* Charlie's P.O.V*

I worry. I have to attend a talk show, yet here I am, worrying about Mia.

I think till my head aches. Professionals dillydally around me, telling me what to say and do because they also just learned about my invitation to the show.

"Charlie, you are good to go, right?" the PR asks. I nod, and she brings in my outfit, only for us to realise it's big on me. She charges someone to find another while I dial Mia, to no avail. Giving up, I wear the new outfit, comprising an overbearing jacket, get my mic fixed, and strut to the stage. The audience goes into an uproar, whereas I smile at Monet seated opposite the host.

The host does his thing, mostly conversing with Monet. He gushes over our perfume shoot and asks if we're ambassadors for the brand. Monet says yes, even talking of our next trip to Brazil.

Instead of listening, I enter a trance so deep that the host has to laugh, "Er, Charlie?"

"Yes, sorry. It's... Really hot in here." I hesitate, hoping my jacket can exonerate me. It slips it off my shoulders, only for everyone to burst into whoops.

"Please, is everything ok?" I pull it up. The cheers turn into 'ohs.'

"Well, guess you should be expecting a lot of thirst tweets after here." The host giggles.

Confused, I cross my legs and clasp my hands to not look confused. Everyone laughs harder.

*
I call Mia at home. Her opening line is: "Were you trying to seduce people with those damn shoulders?"

"Language," I say, so she chuckles, "Cuz it worked. I'm literally reading through your thirst tweets, and oh my -"

"Aha, what are thirst tweets?"

"Never mind! " she exclaims, "Why did you call?"

Why did I call? Let me drag out my list of things to say. I have:
1.'Are you ok?'
2.'How is Desi?'
3. 'Are you lost?'
4. 'Please tell me how you are feeling, and what's going through your head?'
5. 'Did you speak to Pamela?'
6. What are we doing with the donkey heart?
6. 'Are we -'

"Charlie?"

"Mm?"

"Why did you call?"

I tense, only for something to fall at her end. She cuts the line before I know it. Staring at her number, I sink into the couch. Morning flashes. My friends come out like it's an intro to a show, Harry appearing first, waving and then bursting into laughter while singing, "It's really hot in here, so take off all your clothes."

"It's too early to be singing." Leo comes out next. Then Sil, with a look that screams 'exactly!'

"Why are you sleeping on the couch?"

"Nothing," I reply Leo. He squints at me, then lets it slide to announce, "Guys, let's visit Uncle Willem today."

"Ur, ok." Sil turns at the mention of her lawyer's name. Perhaps, as much as Uncle Willem helped her out of juvie, his short-lived marriage to Joe gives her the ick. He did leave Joe after realising that her and her family are horrible people, so if anything, I feel bad for him.

Imagine falling in love, having a child with that person, and then learning that while you grant kids freedom, her family sells them.

And she can kill you and get away with it.

Poor Uncle Willem.

I haven't seen him in a while either, so the trip to his Edinburgh home is quite refreshing. Uncle Willem ushers us in, surprised. His kid's cries fill space instantly, causing us to hover over the baby boy's stroller.

"He is so big already," Leo gushes, cupping his cheeks. I nod, and Sil lifts him. "Yep. Very heavy."

Harry runs after her as she circles the living room, bouncing the baby in her arms. The baby's nanny, a young lady called Caelen, takes over since his crying escalates.

Harry follows Caelen, whereas Sil, Leo, and I sit with Willem. Harry starts a lullaby, which finally soothes the baby.

"You have a nice voice." Caelen smiles.

Harry returns the gesture. "You gave a gorgeous smile."

"Thanks, ur, Mr. Nice."

"Really, like I could try writing a song about it, but it will never end. So fucking gorgeous."

Caelen perks a brow to that. Forty minutes later they are snogging. Leo has to drag him out of her room before he goes too far.

*
°
*

Meanwhile Mia's aunt is trying to reach Willem. She calls and calls but to no avail. Unaware that he has visitors (us) around, Joe grunts. It's her second wedding, albeit a fake one and she just needs to hear her son.

How can Willem keep punishing her like this? She throws her phone elsewhere and slips on her gown. Guests await her outside the Yeltsin mansion, many of whom are business associates of the company. Her only family present are her mother, Granny Pom, her brother, Dolph, and his son, Anton. The three smile at her, though Joe can sense Anton didn't want to come. Perhaps Dolph begged him.

The wedding goes as planned, lasting two hours. Joe can't wait for 8 pm when she'll be assigned as CEO. It may be interim, but it's the best position she can put herself in. She doesn't have a lot going for herself anyway.

Dolphin and Anton congratulate her and her husband, after which her husband excuses himself.

"So how much did you pay to get him?" Anton snickers.

His father glares but Joe says, "Quite a lot. How is Cynthia? And Mia and Desi, are they fine in the US?"

"They are all good."

"Good."

"So are we gonna keep pretending Desi's parents are alive." Anton walks behind them, since his stomach is growling.

There will be a reception for only family and board members at Joe's place. Her new husband drives there first and meets food so tantalizing that he lets his stomach win.

Joe, Dolph and Anton arrive next. Anton stays beside his father, watching Joe rant about her plans for the company until he walks ahead to the door. The instant he opens it, his eyes bulge.

"Jo..Joe?"

"Yes -" She stops.

Dolph is the only one to take a look and then get to work like it's nothing. Anton runs straight to a bathroom to vomit.

By 8pm, the groom's body is in a freezer. Dolph has all the food thrown away, and fires the caterers. When the guests inquire of the groom, Joe says he is on an important trip. Anton goes home sickened.

The next day, the board announces her as their CEO. She is lauded all the way to her new office like a duchess. Easing into her seat, she thinks everything will be ok.

Until Pamela shows up.

"Congrats. It's a shame I haven't gotten to see your husband though."

"He's busy."

"Aren't all men?" Pamela chuckles. Joe throws a cautious glance at the security cameras, before saying, "If you are here to threaten me again, don't waste your breath. There's no money for you here."

Pamela shakes her head. "Do I look dumb to you?"

"No, but you will when I ask my security to escort you out," Joe retorts, "You signed a prenup so I don't see what you except."

"There were conditionalities in our arrangement. Ask his lawyer and his accountant," says Pamela.

"What kind of conditionalities?"

"Does it matter? His money is mine. End of story."

"I can't help you. Even if I wanted to, it's not legal."

"Let's be real here," is Pamela's reply, "You don't want to see the worst of me, so kindly get me my money."

Joe smiles. "What's your worst? Poison? Bring it on, bitch."

*
*

The instant the bitch leaves, Joe considers calling Igor's accountant. When she seeks Dolph's counsel, he suggests a personal meeting instead, causing Joe to fly to the UK.

The accountant is not thrilled to see her. He barges in and out of his rooms as Joe waits patiently at his porch. Once he reappears, he states, "I wasn't there when Igor married Pamela. I don't know anything about their agreements. Sorry for wasting your time."

"Wait. Mr Jackson." Joe grabs his arm. He turns and she sighs, "Are you angry with me?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Mr. Jackson grunts. "You and your brother messed up so bad."

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry. But right now I need Pamela off my back so... Help?"

Mr. Jackson stares at Joe. Silence settles until he declares, "Fine. I'll have to up to the States first to sort some stuff."

"Great. I'll go with you. We can take my jet."

"Miss Joe, this is not an excursion -"

"It's Mrs." Joe corrects.

*
*

After her meeting with the accountant, she sneaks to her former home. To her relief, her ex is not there.

But Caelen is. Caelen fidgets as Joe pleads to see her son. Although given a chance, Joe only gets to hold her baby in Caelen's presence.

Only when hungry does Caelen leave them to fry some chicken while scrolling social media. She finds Harry's account, after which she calls her friend to say, "Remember that guy I told you about?... Yep, I found his account. What a hottie... Mhm, and a great kisser too, but Pamel, what if he's a player? ...You think I should give it a shot?"

Unknown to her, Joe just passed by and heard 'Pamel'.

Caelen calls Harry upon her friend's positive counsel. She gets sent to voicemail, but stays hopeful enough to say, "Urm, hi. It's me. Caelen. I was just thinking about... You, and I was wondering if you wanna hang out sometime. Willem lets me have breaks so anytime you pick will be fine by me. Anyway-"

Her head slams into the pan on fire with the hot oil. Chicken pieces sizzle around her once pretty face. Her last breath begins Joe's quiver.

"Oh my goodness!" Joe jerks her hand off the girl's head, causing her to hit the ground. Stepping back, Joe grabs the phone to check who she called.

Unknown number, and then Pamel - Pameline. Shit. Joe stills. She wasn't talking to Pamela! Oh shit, what have I done?!

The next three hours is spent on cleaning all traces of her fingerprints. Joe hides Caelen's body in her boot, locks up the house and kisses her baby before leaving him at the neighbour's frontstep.

She dumps the body in a lake, and then phones Dolph. Being the supportive brother he is, he tells her to just go to the States as soon as possible. Joe obliges.

*
°
*

Her jet ride with the accountant proves quiet. With four deaths since her brother's demise, and two that she had to clean up, Joe feels anything but bliss.

Yet the accountant lauds her. She's sick of it. Sick of the position. Sick of her family. Sick of Pamela. Especially her!

"What are you so worried about?" asks Mr. Jackson. Joe shakes her head, so he adds, "A beautiful woman like you shouldn't worry so much."

There's a pause. Joe shuts her lids. "Take off your clothes."

Stunned, the accountant replies, "Didn't you just marry?"

"Take off your clothes. I won't ask thrice."

*
°
*

While the accountant and Joe have sex, Dolph worries in Russia. He wonders if Joe is spiralling or what. She just got the position - what will she do when real trials come up? Will she kill again? How can she be so callous when the family's image is already drowning the company.

On that thought, Dolph files a complaint to his father, asking for an election early next year. Then he drives to his son's apartment.

"What do you want?" is how Anton greets him.

Dolphin tucks his hands in his pockets. "I want you to take over the company."

That catches Anton off guard. He squints at his father, unsure of what to say.

"You don't have to make a choice now, but think about it. Be quick, though. We don't have much time to waste."

That being said, he leaves his gobsmacked son to stare at his receding figure. Dolphin speeds off at the same time Cynthia comes out. She shakes Anton. Anton doesn't budge. She gives him a peck and he turns to utter, "You were right. We should move on."

"Why? What happened."

A pause. Anton holds her hand. "Someone poisoned the wedding food or at least the croissants because -" He cracks. "Joe's new husband died. Bad thing he loved croissants so much eh? Fuck." A tear falls.

Cynthia wipes it and lifts Anton's chin. He tries to smile.

*

It takes her hours to think through what happened and how different things would have been if everyone died... including Anton. By midnight, Cynthia decides.

"Anton, let's get married."