Chapter Thirty-One | The Box
Online classes are weird.
Firstly, who the hell in their right mind came up with the idea that someone teaching a class virtually was a good idea? Second, everything here is prerecorded meaning if I have a question about something there's no one to ask. I've never been the type to struggle when it comes to academics. I've always been able to grasp any concept within minutes, but these online classes were kicking my ass.
"I suppose you don't know how to properly solve systems of linear inequalities, do you Harry?" I turned in the spinning office chair, asking my family's personal chauffeur.
Harry didn't talk much and this time was no different as he only sent me a blank stare, before turning his attention back to whatever the hell he stares at when we're stuck in my father's office at headquarters. Harry has been working with us since I was seven and I don't think I've ever heard him mumble a word. He's a quiet man and I don't mind because when he's driving me around here and there I don't have to worry about a conversation like I do when I would ride ubers.
I'm pretty sure he's annoyed with me though because of the number of times I've had him driving back and forth from home to headquarters back home to the local grocery store so I can pick up snacks. Honestly, if there's anyone Harry needs to be upset with it's my father for even designating him as my full-time driver and calling me up every hour to come to the company to sit and do nothing.
He says it's to make sure I'm doing my school work but I know it's because he doesn't trust me and feels I'll run away from home and run off with Asher somewhere far far away.
And I would, but I hate running.
"Why won't you just let me assign one of the interns to help you out with your work Liam?" My father's voice sounded off from the other side of the office as he fixed his tie in the mirror positioned over the liquor cabinet.
The sound of his voice made me a scowl and I didn't even fight the upturn of my lips as I stared at him across the room. "I don't need any help from you or your interns," I replied.
My father chuckled to himself lowly as he fixed himself a glass of signature drink — Scotch on the rocks. He glanced up at me through the mirror and his piercing blue eyes almost cut another scratch on my face. "You don't need my help," He repeated my words like there were something from a comedy novel. "You don't need my help, you say from my office chair, my office, my company, wearing the clothes that I bought you.
I scoffed, arms folded and head turned in the opposite direction. "I don't need anything from you."
"Keep telling yourself that Liam," He whipped around taking a sip from his glass. "I don't know how long you plan on keeping this little hissyfit going on because I took away a few privileges, but you need to get over it soon. We have important business to handle."
"A few privileges? You took away my rights! I can't even go to the corner store without having someone with me at all times. I'm a prisoner."
My father let out another chuckle, this one more humorous than the last. "A prisoner with a million-dollar roof over his head. Listen to how you sound. You hear this boy Harry?"
Harry didn't answer and instead just shook his head. I gasped at him as my father made his way over to me at his desk placing his half-drunken glass in front of me. "Hopefully by the time I come back from this meeting your attitude has simmered down, and you can talk to me like an adult and not like a child."
"Will you let me see Asher if I do?" I questioned him, already knowing the answer, but I asked anyway just to piss him off.
"Not even on my deathbed would I allow that," My father's eyes locked with mine for a moment before he quickly downed the rest of his drink, exhaling a breath right after. He shot Harry a knowing look and Harry knowingly grabbed my father's coat from the coatrack and placed it on him. "You may not understand what I'm doing for you now, but in the future, you'll see that everything I've done for you was for a reason. I only want the best for you, Liam, honestly." His eyes softened a bit and for a moment he actually looks like my father again, but then he blinked and started to make his way outside the office, Harry trailing behind him.
"I'll be back soon." He sighed, closing the door behind himself. I stood there with my arms folded, head shaking in disappointment.
I could hear the locks of the door turning from the other side. I ran to the door handle, quickly trying to yank it open. "You can't keep me locked away like some prisoner!" I banged against the door yelling. I banged and banged until my fist had reddened and my throat dried.
I didn't realize I was crying until I looked down at my tear-stained khakis. As much as I tried to hold it in, the sorrow came out like an uproar from my throat in the form of a silent scream. The beads of water started falling one after another, without a sign of stopping. I hit the wall and tried to scream, but my voice was melted by the sound of the four walls of the office.
I buried my knees in my chest and rested my chin on my knees, my back up against the door. A shudder ran through me. Trapped. I was trapped. I was confined within the walls of this room. I felt claustrophobic. There's nothing in this tiny room but my heartbeat and soft cries.
"Ugh, you gotta stop crying all the time. My face is gonna be so red and puffy after this." I told myself, fanning away my tears. I thought back to when Asher made me cry in middle school after pushing me into some bushes. He said I had the same crying face like Kim Kardashian.
He's such an asshole. I miss him.
Suddenly, a soft humming sounded off from outside and I immediately snapped out of my thoughts and got up from the floor. With my brows raised, I pressed an ear against the door to get a better listen. It was silent for a moment but then the humming started back up again and this time a little louder than before. At first, I thought it was Asher coming to rescue me and put me of my misery, but then I remembered Asher wouldn't even be allowed 300 meters from the company let alone manage to get inside.
That's when I realized the humming was indeed coming from someone with a deep voice but not as deep and smooth as Ashers. It wasn't long before I realized there were humming a song in Spanish. I understood it, thankfully, but who the hell is up here when my father isn't even here? The top floor is strictly reserved for the CEO and family members only. Not even the staff is allowed up here without permission.
"Quién está ahí," Who's there? My pronunciation is a little rusty, but I spoke loud enough that I'm sure whoever was on the other end of the door heard me no problem.
"Oh shit," I heard them whisper to themselves. "Mr. Claremont?"
I blinked at the familiarity of the voice. No way.
"No, it's Liam. Is this-" I didn't even get to finish my sentence before I heard him kiss his teeth and laugh to himself a little. "Liam? What the fuck are you doing here?" Corbin's voice ranged from the other side and I could picture him with his brows raised annoyingly.
"Um, this is kinda my dad's company." I rolled my eyes and I know he did the same. "What the hell are you doing up here? No ones allowed up here when he's not present."
"I tagged along with my momma for work today. Sometimes I like to sneak up here when your old man away handling business." He casually told, and I couldn't help but shake my head.
"You aren't gonna rat me out to your daddy, are you? I know you don't like me and to be quite honest, I can't stand your ass either but my mom needs this job-"
I sighed. "I'm not gonna rat you out, Corbin."
"You aren't?"
"No," I prolonged the word. "Now can you please unlock this door? It's weird talking to something without a face."
I heard Corbin chuckle to himself from the other side before he started to fumble with the locks on the door. "What the fuck kind of door is this? Where's the key? I think that's the only way I can get in." He questioned as he struggled.
"It's burglar-proof." I exhaled a sigh, mentally slapping myself. How could I forget my father got his office revamped to stop any invasions.
"Aye, hold up." Corbin quipped from the other side. It was silent for a moment and after a minute or two, the door swung open to reveal Corbin with a hairpin in between his two front teeth. He looked up at me and playfully winked and I looked at him in surprise.
"How did you learn to do that?" I asked him, as he walked into the office. He turned to me and shook his head. "You don't wanna know." He answered, and I took his word for it.
Corbin walked around the office like he's been in here a couple of times and something tells me has. His fingers danced against my father's mahogany desk and he practically twirls over to the liquor cabinet on the other side of the room. His comfortable-ness startled something in me.
"How often do you sneak up to my father's office?" I ask him, leaning against the desk with my arms folded across my chest.
Corbin tilts his head from side to side as if contemplating the answer. "Only a few times. Maybe like five or six, but it's never to do anything devious. I just like taking naps up here."
He turned to me and pursed his lips. "Don't look at me like that. My momma works her ass off for this company and gets nothing in return. Me taking a nap in her bosses office isn't hurting a soul."
Corbin throws himself on one of the leather couches and rests his arms behind his head. "Why are you here? I get this is sorta like your company too, but I thought you were like on house arrest or something?"
"House arrest?" I raised a brow at him.
"Hey," He threw his hands up in defense. "That's what Ryder has been going around school saying. He said the reason you got taken out of Stratford was for your abusive behavior towards Imani and her family like sued your ass."
I blinked at him. "None of that is true. I never abused anyone."
"I figured that, but you may wanna talk to your friends because they've been cutting up since you left. Ryder thinks he runs the school now. He's like a blonde Hitler, just with less murder and more elitism."
Ryder. That fucking snake. I should've known something wasn't right about him from the start. I can't believe him. He was my best friend and to see this whole he just wanted to take my spot makes me sad. I can't even lie.
"Asher misses you like hell," Corbin randomly blurts and my eyes widen at his words. "He doesn't mention it but you can tell by his whole demeanor. It's like someone ripped a piece of his soul out and scattered the pieces so he'll never be able to find them."
"How do you know?" Was all I could ask.
Corbin looked over at me with a knowing look, that common "bitch, really" look people give their friends. "It's not rocket science to see what was going on between the two of you. I'm sure some other people know or at least have a few assumptions, but it wasn't until that day on the cruise that I put it all together."
I walked over to him. "You were there?"
"Yep," He said, popping the P. "Serving the crab cakes as your daddy went ballistic on Asher's dad because he caught you two doing something."
I felt my cheeks heating up at the thought of someone from school — who I don't like, seeing that moment unfold the way it did. Embarrassing.
"Look, that's your business. I don't care. Asher's a cool dude and you're . . . you," Corbin shrugged, hopping up off the couch and making his way over to the many cabinet doors that aligned my father's office.
"I just think it's kinda lame how everyone's reacting about it. It's the 21st-century. Let people be happy for crying out loud. A million other problems going on in the world and y'all worried about boys who kiss other boys? I'll never understand it." Corbin ranted, rummaging through my father's liquor collection.
I took a seat on the edge of the couch and watched him as he searched for whatever he was looking for. "That isn't why our parents don't want us together. My dad supports the LGBTQ community. Our vice-chairmen is trans and one of my father's favorite workers. The problem is something family-related. Something that happened decades ago that no one can seem to let go."
"Your old man's taste in alcohol is terrible. Where's the Dussé? The Pink Whitney?" Corbin kissed his teeth, before turning back to me and nodding. "Oh, I'm listening. Go on, family issue, decades ago."
"It's too much to explain and to be quite honest, I don't even completely understand it myself. I just know that I was taught to hate the Montgomerys and they were taught to hate me." I shrugged.
Corbin stood on his tippy-toes now, half his upper body practically in my father's cabinet. "Jackpot!" I heard him cheer, and I rolled my eyes. "I should charge you for rummaging through my father's stuff and drinking his alcohol."
"Aw boo-hoo, tell him to stop underpaying my momma, and maybe I'll reconsider." He stuck his tongue out at me as he pulled something out of the cabinet.
I was confused when I saw it was a box. It wasn't just any box. It resembled something of a jewelry box. The box was a mini treasure chest by design, antique-looking with gold carvings and pearls outlining the sides. A pink stone perfectly placed in the middle. It wasn't until Corbin twisted it around in the light did I see the cursive carving of the letter M inside the stone.
"What kind of liquor do you think is in here?" Corbin questioned, shaking the box frantically placing it closer to his ear.
I quickly grabbed his arm to stop him before he broke whatever was inside. "I don't that's liquor in there, idiot."
Corbin turned to me, his eyes locking on mine for only a moment. "Well, let's find out shall we?" He chuckled, reaching into his pant pocket and pulling out that hairpin he used to let himself in the office.
I stopped his hand. "Maybe we should just mind our business? Leave it alone."
"Did your daddy say that when he caught you and Asher sucking each other faces on the boat? Girl, move!" He knocked away my hand and went back to picking the gold lock that guarded the box.
Watching Corbin pick the lock of the mystery box made my anxiety shoot through the roof. Why? I don't exactly know. It wasn't like I knew what was in the box. I've never seen it before in my life and I've been coming to this office since I could walk. I've explored every nook and cranny, but not hard enough I guess. My father was a man of many secrets but an antique jewelry box didn't seem his style.
Corbin opened the box to expose the red velvet cushion inside and I felt my breath hitch in my throat.
"No fucking way,"
••••
Excuse any mistakes or errors
It's the cliffhanger for me lol