Shattered

As the author, I would like for you to note that this is not so much a mystery book, as it is a suspenseful book. I have chosen Mystery/Suspense as a subcategory, because of the many cliffhangers that are not answered until later points, when in other stories, they would be revealed immediately. Please keep this in mind as you are reading, for the main theme of this story is most definitely not mystery.

~Meghan J. Grant

The court room doors flew open, and out strutted a tall, dashing figure. 

  Those in the lobby looked over at him in fear, and quickly went back to their business. 

  The man straightened his silk black tie, readjusted his briefcase, and strolled past all of them, a look of pride and importance on his face. His suit was dark and tailored fresh from Joseph A. Bank. His blonde hair was combed perfectly, expressing his youth, but still showing the business appearance he seemed to be choosing. A smug smile was plastered on his face, and his overall aura was one of confidence.

  He left the building, and into the crowded Cleveland streets. Some recognized him, and trembled. Others walked by him without notice. His surrounding environment seemed oblivious to him.

Something was pressing his mind. He did not stop and greet the humble old woman, who wished him a good afternoon. It was already a good afternoon, and the old woman could have one if she wanted.

  He did not slacken his pace for a moment, not even when he made a right turn in front of a building called Consley. He walked as if set on cruise-control, through the revolving doors, and did not stop until he reached the front of the elevator.

  The building's interior was similar to the exterior, in the sense that it was all very modern. The whole of it screamed expensive, and no man nor woman without a tremendous income could afford to even take a step into it.

  The man tapped his black leather shoe impatiently, until the steel doors spread apart. He stepped into it, and did not greet the smiling elevator man. He muttered the word "penthouse" and did not speak another word until the elevator stopped. 

  "Good day, sir," said the elevator man, to which the passenger ignored and stepped out. The elevator closed and was heard returning downstairs. The man fumbled in his briefcase for something, but was interrupted by ruby colored lips pressing onto his, and skinny arms wrapping around his neck.

  The woman wore a red cocktail dress, and looked just as, if not more, important as he did. Her blonde hair was parted down the middle, and fell down to her chest in swift waves. Her eyes were clear and envious, and she smirked when the two broke away.

  "Evening, Cecelia," said the man slyly. The pair entered the door to the penthouse, and the woman called Cecelia spoke once more.

  "I trust you won," she said, her tone not sounding like a question. They entered the kitchen, and she seated herself on a high barstool.

  "Would you expect anything else?" asked the man, placing his briefcase on the marble countertop.

  "Of course not," she said, beaming. "Bradley Worthington never loses."

  "Damn right I don't," said the man called Bradley.

  Cecelia laughed and stood up off of the barstool. She wrapped her arms around his neck once more, and kissed him sloppily.

  "I'm leaving for home tonight, you know," she whispered in between kisses.

  "Yeah," said Bradley quietly.

  "Well?" she said firmly, removing herself from him.

  "Well, what?" asked Bradley, raising his eyebrows.

  "Are you going to miss me?" she asked, or rather, demanded of him.

  "Of course, Celia," he said, but there were lies written in his eyes. She did not notice it seemed, for she gave him one last kiss and skipped off childishly.

   Bradley ran his fingers through his hair, and unbuttoned his suit jacked. 

  "Brad," called Cecelia from another room, "when am I going to meet your family? You have never mentioned them."

  "What?" said Bradley, in a insincerely surprised voice. He entered the bedroom the two shared to find Cecelia throwing clothes into her suitcase. "Oh, well, you know," said Bradley uncomfortably, "they're...busy."

  Cecelia shrugged and began zipping her suitcase.

  Bradley examined himself in the mirror. He had not mentioned his family to Cecelia. It had been months since he had even thought about something like family. When you are the most feared and successful lawyer in practically the whole country, family is the last thing on your mind. Perhaps it was time to change that. They would be forgiving...would they not?

  It had been five years since Bradley had seen or heard from his family. Five years since he left them completely. Five years since he shattered them. All of them.

Author's Note:

Well, this is the beginning of it. I just wanted to give you guys a taste of the main character. As you can tell, he is a very prideful and successful businessman who deserted his family. This story is pretty much about his attempts to restore relationships with them.

Vote and Comment and Fan if you like it! I'll be posting the first legit chapter on January 1st. 

Love, VivaLaPotter