow to her heart. She smiled a little more now than she did when he first arrived home, which made him happy. Aside from the brighter colours she spotted, her hair was also in curls, which meant she went out to the salon. He liked to see her going out because staying within the walls of their house would only serve to drive her insane.

"Hey." He whispered, walking around the table to hug her. His mother laughed, propping her chin on his shoulder and patting his back heartily. "Good evening mom."

"Indeed." She squeezed his arms and took time to take a good long look at him. She fussed with his hair, then tracked her fingers under the skin of his eyes, her disapproving headshake letting him know he was in for a lecture. "You need to stop working yourself like a mule."

He sighed, kissing her on the cheek before sinking into one of the chairs, bracing his hand against it. "You sound like Josephine."

"Then she and I can agree on one thing. I know exactly how much your father's company means to you, but it doesn't mean you should work yourself to death. Taking a break now and then can be more refreshing than you think."

"You are preaching to the choir. Nothing I want more now than to fall asleep. Yes," he moaned under his breath as he rested his cheek against the table, murmuring his pleasure of the cool surface against his face. "I could sleep right here."

"Tough luck." His mother snapped her fingers above his ears and helped him to his feet. "Go upstairs and wash your face. Dinner is ready. Flora will be late, she had to check up on her son."

"Something wrong."

"She will let us know when she joins us for dinner today. You go, get yourself out of these clothes and into something more comfortable. I'll finish setting the table here."

Harrison didn't waste any time. He bounded up the stairs with whatever energy he had left and walked into his room, tossing his jacket on his bed. Harrison stripped out of his shirt and walked into the bathroom to splash some water over his face. He slunk his arms over the sink in exhaustion, using a damp towel against his neck and shoulders. Every muscle in his body was sore from sitting most of the day.

After he changed into more comfortable clothes, he crawled to the centre of his bed, sprawling out over the mattress. It wasn't the first night he returned home exhausted, for weeks now, his bones liquified the moment he fell to his bed. His days were filled with meetings, files, deals, work while he split his nights between food and rest.

His phone rang, breaking his thoughts and he rolled over to pick it out of his jacket. Josephine's name flashed on his screen. His finger hovered over the button, he contemplated not answering it for a second then quickly changed his mind.

"Hey, babe."

"Hi," Josephine murmured cautiously, and he turned on his back. "I wanted to come over to your house, but I didn't want to interrupt because I know you might get home late. You are home, right?"

Harrison wisely ignored the insinuation in her tone, did she expect him to be out again? He nodded to no one. "Yeah. I just got in."

Josephine sighed. "I was a bit inconsiderate earlier, wasn't I?"

Another loaded question. He wasn't great with 'relationship talks' and mainly ended up saying the wrong things. His father always advised him to think before he spoke. The problem was, his thinking process took time, and Josephine usually misinterpreted his silence.

He rubbed his brows with his fingers and answered honestly, "I don't know. I am not sure I even know what happened today."

"I was jealous." She confessed in a small voice. Harrison wasn't even surprised. He decided it would be best to let her speak, it wasn't like he had anything to say anyway. "You and Cassandra, just the possibility bothers me because I know where it can go from there. She is a dangerous woman, and not just in business. With the death of your father and this new drift building between us, I am afraid, Harrison. I am afraid that you will... I don't know, fall for her. You have a thing for challenging women and you won't be the first man to be attracted to her ambition.'"

"We probably shouldn't discuss this over the phone."

"I know, but I told you I can't come over. This doubt is eating me alive."

"I have never even met the woman Josephine." He defended himself, trying not to sound curt, but he could hear the bite in his tone. He was too tired to care. "She is known everywhere, it's not like I wouldn't have heard of her one way or the other. I am not trying to pick at you, but your jealousy might be a bit unjustified in this case."

She blew out an exasperated breath just as a soft knock on his door drew his attention. A maid peered in, whispering that his mother was waiting for him. He waved his phone to indicate he was on a call, and she politely closed the door.

"Who was that?"

"The maid, Josephine. Mom's waiting for me. I am late for dinner."

"Right." She sounded less agitated at that point. "You are right. I am sorry. This is not the time for this. Can we talk tomorrow, please? Have breakfast and discuss us for a moment, it has been a while since I had you to myself."

Harrison thought back to his schedule, wondering if he had time in the morning to make promises. "Yes. I'd pick you up from home. Maybe that way I can see your parents. It's been a while since I saw them and I will hate them to think I am avoiding them."

"Oh babe, that's so sweet, but my parents are on a trip out of town. Besides, you know my family house is too far from yours. Just give me a place to meet, and I'll drive out there to meet you. Save you some time and gives us more time to spend together."

"Okay."

"Harrison?"

"Yeah."

"Please don't be mad at me. I hope you understand the reason I am not comfortable with this situation."

"Yeah." He lied, waiting for the click on her end before tossing his phone down on the bed. He pushed his fingers into his hair and yanked it with a quiet groan of frustration.

He was tempted to turn his phone off, not to get any messages from work or Josephine and have a quiet night at home with his family. The only thing that stopped him was that if they couldn't get to his phone, they could call his house anyway, so there was no point. Josephine's bouts of jealousy were not frequent so, like the others, he was sure it would pass by the time they talked.

Dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, he hobbled downstairs to the dining room where his mother and Flora were waiting for him, a glass of wine in their hands. They chatted away and don't notice him until he clapped to get their attention. Flora lifted her chin for a kiss, smiling at him as he took his seat on the other side of the table.

As per their custom, they asked him about work.As per his custom, he dodged the question by telling them he didn't want todiscuss work while they dined. His mother allowed him to get away with it,deciding to fill him in on her day instead. He relished their stories, usingtheir day to forget his own. With each glass of wine he had, and every storyshe told, he felt the day brighten more and more.