Page 3 of Overdosed: Her Dark Side
“You’re not dying, though. And you won’t anytime soon. So, let’s cut to the chase. Why did you drag us both here?” My tone was as dark as my hurting soul.
Karl cleared his throat. “I’d like to split my companies between you two.”
Anders tensed as he heard the news, but I saw something malicious dancing in my father’s eyes. Something I was all too familiar with. I knew there was more to it. My father had always had a card up his sleeve. None of what he did was without an ulterior motive. He was one wily bastard.
“Here.” He moved a file of documents from a black velvet briefcase with the golden Vergoossen Enterprises Holdings signature sign glimmering on the front. “These are documents legally dividing my companies between the two of you, giving you both a forty percent stake. For now. All you need to do is to sign.”
“What about the remaining twenty percent?”
Karl’s gaze bounced toward Anders. He cocked his head, his hands clasped behind him. His gaze darted back and forth between us. “I’ll keep them until one of you settles down. The one who marries first will get the major share and become the new CEO of Vergoossen Enterprises Holdings. And all the concealed power it entails.”
A scoff escaped my mouth. Did he really believe I would partake in this shitshow? His twisted mind must’ve achieved its peak today.
“Do you think it’s medieval or what?” I shrugged my arms, my hands clasped. “I’m not going to marry only to take over your companies, fortune, and mafia. I don’t give a damn.”
Karl kept his poker face firmly in place, but I could see the anger brewing beneath the surface.
I turned, making my way toward the exit.
“That’s a terrific idea.” Anders grasped my arm tightly.
My eyes shut for a brief moment, and I took a deep breath. “Are you serious?” I narrowed my eyes at him, and I shook my head. My gaze shifted toward Karl. “I don’t need your companies, nor this ridiculous rivalry. I don’t need your power, Father. I’m good on my own.”
Karl’s jaw clenched; his throat cleared. “I’m aware you don’t need me, son.” His tone was displeased yet poised. “Nevertheless, you’re still one of my heirs, and I want you to be a part of this family and my legacy.”
Our gazes fought for dominance.
“Shane will agree.” Anders’ determination took me aback.
My brows furrowed. My gaze moved to him. “Why do you want this so badly?”
A sneaky sneer curled up his lips. “It’s the first time Father gives us an equal chance to win the position rather than handing it over to the chosen one.”
“The chosen one?” My brow raised. “So, that’s what this is all about? You want to compete with me?” I shook my head, squeezing the bridge of my nose. I was wondering when this would end. Would it ever?
Anders had always regarded me as a competitor. He always thought of himself as second-best, frantically trying to prove his value to me, our father. Perhaps, even himself.
He strolled over the wooden table and opened the file of papers. He swept through the pages and without even reading, he signed it. “Forget about the marriage part for now.” He handed me the quill. “Let’s just run the companies and see which one is doing better.”
His gaze bore into mine.
“Do it for me, brother,” Anders pleaded.
I grabbed the quill and tossed it back onto the table.
“Shane!” Anders hissed after me as I walked away.
I felt sad for him. He could never accept himself. I supposed he’d feel better if he won this battle. But I wasn’t fighting against him. He was up against himself all this time. Against his damaging pride and deadly ego. In the end, it was what would destroy him.
I entered my apartment that, without Melanie, seemed empty, like a desolate desert. I hadn’t moved. I couldn’t. I held onto the thought that one day she would walk in through the door as she used to—forgetting all that had torn us apart, all the demons of our past—and would run to me, nuzzling her beautiful face in my chest. A fool’s wish. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get her out of my head. My heart.
On a lonely night like this, she was the oxygen I inhaled, the large full moon seeping into my flat through the window, even though I closed the curtains. I saw her everywhere, even though she was only a memory… merely an elusive creation of my mind that faded with the sunrise, ripping through my bones. She was every sip of whiskey I’d drank to numb my misery, knowing even the sea of alcohol would not help me forget her. A harem full of women could not give me the feeling of Melanie—a feeling I could compare to nothing. I’d been there. I tried any way I could to forget her, to erase her from my mind. All in vain. She was like an oasis I needed to reach to regain my peace. There was nothing in this world that could replace her. She completely and utterly overpowered each of my senses. I held tight to a love that cut deeper than the thorns protecting a beautiful crimson rose I once tried to pluck.
I would bleed out dry just for one more chance to talk to her. A chance to tell her how much I loved her; how much I regretted all the faults that led me to lose her. I wish I could tell her how much I regretted agreeing to take part in my father’s vendetta against her father. How much I wish I could turn back in time to the night we met on that empty street when I nearly hit her with my car when I still saw her solely as my target, my task, my enemy. I wish I could tell her how soon, despite my initial intentions, I’d developed feelings for her. How the innocence in her and her vulnerability drew me to her. I’d understood the pain she was going through in her strained relationship with her parents and manipulative boyfriend, and how much I could relate. I soon realized she wasn’t my nemesis but my redemption. She was the only woman I had ever truly loved. She made me believe in love because before there was her, I’d lived in a world where only power mattered. I would’ve done everything differently. But now, it was too late.
I chatted with my younger half-sister, Aaliyah, at my father’s annual charity event. Amidst the stuffy atmosphere of the New York elite, she seemed the most vibrant and exciting person, to me, at least. I hated these sorts of social gatherings. It seemed like such a waste of time—a pretentious display of wealth and status or superficial gossiping, belittling those not part of the circle. I was a fan of neither. The only reason I was present was because it was my family’s tradition, and the funds gathered each year went to a worthy cause.
I turned, formulaically scanning the room, when I saw a woman with waves of silk-like hair, darker than I remembered it, but the same texture from my dreams. A mirage that I thought would disappear. But it didn’t.
