Delmont, named after its original owner who was French, was a high-rise Greek-inspired architecture building with three floors, magnificently built, surrounded by a vast green lush garden, its grass freshly cut and trimmed.

Edward was staring out the window, overlooking the guests arriving at the fundraiser party, admiring the added touch to the building his father now owned.

He unbuttoned his collar, feeling hot, the taste of champagne lingering on his tongue. The string quartet played downstairs, entertaining the guests and media while Edward waited, feeling bored, and grabbed another glass of his distraction from a waiter passing by.

Once he used to be part of the family's rendezvous, his father pushing him farther ahead, showing off the inheritor of his empire.

Yeah, used to!

It was changed when Edward was halfway through college and the focus was shifted to his younger brother without a thought. A point where Edward was starting to care about the life his father was preparing for him to.

Wait till I'm prepared.

His eyes flicked at the woman whom he was waiting for, and a smile crept back onto his lips, spreading like an illness. Estella climbed out of the car, wearing a tight-fitted shimmery black dress that went down—below her knees with a high back slit, making her walk easily and gracefully.

Edward moved away from the window, stalking toward the railing, and settled his gaze at the entrance as Estella entered, the room suddenly started to feel more lively.

He stayed put, wanting to watch her movements and involvement with the people. As far as he knew, Estella knew no one, and the invitation suggested that his father was going to insert himself into her life directly this time. Mr. Blake's indirect involvement was unknown to Estella and Edward was hoping to keep it that way, for her sake.

Nora made the first move, engaging with Estella, giggling and probably complimenting her dress and hair. She was taking his breath away and he was imagining himself alone with her, holding her, feeling her, losing his senses, and then melting into her thoughts and soul.

Estella was nervous, half talking to Nora and half eyeing around her, looking for someone.

Me. He smiled at the assurance of his thought.

However, the look on Estella's face changed as her eyes locked with his father, and they held their gaze for a few more seconds before she looked away, becoming uncomfortable. She grabbed a glass of Stoli, gulping it down in seconds, and vying for another one soon after.

Vanessa appeared as well, attempting to get to know Estella as well. His stepmother never hid her attempts to get close to anything that Edward cared about and for years she wanted to bond with him but he wasn't going to because when the power struggle of Blake Corporation would be at its peak, she would choose Elvis, her blood.

No expectations, no disappointments.

As soon as Mr. Blake appeared in front of the microphone, the string quartet faded, and Edward texted Estella who read the message, and looked up, meeting Edward's eyes.

The color on her pretty face was back and she seemed like she held no hate in her for him as she looked back. She even may have smiled but was too good at hiding it if she did.

The guests, too many to count, surrounded the stage as Estella ascended the stairs, her heels clicking on the tiled floor.

The hall downstairs was occupied by people from various rehab and correction facilities, represented by their founders, a whole group of doctors dressed for the party discussing the kids in need that were out in the world, suffering from psychological problems, a problem Edward knew all too well.

She approached him, stopping at a hand distance, the hesitant look on her face back as if she was contemplating her decision to stay downstairs with the guests or with him.

He took his chance before she changed her mind. "You are bonding well with Nora and Vanessa," he said, smelling the hint of rose and jasmine scent on her body. The need to grab her hand and pull her close was strong.

"They indulge me quite well," she said, her words contrasting her actions. Estella made it clear she didn't want to start caring about anyone near him, fearing it might be another one of his ways to manipulate her and make her stay.

She wasn't entirely wrong.

"But they are nice, really nice," she continued, casting a look at the event taking place on the first floor. "I don't see why you think so less of them."

"That's not what I meant when we last talked about them." He said, taking a swig of his drink and handing the rest to her. She hesitated for a second before grabbing the glass. "And Nora is my sister. Blood or not."

She drank the liquid, unable to get that he meant more than he said. "Your action says otherwise. I've been in your house more than a week and you never talk to them. In fact, you talk to no one. It makes me think..."

She paused, noticing the change of softness she caught while living in his house.

"Makes you think what?" Edward asked, unbuttoning his coat. Estella's eyes fell on his frame, the skin near his collar and she sucked in a breath, turning her face, looking flushed.

The heat in the air scared her and she walked away, halting at the doorway of a random room, the line of books grabbed her attention.

The noise from speakers had heightened, along with the chatter going around and Edward preferred to be away anyway. It was a library with a study table and probably equipped with more bottles of Stoli.

"I want to meet my mom," Estella said instead, holding her phone tightly, and eyeing the room.

"She's safe. I promise," He said, entering inside, "And well."

"No!" She hissed, her eyes a little cold as she followed him. The voice died down and it was now only them talking. "It's been too long since the last time I met her. She's going to figure out soon you're keeping her away from me. And I don't want to burst her bubble and break her heart that you're such a jerk."

"If I tell you, you'll try to fly away with her, far away from me."

"Knowing you. Who wouldn't?" She said harshly before withdrawing her eyes off him and settling them on the lines of books loaded on the bookshelves instead.

"You think you have me all figured, don't you?"

"Just enough." She said confidently as she ran her fingers on the spine of the books.

"Really?" He pushed. "Tell me how well you know me then."

The challenge was evident and she stilled, a picture or scene playing behind her eyes but she kept facing the bookshelves, not bothering to glance at him.

Instead of answering him, she pulled out a book, walked over to him with a complacent look on her face, and grabbed his left hand, slamming the book on his palm. "I hope this answers it well." And with that, she stalked out of the room, disappearing completely.

Edward dropped his eyes, finding a children's picture book in his hand, surprised why there was even a children's book in the first place.

He chuckled at her smartness and preciseness as he read the title of the book 'The Shepherd Boy and the Wolf'. So perfectly put and well answered.

Throwing the book at his feet, he waltzed toward the study table, inspecting and finding a bottle of vodka, screwing it open, and downing a gulp, the burn sizzling his tongue.

Edward was well aware of how right she was and she had all the reason in the world to be scared of him, run away far and far from him.

No! She is all I want.

He was being selfish and he didn't care. There wasn't a choice anymore that she could turn around and walk away. Mr. Blake was now prying on Estella, a means to control Edward despite his efforts to keep her away at all costs in the past.

Six months ago when Estella put the assault video online, she came under his father's notice and Edward's other life was out in the open in a matter of the next few months. Mr. Blake, who saw that as a personal attack decided to crush her.

Since then he had been in a tug-of-war with his father, and keeping Estella by his side all the time became a necessity. Also, she was his and he wasn't letting her go even without his father's interference.

Edward toyed with the bottle in his hand and after deciding to not get drunk, he screwed it back, put it on the table, and left the library, coming back to where he was before.

The charity had ended and the party had taken a fun lane, the music now playing according to the soft, slow, and ambient atmosphere.

He first found Nora hanging around the bar counter, drinking right under Vanessa's nose who was dancing with Elvis on the floor, surrounded by a dozen more couples. A few hands away was Mr. Blake, hand in hand with Estella as they both danced and talked.

His blood boiled and his feet took off and he was next to them, pausing them as they turned their heads at him. Mr. Blake curled his lips into a sneer while Estella was uninterested, probably pissed at the intrusion, unaware of how low Mr. Blake's hand sat low on her waist, his fingers grazing her hips.

It would take Estella another year to figure out Edward wasn't even half the manipulator of his father. He was entirely a different game.

Mr. Blake backed down, stalking away, and before she had the chance to leave, Edward stepped in, holding her hand and pulling her close, enclosing them together.

"And you wonder why I hate you," she complained, the smell of rose and jasmine engulfing Edward's senses once more.

"I don't wonder," he said, twirling her around, her back leaning against his chest. "And I'll make you love my darkness just as you loved the light I held around you."

"I'm not interested in becoming your therapist." She said, her voice hard. "You own what you do and learn from them so the next woman who comes into your life, make sure you don't repeat them."

He twirled her again, face to face. "There's no next woman. Mark my words. You'll grow to love every single fucked up part of me as well."

She flared her nose, disliking the tone and depth of his words so she began walking away when Edward pulled her to him, twirling her once again, her back molding into his chest.

He crossed both of his hands around her, his chin grazing her bare shoulder. "What were you two talking about before I barged in?"

"Why would I tell you?"

"He's not a nice man, you know,"

"Of course, you are his handiwork, after all."

Maybe she saw My father for what he was after all.

Allowing his proud smile to slip out, he said. "Es, be careful around my father, okay?"

"I got the memo," she said and rolled her eyes. "I fight you and now I'll fight him."

"He's feeding you things, right?" Edward suggested. "Egging you on with the things you need, isn't it?"

"If he gives me what I want," she spoke, fire in her eyes, a glint of challenge playing. "Then maybe I'll let him."

"What did he offer?" He pressed, his voice soft and raspy. The fingers of his hand ran on her shoulders and arms, making Estella shiver in response.

"One or two things," she said, trying hard to ignore the tingles spreading in her body. "My mom is one of them."

"And what's the other?"

She turned around and looked up at him. Mimicking him, she snaked her hands all the way from his fingers, to his arms, to his shoulders, and finally rested her hands on his face, cupping his cheeks as she let her thumb graze his lower lip. "Why don't you ask your dearest father?" Estella glanced over his shoulder, looking at someone probably standing behind him.

"Just the person I was waiting for, finally. Excuse me!"

She was fast on her toes, leaving him alone.

Estella had approached a young woman of her age, with long sleek blonde hair, a little shorter, and he stared, feeling a familiarity.

He shook his head and sighed, making a mental note to check the guest list later, and made his way to his father who was busy with his partners with Elvis standing behind him, too eager to be part of the conversation and prove he was worth the position he was given.

Elvis was well qualified with top scores, and a perfect degree but on paper. He was smart but he lacked the knack for business and was hesitant in his decisions and notions that mixed well with fear of sharing the same fate as Edward.

Their conversation faded as he approached and Mr. Blake matched his eyes with son, a sinister smile playing on his face.

His father stepped forward, excusing himself and meeting him, away from the prying eyes and ears.

"We had a deal," Edward bared his teeth at him.

Ignoring his attitude, he exhaled a deep breath, grabbing two glasses of Stoli. "The rules are for you to follow," he said, holding the second glass for him. "Not for me."

He turned his hands away, not interested in drinking. "She's mine to handle."

"I've never had any intention of keeping the end of my bargain." He drank from the glass he offered to him. "Something you were already aware of."

"Then I guess I should stop running errands for you now."

He laughed in a mocking voice. "That woman is wearing you down, boy." He spoke, the decibel of his voice becoming excited. "She fucked with my things, my work. You have no idea how many strings I had to pull to stop that scandal from becoming a storm. So many favors I owned were wasted on a piece of trash because you can't handle a fucking cunt."

Edward balled his fist. "You—"

"Your paws are cute but my claws are ugly and dangerous, Edward." he cut in. "She suffers either way—in my house or out of my house. Or in any corner of this world. No one messes with what's mine and lives."

Pure rage crossed his father's face, bubbling too loud that Edward could hear it from miles away. He knew he meant every word he said.

"What else did you offer her?" Edward asked, wanting the grim night to be over. "Beside her mom."

"I offered her to marry you," he said. "It's about time I start marrying my children. Starting from the elder son."

"Your son?" he scoffed, not wanting to indulge in another topic. "You won't be able to force her. Neither would I let you."

"Either is fine by me." He replied, diverting his eyes to the other corner of the hall where Estella chatted with her friend. "It's just that I prefer to have her in our little cage-like home. She'll be more gullible, you know," he now looked at Edward with a pinned look as he continued. "And the perfect means to keep my favorite asset in line."

Edward felt like he was surrounded by spears from all sides and no matter what move he made, he was bound to get hurt and lose something in the process.