"this world can hurt you

it cuts you deep and leaves a scar

things fall apart, but nothing breaks like a heart

and nothing breaks like a heart"

© 2021 Emma Norman. All Rights Reserved.

I had never been one for paying attention to my surroundings nor to the people in those surroundings. I especially didn't care much for the place which I called home.

It had been a long time since it felt like home, though. I don't understand why I hadn't moved out, but I suppose that it had something to do with the time it had taken me to save to afford it in the first place—it had taken a damn long time to get the place.

It was also somewhere that, despite being tainted with angst and hurt, was also somewhere that had once been filled with happiness and love.

That, and the view was fucking incredible. There weren't many places you could wake up in the morning to the sun filtering between the buildings and lighting up your bedroom; it's a hell of a way to wake up especially when you forget to close the damn blinds before passing out the night before.

Even having your heart broken by a heartless bitch isn't enough to detract from the view. You see, I have constantly tried to convince myself that I was over the ache which had been caused by a certain Miss Hobson, but I had no clue who I was trying to convince.

My head or my heart.

It had fucked me up. It took me a while to realise just how fucked up I had become, but it hit me at the point I was paying women to strip for me, and it hit even harder at the point I wasn't telling those woman that I didn't want to screw them in the private room at the back of the club. I just took what I wanted from them, not that they weren't willing participants, and I left.

But there was one thing which I could never get over. One thing which constantly niggled at the back of mind when my bitch of an ex-fiancée told me that I was no longer good enough for her. One thing which had been the source of many sleepless nights and had driven me insane since the moment the words had left her poisoned lips.

"I am sorry, Hayden. But I cannot marry you in the morning." There was not an ounce of remorse in her words and, as she checked her phone for new messages, I knew that she would rather be anywhere other than here. "I no longer love you and I have plans of my own. Plans which I can't fulfil by agreeing to marry some low stakes businessman who still believes Daddy will be proud of him."

Pftt. If she could see me now then she would be all over me. She would want to marry me and call herself my wife now that I was an established businessmen. Now that people respected me and answered to me. Now that I was the one with the power and I controlled all of the situations.

Now that I was no longer a low stakes businessman who still believes that Daddy will be proud of me.

I was in the place where Libbie had always wanted me to be. Sure, it may have taken me longer than anticipated to reach this point, but becoming involved with drugs and alcohol can do that to a person. It certainly sealed my place as my father's most hated child, but it also felt good to have some sort of recognition from the man who had helped to ensure my existence in this shitty world.

Even if that recognition was him forcing me into rehab and spinning a story to the papers that I had taken a 'sabbatical' from work and had left the country for some 'me' time to recover from my broken heart. To ensure that his sick illusions of the perfect family remained untainted, he also forced anyone who knew about my 'condition'—as he referred to it—to sign NDAs which forbid them from discussing the fact my life was falling apart around me.

"Sir." I was almost grateful for the obnoxious voice which dragged me from my memories and returned me to the moment I should have been focusing on. "We have arrived. Do you require a car for this evening when you have finished work?"

"I do. But I will ring you when I am ready. I have a meeting this evening with Mr Jacobson, and you know what he's like when he gets going," I grinned at the man who was sat in the driver's seat. He was a man who had been loyal to me long before my father demanded his signed an NDA and a contract which outlined his responsibilities to me. Even at my lowest point, when it should have been my family who were picking me up, he was the one who was there for me.

The scar on the side of his face was a constant reminder of just how far he was willing to go to be there for me. To be the one who dragged me out of the rabbit hole which I fell into and to remind me of the shred of humanity which was contained within my selfish body.

"Is he the one who prefers to talk about himself rather than the business he is meant to be discussing? Sometimes acts a sexist pig whenever Danielle tries to have an input on the conversation? You would love to punch him in the face if it wouldn't result in the loss of millions to your company?" Jaxson chuckled.

"That's the one." Jaxson nodded his head with his signature smug look on his face whenever he correctly remembered something I had shared with him. "Man, how I would love to put my fist in that asshole's face."

"You may have mentioned that one or a hundred times," Jaxson sniggered, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "Anyway, Danielle is probably wondering where the hell you are since you should have been at your office—" he pauses for a moment as he checks his watch to see how late I am running. "—seven minutes ago now."

"Ah well, shit happens." I shrugged carelessly as I clapped Jaxson on the shoulder and stepped out of the car onto the icy pavement beneath me. "I will drop you message when I am finished, Jax. Until then, take the rest of the day off. Take your wife and kids out for lunch, spoil them for once."

"Aye aye, Captain." Jaxson mock saluted with a grin, which I returned, just as I closed the door and turned my attention to the building which was in front of me.

It was a glass building—something which I hated but my father loved and he had insisted that was the material which was used in the design. Even when I had my own company, it was still impossible for me to escape the imposing and domineering man who insisted that I called him father. If he wasn't in control, then he firmly believed I would fuck up and ruin my company before it had even had the chance to flourish.

It grated on me and really did piss me off, but for the sake of an easy life and having the least amount of contact with my father as possible, I just did whatever he wanted without argument. I can't say that I didn't imagine punching his face to a pulp and releasing my anger towards him in the most brutal fashion, but that's where those thoughts and image remained. In my imagination.

Though, the one thing which was my own personal touch, was the sign which was right above the entrance. It brightly illuminated the words Peck's Enterprises and was obnoxiously oversized. It was designed to be the first thing which caught the eye of anyone who walked into the building—something which aggravated my father no end and made me giddy whenever I thought of just how aggravated it made him.

It was small victory in the grand scheme of things. But it was a victory nonetheless, one which I took graciously because it was that tiny bit of happiness I felt whenever I looked at the hideous building I had to call my office. What made it even worse was the complete lack of privacy which came with having a building made of glass.

The people were not only exposed for the outside world to see, they were also exposed to my watchful eye as people went about completing their work. My employees were cagey, ensuring that they never did anything to piss me off or something which would earn themselves a date in my office. They were doubly cautious due to my unpredictable temper and my innate ability to force people to hand their notice in not long after they had completed said date in my office.

"Mr Peck." Danielle's face was always a pleasant sight whenever I entered the building and she was one of the few people with whom I actually enjoyed interacting with. Even if it was only for work purposes, she was someone you could hold an intellectual conversation with and she wasn't afraid to call you out on your bullshit either.

It didn't necessarily mean that I would listen to her nor take her opinion on board. But it was always enjoyable hearing her express her opinion and listening to her tell me what a heartless bastard I am, and it was especially amusing when she would go on her rants about all the things Jesus would want me to do.

Admittedly, she hated it when I laughed at her, but it didn't stop me from doing it whenever she went off on one.

"Danielle. What have you got for me today?" I unfastened the button on my suit as we entered the lift which would take me to my office on the eleventh floor of the building. "Please tell me that there is something interesting going on with my life besides the meeting with Mr Jacobson this evening."

"I could tell you that I have something interesting lined up for you..." I was momentarily thrilled at the prospect of being able to have some sort of fun with my day, but it was short lived when Danielle completed her sentence. "...But I would be lying. You have paperwork from Natalia Heartwell which you need to read through and sign, then you have a meeting with Daniel Thornton about the state of his finances and a possible takeover on your part, followed by—"

"Yeah. Yeah. I got it. It's going to another dull day in the life of Hayden Peck," I sighed in frustration and ran my fingers through my hair whilst watching the numbers on the lift pass by at an agonisingly slow rate.

"Also, your mother called. She said to remind you that she and your father would be coming round for dinner this evening."

"Did you tell them that I was busy and would, therefore, be unable to make their appointment?" I wasn't in the mood to see them and spend an evening pretending that I wanted to be in their company. In fact, that was the last thing which I wanted to do after a meeting with Mr Jacobson, and my father would know that which is why he would have picked tonight to decide he was going to come over.

"As I do every single time, but she was having none of it. She insisted that you clear your schedule and have dinner ready for eight thirty sharp."

"Well, I guess they will be in for a surprise when they get to my apartment and they find it devoid of both life and food." Even if I did finish my meeting earlier than planned, I would probably tell Jaxson to take me somewhere which meant I wouldn't have to have contact with my overbearing parents who would only question me on when I was going to get married. And, if they weren't on my case about finding myself a bride, they wanted to know when I was going to give them some grandchildren.

Though, to my parents, grandchildren simply meant heirs to their ever expanding fortune. It also meant them having tiny minds which they could manipulate and grow as they see fit to suit the world which we were a part of. But, most importantly, I wasn't even sure that I wanted to be a father and to be responsible for bringing a life into this cruel world.

I had made it abundantly clear to both my mother and father that I didn't want to get married. I knew that I wouldn't survive another heartbreak like the one I had suffered at the hands of Libbie and I didn't want to become involved in a marriage of convenience either for the sake of pleasing my parents. They only wanted me to get married so that they had someone to call a daughter after they had exiled their own daughter from the family, and had cut her off from everything.

She had even been forced to change her name and, whilst she thought that I didn't care, she didn't know that I had been keeping an eye on her from afar. But that's a story for another day and not something which needs to be discussed now.

"There is, uh, one more thing, sir." Danielle shifted on her feet as the lift came to a stop on the eleventh floor.

"Urgh. Might as well keep it coming and ruin my day some more." I rolled my eyes and readied myself for her to tell me that my dickhead twin brother, who loved to remind me that he was older than me, had also decided that he was going to show his face after three-months without contact. He could be dead for all I know but I would make that a reality if he turned up after being MIA for so long—the arrogant shit couldn't even spare me a Facebook message to tell me that he hadn't been murdered by whoever he had pissed off recently.

"While you were waiting outside, reception informed me that, uh—"

"Come on, Danielle. Spit it out. It can't possibly be that bad," I chuckled as I nodded to Alice, my receptionist, in return to her eager wave.

"ReceptioninformedmethatMissHobsoniswaitinginyourofficeforyou." Danielle didn't even breathe as she rushed to get her words out in one hit. Only she said it so fast that I didn't have a clue what she said and, if it weren't for the terrified look on her face and slight shake of her hands, I would have found myself laughing.

"Shall me trying that one again, Danielle?" But there was no need for her to repeat what she had just said when I opened the door to my office and saw the red head who had once been my everything sat behind my desk like she owned the place. My face was quickly devoid of emotion and I nodded to Danielle in thanks before slamming my door closed.

"Libbie. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

thank you for reading and I would really appreciate either a vote or a comment about what you think so far :)

questions:

1) what do you think of Hayden so far?

2) why do you think Libbie has returned? :O

3) what do you think is going to happen in the book?