Twenty-two year old Michael – Mike – Campbell-Black works for Corinium. His dad hates Tony Baddingham and Mick hates his dad so it fits perfectly. Though, his lineage does come with some advantages.

Rupert Campbell-Black is old money rich, and now he's a retired Olympian show jumper. And Mike's mom, Lady Eliza Montague, as she insists she still is, is a woman as cold hearted as his father is. They were perfect together. Why they even divorced, Mike has no idea. Both care more about money than their family.

Mike's half siblings, Tabitha and Marcus, are off way better. Their mom might not be as rich as his mother is, but at least she's present. Mike hadn't seen his mom since his fifteenth birthday. She hadn't bothered to come here, and he'd not want to see her.

Well, Mike's work for Corinium isn't really that special. All he does all day is bring everyone coffee (except for Daysee, she only drinks tea). Mike wants to be a journalist, he really does. Only his dad forbids it, and Tony had only hired him out of spite. Maybe he thought it was a good rub in Rupert Campbell-Black's face to hire his son to be an office assistant.

"Michael?" Daysee stands on the other side of Mike's desk. Her British accent is adorable, and it's always been clear to Mike that she has a crush on him. He finds it cute, actually. She's a little bit younger than him, about nineteen he thinks. This is only her summer job after all, but still. He likes entertaining himself with her.

"Yes, Daysee?" She smiles slightly at him.

"Well, Seb needs your help on an article, and he asked me to give it to you. James has to present it and Seb wanted it to sound like something James would actually say," Mike nods, as she continues, "And he doesn't really know what James would say so he asked me to give it to you-"

Mike smiles and grabs the script from her. "Consider it done." He winked at her, and then focused his attention onto the script in front of him. It was all written in British English of course, and though he had thankfully not lost his own accent, he could understand British English, having lived here for nearly 10 years.

The script itself is really boring, but that's not because of Seb. He had written it very well, but Daysee was right. This was not how James talked, and it would be very unnatural for words like this to come from that man's mouth. James was an asshole, Mike had no other way to put it. He didn't care about anyone but himself.
He didn't care about his wife, his kids, or the news he was presenting. James Vereker only cares about himself.

Michael Campbell-Black, in stark contrast, had cared too much for way too long. So now, he was trying to be more like James, and his dad, but really, he hated it.

Stuck really more in his own thoughts, hours went by like they were seconds. And in those split moments it seemed, Mike had edited the script. He was about to head out when he was stopped by Lucy, Tony's younger daughter. Tony and Monica had three children: Archie, Georgia, and Lucy.

Lucy is almost fourteen and has a big interest in her father's business, unlike her mother, brother and sister.

"Hello, Michael." Lucy smiled wide, and Mike could see her braces in her mouth. He nodded at her, but didn't pay her much attention. "My mum, my sister and I are going to be playing croquet when I get home, do you want to come and tag along?" During the summer, Lucy and Georgia Baddingham could be found at Corinium. Tony would say it's because they wanted to trace in his footsteps.

But Mike would say it's because of himself and Seb. He didn't want to toot his own horn, but Mike was attractive. Fit, even, as the Brits call it. He resembled his dad in looks, but with curly brown hair and an even fitter body. He worked out more than his dad, of course, but he wasn't an Olympian by any means.

Dad had been in retirement for about five years now though, so this was really the Rupert Campbell-Black that Mike was most familiar with.

"No, sorry, love." Mike said, and immediately Lucy's face soured.

"Why not?" She asked, and in her eyes he could still see a glimpse of hope.

There were two ways to answer this question. Charmingly, and honestly. He chose to go with the former.

"My dad's expected back home, and the old man wants to see me. He's missed me, he says." Lucy seems like she understands, though she's not happy about his answer.

Mike doesn't encourage her affections any more than a normal person should. The idea of a fourteen-year-old girl being in love with him, disgusts him. He had felt bad about Daysee, and that had started shortly before her nineteenth birthday.

"My daddy's coming back too. Why don't you call and tell him to tag along with mine? That way we can make a fun day of it, if you want. You could even stay for dinner." Though the thought of a home cooked meal from Monica Baddingham is tempting, not tempting enough for the fact that his dad and Tony would be in the same room.

There was no amount of money where he would willingly be in the same room where those two were as well. It's awful really, how good they are at pretending they don't hate each other.

"He's probably already on his way. And anyway, I'm not done here yet. Charles needs my help." That still didn't satisfy Lucy, but she left anyway. That had, of course, been a lie. Charles had done a half day today and was nowhere to be found. But it had gotten him out of the situation, so Mike couldn't be bothered to really mind.

***

A short while later, Michael came home to find his father already there.

But of course, Rupert Campbell-Black was not alone. Far from it. Mike hadn't expected otherwise. The dogs he was used to. The women, still not so much.

The woman of the hour was Beattie Johnson. He knew her name only because she had introduced herself. She carried her with the kind of grace that made Mike know that she was maybe somewhat famous, but he didn't from what. And he didn't care, really. Beattie looked about half a decade younger compared to his dad's 44.

Rupert Campbell-Black had a distaste for women his own age, that had been very clear to Mike from the beginning. Mike thought it probably had to do something with his dad's own immaturity.

"Michael." Rupert said. Mike looked at his dad with a half annoyed smirk. "Yes, Rupert?" Mike was twenty-two, there was no way in hell he was going to call his dad by anything other than his given name to his face. Rupert didn't seem to care too much what his son called him. He was mostly focused on Beattie, anyway.

Of course, they were about to fuck and so his dad wanted him to kindly fuck off. But Rupert would never tell his son to fuck off while a woman he wished to fuck was present. Jesus, how many times in one sentence was he thinking of fucking? Mike was more his father's son than he liked to admit.

"Lizzie asked me if you'd stop by today, M. She baked you a pie," Rupert said, a slight smirk on his face. "Yeah, I'll head over there now," Michael said, grabbing his coat. He put it on, before checking if there was a pack of cigs inside. There was. He then proceeded to walk out the front door, and headed towards Lizzie's house.

Michael had always felt really sorry for Lizzie. Mostly because of what a shitty husband James was. Her kids were okay, Mark and Ellie. They were six and three. Michael remembered when Mark was born. He had just moved in with his dad and wasn't settled in at all, but Lizzie and her newborn baby made it all a little easier.

And Ellie was a sweet kid too, even if Mike didn't have the same bond with her as he had with her older brother.

After a short ten minutes, Mike had arrived at the Vereker house. The children were playing in the yard, and Lizzie sat in the grass, looking exhausted. "Mikey!" Mark yelled, running towards Mike. He smiled at the boy and tickled his belly. He giggled loud before he ran off again, and Michael walked towards Lizzie.

She smiled at him, but looked surprised. She hadn't made a pie for him, but that was okay. He wanted to get out of the house anyway, after having been there for a whole hour or so.

"How nice of you to come for a visit," She smiled as she stood up and gave him a hug. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" He smiled at her. Lizzie was the only mum he'd really had, in the UK or even every, really.

"Rupert- I mean, dad's busy and wanted me out of the house, if you know what I mean." Lizzie, for all the good she had in her, really loved Rupert. And she didn't like it when Michael called Rupert, Rupert, so in front of her, he called him dad. He didn't feel like he owed it to Rupert, but he did feel like he owed it to Lizzie. Rupert is Lizzie's best friend, after all.

"Oh. I was just about to head over to the house across the road. Declan O'Hara and his family are moving in." Of course Michael had heard about the O'Hara's. Mike only wondered if this Declan was so smart, if he had agreed to work for Tony Baddingham.

"I'll come with you," Mike said, smiling at Lizzie. Maybe she'd wished he'd say he'd watch the kids, though he wouldn't have done that. He loved the two of them, really, but they were too much for him to handle.

Mike wasn't even sure he wanted to be a dad, and there was no way in hell he would be a dad to kids that weren't even his.

Lizzie went inside to get a basket with a bottle and some eggs. On the way, Mike did smoke a ciggy, though. He'd heard Tony say that Declan O'Hara had two teenage daughters. Mike wanted to see what the new fish was, and if he'd have to protect them from his dad.