Aug. 26, 2016 A/N: This is a repost because this journal entry has been having problems. I can see it perfectly fine on my iPad but it seems to be missing everywhere else. 

Let me know if you're still having problems.

Thanks!

***

I am so bloody tired.

You know how Atlas felt when he had the world on his shoulders? Imagine it felt like that except it's almost an entire universe instead of one little planet.

I'm used to some level of crisis management. After all, I deal in a vast variety of commodities and stocks—in a multi-billion dollar scale. There's always something going wrong. If nothing's going wrong, then something's wrong.

But with one crisis after another this week, I feel like bashing my head through a wall. But I can't because as Brandon Maxfield, the only way out of a crisis is resolving it. And I can't say I've had terrible luck with it before. In fact, I excelled at problem-solving. But the stakes now are way higher than they've ever been. One wrong move and I could lose the people I cared about—people I had to shelter from the greed that's eating at my cousin like cancer.

At a visit with Dad after the Championettes brunch, he told me that he was officially retiring at the end of the year. I was going to be named the newest CEO. While that was something I've always wanted for a long time, and the very thing that drove me to Marlow's to find the girl that suddenly became critical in securing that title, I wasn't buzzing with excitement. It meant a few things I wasn't sure I was ready for yet. First, it meant accepting the fact that Dad is finally getting too old to rule his empire. Second, I'd have to deal with even bigger responsibilities that would demand so much of my time and attention—two things I'd happily devote majority of to Charlotte, and maybe our own new family, for at least a few years. But there's nothing to be done about it now.

Then the first day back to work, just when I finally had some interest in dealing with the threat Simone warned me about, Francis showed up, strutting to a seat across from me with the smugness of a man who already believes he's won.

He appeared empty-handed but I knew he had something the moment he recited a clause in my contract with Charlotte word for word. Then he pulled a folded photocopy from his pocket and carelessly tossed it on my desk .

That son of a—.

I'm not going to finish that statement because that will be disrespectful to my dead aunt but I very much want to put Francis into the ground next to her. The bastard knows about my deal with Charlotte, no doubt about it. I'm not nearly as surprised as I should be that he does. The question I'm more interested in is how.

Francis has been trying for some time now to find leverage against me. I've just always managed to be a step or two ahead of him. And there had been no dirt for him to find—until I struck an unconventional deal with Charlotte and suddenly found myself with something of immense value to lose.

There are a lot of things Francis would want for whatever leverage he could find. Knowing he'd take his time as a predator would with his prey before it went for the kill, I just sat back and waited for him to start.

But surprisingly, he only asked for one thing.

And unfortunately, it's the one thing that's not negotiable.

I'll admit it now that I'm overprotective. And that I sometimes go overboard with my attempts. But in my defense, I did what I thought was best at that time, not knowing whether Francis was going to spiral down even farther into a hell of his own making where he'd be in too deep to even know he's taking others along with him into the fire.

Nicole was such a nice, sweet girl when I first met her. She was the kind of person who didn't know how to be unhappy. I was fond of her right away and at that time, I saw no harm in seeing if there was more about her to like but Francis, as competitive as ever, pushed his way ahead and swept her off her feet. Too bad he was really just a ninety-day prince charming. Worse, Nicole had already fallen for his charms long before they lost their shiny veneer. I don't know if he'd even loved her then. What I do know is that in the short time they were together, Nicole stopped being happy.

When she came to tell me about her pregnancy, I knew, before she could even tell me exactly how Francis felt about that development, that she was only there because she had no one else to turn to. So no, while I can't confirm, I don't think Francis loved her at all. He could't possibly do so when he only loves himself and the grand life he'd planned—the kind where his reckless actions bore no consequences and things just happened at the snap of his fingers. He saw Nicole and their unborn child as nothing more than a drag that'll hold him back. Which is why he'd so callously suggested she get rid of the problem.

Sure, unwanted pregnancies pose many problems but the child isn't one. Others can disagree with me on this, and that's fine, but I think that just like each one of us, the child doesn't get a choice to be born—or choose which family to be born into. It's hardly fair to make it suffer a fate it had no hand in making just so the adults can go off scot-free, barely held back by any kind of recriminations to possibly just repeat the mistake in the near future. And yes, both Francis and Nicole were on this together. It takes two to tango, after all. I would've respected their decision, and I'd rather not know if their choice isn't the one I would make if it were me, but it's still something they should've both worked on. One person doesn't get to just kick someone to the curb because playtime is over and real adult life is now back on.

Not only did Francis not own up to his share of the blame, he just decided to be rid of Nicole completely and leave her to fate. Suddenly, my plan to distance her from my cousin—got her a nice house and a small help staff to see to her comfort—didn't seem too much at that time. There was absolutely nothing that Francis would've done for her. Not even put a roof on her head. I had to hunt her down in that shelter in the middle of an arctic winter where she was going to spend the night cold, hungry, hurt and very pregnant.

I had enough of Francis's treatment of a woman who deserved none of his hostility, mistake or not. He wasn't going to man up but someone had to for the child and its lost and lonely young mother. I would want someone to do the same for my sisters if they ever find themselves in a situation like that. My mother and Evelyn would set me a place in hell if I, too, abandoned a woman like that. My father would send me there in short order.

So just as you would save someone from a spreading infection by amputating the bad limb, I cut Francis out of Nicole's life for good. I sent Francis packing to London and did what I could to keep Nicole on low profile until she could move somewhere else to start a new life with the baby. I saw Zach on the day he was born, all small and wrinkly and completely helpless, and I swore then and there that he would live his life in peace. He wouldn't know his father but then he also wouldn't know the contempt a parent should never feel for his child for his inconvenient arrival. I only know of loving parents. I wouldn't accept the alternative for any child if there was another choice. Thinking about it now, this is probably another reason that infuriated me about Charlotte's childhood. She'd known nothing but the alternative.

And just when I thought Nicole and Zach were safely living new lives in Vermont, Francis started to rattle in his cage, demanding information about them that he felt only he had the right to.

He had the right to nothing but the foot he deserved in the mouth for his nerve. Nerve to go hot and cold on his very serious responsibilities. Nerve to walk away without a care in the world but always with the option to change his mind about it. Nerve to be angry that someone stepped in to clean up after him and that someone had to be me. Never sure exactly of how far he would go to just spite me—because I don't think there's any other reason he would want Nicole and Zach now other than to just trip me up in my efforts to protect them—I took all measures possible to ensure they were as far from his reach as possible.

That is, until the contract found its way into Francis's possession.

And until Nicole wrote out of nowhere that she was back in Boston, finally done hiding and fully certain that Francis has forgotten about them now.

I'm genuinely happy for her and Zach because lately, after contemplating my own situation with Charlotte, I've wondered about what the two were missing out, living a complicated lie in fear of the truth and its recriminations.

But this is frankly the most awful timing.

With Francis in town, more aggressive than he's ever been now that he has something weighty to hold over my head for the price of information on them, the last thing I wanted was for them to fall right into his hands. I'd originally planned on talking to Nicole first, to see how she felt about Francis's demands, but she beat me to it.

I went to see her and Zach in hopes of convincing her to postpone her reappearance, at least until I've dealt with Francis and sent him back to London.

No, I don't really have a plan yet to get all of us out of this mess but there had to be one—fast. I'm between a rock and a hard place and they're both closing in on me. And they'll crush anyone trapped—Nicole and Zach, my father, my family, and of course, Charlotte.

I have to find a way to protect them somehow.

Nicole and Zach would be back in the mercy of a man who would only ever do anything if it served his plans, regardless of who got hurt along the way. I didn't protect them all this time just to throw them back into the cage with Francis. If they allow him back into their lives, it would have to be under their terms and my watchful eye.

And my father, fresh from a bypass and weaker than he's ever been his entire life, might weather the truth just fine but it would strain him to helplessly watch the consequences that would come from both inside and outside of our family.

The truth might not cause as much damage to Charlotte if it only comes out to the people closest to us because I know they'd understand what really matters. But if Francis hangs it out in public like dirty laundry, it would devastate her. She would be viewed exactly how the Championettes, and the other society snobs, did—an opportunistic gold-digger. Whatever respect she'd gained for herself would be shredded under the weight of the incriminating evidence that yes, she and I only started on this path with a cold and callous business deal worth a million dollars.

But even at the threat of all of this, Charlotte would always choose to sacrifice herself for someone else. Because she's too damn selfless and stubborn like that. She would put herself out there first, in front of the speeding social train, and try to survive it, instead of handing over Nicole and Zach to Francis. Which is the exact reason why I didn't want her knowing about them yet. It's not exactly because I don't trust her. It's actually because I trust her to act exactly as I predict. She would intervene, with the best of intentions, of course, but her solution would be simple—her for them. I personally would like to hand no one over to Francis and tell him to go to hell.

But it won't be that easy.

Charlotte already got into her head that I was in some kind of passionate affair with Nicole. I'm not happy with her spying, although I get it after I decided not to drag her into his until I have a clear end in sight.

She's lived almost twenty years of her life dealing with one problem after another. The kind of life I want her to spend with me is going to be a far cry from that past. I insist on it.

Besides, I'm used to fixing things all the time. It doesn't even really occur to me that there are other options. I'm the type to just sit down with the problem, preferably all by myself in a room, work it out and fix it that no one would even notice there was a problem to begin with. But knowing the kind of woman I married, Charlotte's going to be standing outside the room, beating at the door, demanding entrance. Then she'd probably break out into a song so loud I'd have to open the door to see if she'd lost her mind and she'd just grin up at me and slide right under my nose and straight into the room.

So she's probably right—I need her help.

It's a strange thing, letting her carry some of the weight on her small, dainty shoulders. But my wife is a fierce little thing. I should really remember that, no matter how used I am to my old ways.

But it'll have to wait until I'm back from Virginia where I'm battling another crisis. Once again, I'm reminded that my life is so much larger than I often realize, with more people to look after than I remember. And thinking about it again now, as I lay in bed alone at my hotel room, missing my wife and the real peaceful sleep I only ever find with her, I'm not feeling so weighed down anymore by the gravity of my responsibilities.

Because if Charlotte can endure what she did and still smile about it—even offer her own strength when you think she should be out of it by now—I sure as hell can do the same thing.

- B

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Hope you can continue along to the rest of Brandon's journal!

XOXO,

Ninya