It's wrong. It's forbidden. It's taboo.

The man I married loves another, but I'm even worse, because I want his father.

Tiptoeing around the house just to be with him is sinful.

But, I don't see anything wrong with that, because what we have is beautiful.

_________________________________________

Charlotte is my greatest temptation, but she also just might be my salvation.

She might be Sebastian's wife, but really, she's was always meant to be mine.

Sebastian:

The sound of the vase crashing reverberates in my ears. My hand feels numb from hefting it and subsequently throwing it against the wall.

"I told you I love Adeline! How the fuck could you do this?"

"Watch your tone when you talk to me, boy."

"I. Am. Not. A. Boy." I seethe.

"Then stop acting like one."

"I'm not marrying some random bitch." The words come out through gritted teeth.

"You will, and mind that language." He says calmly, with that fucking stoic face he never changes.

I cross my arms across my chest and smirk.

"I will do no such thing."

He pulls out a sheet of paper from his thick, black folder and slides it over to me with one manicured fingernail. He makes a point to get a manicure every week.

I grab the sheet and skim over the words. When I'm done, I crumple it in my fist and try to turn his table over. Stupid move on my part. The thing is made of Lignum Vitae.

"When you're done embarrassing yourself, you're free to leave my office."

"Threatening my inheritance is a low blow, even for you. No wonder Mom left you."

The silence rings in my ears as his eyes flash with something imperceptible.

"Get out of my office."

With my heart crashing against my chest, I slam his office door shut. I know the aftermath will be bad because I've just stepped on a land mine.

Fucking hell.

______________________________________

I park my Bentley in front of Adeline's building and go straight to her penthouse, without greeting the doorman, Steve, like I usually do.

I knock and wait for her to open. It takes a minute, but her familiar face greets me. Minimal make-up, but bold, red lipstick. My favorite.

She has a matching, short, silky red robe on that's slipping off one of her shoulders.

My cock hardens. It's then I notice her eyes. They're rimmed red.

"Baby, don't cry."

I step inside and hug her to my chest. She smells like Vodka. I hear a small sniffle.

"Daddy's marrying me off to someone."

"Fuck. My Dad is doing the same."

She sobs harder and I regret telling her. I should have waited.

"Sebastian, I can't do this. I can't live without you."

I slide my fingers through her shiny blonde hair.

"Shh. It's going to be okay. I'll find a way."

"Do you know who your Dad arranged for you to marry?"

Another sniffle. "Lance Harrington."

"Shit Addy. Harrington?"

I take her face in my hands and look down at her.

"Listen to me baby. Harrington is a weasel. Easy to manipulate. You can mold him in no time."

She furrows her perfectly plucked brows.

"What?"

"What I mean to say is, neither of us can get out of these marriages. I say we make the best out of it. Gain Lance's trust, manipulate him, mold him to your liking. We'll still be able to continue our relationship."

She wipes her eyes, determination set in them.

"What about you?"

"I'll do the same. She'll wish she never married me."

"Who is she?"

"I don't know yet, but I'll find out."

I look at her closer and she turns her face away from me.

"Adeline. Show me." My voice comes out stern.

"Don't order me around Seb."

"Please." I say through clenched teeth.

She finally turns to me again, but her gaze won't meet mine.

I see the fine, white particles in her nose.

"What the fuck Adeline? I thought you got rid of it all?"

"I was stressed Seb." She whines. It grates on my ears.

"You know I hate it when you lie Adeline."

"Well, what was I supposed to do? It was just a small line."

"Since when have you started using again?"

"This is the first time in three months. Believe me."

I nod. "I do. But please, just tell me the truth from next time."

"Fine." She rolls her eyes.

"Come on. I believe we have something to do."

I pick her up and carry her to the bedroom, fucking her into the night.

It's where I stay till then next morning p. I'm not in the mood to be in the same house as that selfish bastard.

______________________________________

The next morning, I park my car in front of my house, which is more like a mansion, if anything.

He's given me riches, wealth, and power, but he forgot to give me the most important thing. My heart. Neither do I have my mother, nor the woman I love.

My mother refuses to step foot into this house. I don't know if it's her own decision, or someone is barricading her.

The worst part is, that I can only meet her for a few hours at a time. Again, the money is always a fucking noose around my neck. Sometimes, I contemplate cutting it off, but that would be foolish of me.

Money makes the world spin and you're nothing without it. The more you have of it, the more you have of everything else.

Anthony Crosswalk, my father, is richer than God.

Crosswalk Industries is a Fortune 500 company and it's his 'baby'.

I freeze as I step through the threshold.

"Meet your future wife son. Charlotte Daymond."

I shouldn't have come back here so soon. My father ignores my death glare and simply looks at his gold Rolex watch. I gave it to him for his 42nd birthday, which was a few months ago.

"Quick introductions would be pleasant Sebastian. Some people have places to be."

I grit my teeth and direct my glare on the Daymond girl. Realistically, I know she doesn't deserve it. But, she could have done something, anything, to get out of this marriage.

I have to say, my father landed himself quite a deal. Daymond Diamonds is known for its exquisite diamonds all over America.

The fact that Charles Daymond has a daughter about my age is just sour luck.

I'm surprised he's not marrying me off to some old hag. He'd go through any length just to elevate himself.

"Sebastian Crosswalk, but I'm sure you already know that. I don't care who you are and I don't want to know either. Farewell."

I go to the climb the stairs.

"Sebastian, come back down here." His voice increases a few octaves, but I ignore it and continue climbing up the stairs.

Charlotte:

I see something flash through Anthony Crosswalk's eyes as his son ignores him.

I look away when he glances down at me. Goosebumps rise on my skin as I feel his gaze on me. He is an intimidating man.

"Excuse him. He's not used to not getting what he wants."

I appreciate his honesty, despite his words.

"It's alright Mr. Crosswalk. If he loves someone else, why not get married to her?"

"I'm sure you of all people know how our world works, Ms. Daymond. We don't marry for love. It is a mere abstract concept. Marriage is just a tactful strategy to further improve our businesses."

I shake my head vehemently, completely at odds with his words, but I know it's useless arguing with men of his power. Men like my father. They're thick headed and refuse to listen to what the other person has to say. If Sebastian's childhood was anything like mine, then I feel sorry for him.

Everyone knows about Anthony Crosswalk and his ruthless reputation. I could guess having him as a father is not an easy feat, so I don't hold Sebastian's rude behavior against him.

"Well, I guess I should leave now. It was nice meeting you Mr. Crosswalk."

It wasn't a pleasure to meet you. My heart was pounding furiously the entire time and if I stay any longer, I may risk the chance of getting a heart attack.

"My intention was not for you to meet me. It was for you to meet my son. I could have closed a deal in this time."

I look down at my shoes. I can't help but think it's all my fault. Maybe I could have dressed up nicer. Put on more make-up. Made an effort. But, at the same time, he could have told his son to put some effort too.

"I should go now." I inform him and abruptly take my leave.

"Franco." I smile at my driver.

"Where to, Ms. Daymond?"

"Let's go to the boutique."

"Very well."

We exit the gates of the Crosswalk household and enter the familiar traffic of New York.

My wedding boutique, Charlotte's Secrets, located in SoHo, attracts all brides. It's all about the location, after all. We're a boutique and wedding planning combined.

I thank Franco and exit the car. I take a moment to appreciate the chic, yet rustic building. My life's work. With a bright smile on my face, I step inside, and the air conditioning slaps me in the face, cooling my heated skin.

"Good morning Ms. Charlotte."

"Just Charlotte is fine Harper. Any new customers?"

I hear her click away on the keyboard.

"Two actually. One is supposed to meet you in the afternoon. Precisely at three o'clock."

"Perfect. I'll be in my office if you need me for anything."

She nods and I go into my office cabin at the back. Dropping my handbag on the loveseat, I sit down in my chair and start up my computer.

Just as I'm about to open our accounts, I get a call from father dearest.

I pick up on the first ring because God forbid, Charles Daymond even wait a second.

"Charlotte." His stern voice rings out.

"Father." I greet softly.

"Have you met Sebastian Crosswalk?"

"More like his father."

"Anthony?"

"Yes, father. Anthony Crosswalk. Look Dad, Sebastian is in love with someone else. Why do I have to marry him?" I hold my breath for his response, which I expect won't be too nice.

"Who he loves is irrelevant. Me and Anthony will both benefit from this union. We have both agreed upon it, and that is what is most important."

With a frown, I say, "Yes, Father."

"I know you're frowning. Stop that."

I let out a deep breath and focus on the conversation.

"How's Mom?"

His tone immediately changes into a soft, loving one.

"She's wonderful. Worries about you everyday. You should come visit this weekend."

His words create a pang in my chest. I miss her so much.

"I'll try my best to."

"Daymonds don't try Charlotte. They do. You are a Daymond and this is the least I expect from you."

"Yes, father. I have to go. Take care."

"The same goes to you Charlotte."

I hang up and sigh heavily, resting my chin on my palm. How is it going to be to plan my own wedding? One that I don't want. One that the groom, himself doesn't want. A wedding that, only our fathers want for us.

I shake my head of those thoughts and focus on work.

By the end of the day, I'm beat and before I go, I tell Harper to clear my schedule for the weekend.

What Father wants, Father gets.

I look down at my phone to book a flight to Arkansas. I could use Dad's private jet, but I don't think it's worth taking the jet just for one passenger.

When I step outside, I collide with someone and my phone crashes to the ground.

"Mr. Crosswalk, what are you doing here?" I ask as I bend to pick up my phone, checking for cracks.

Anthony Crosswalk looks at me through narrowed eyes. He and his son share the same bone structure. High cheekbones and a sharp jawline. Whereas his son's jaw is peppered with stubble, Anthony has a neatly trimmed beard.

"I came to see how my future daughter-in-law's business looks like. Maybe I'd even buy it if I like it well enough."

Rare anger bubbles in my chest at his words, so with the sweetest smile on my face, I say,

"I'm sorry Mr. Crosswalk, but it's not for sale."

I see his lips quirk up in the faintest of smiles, before it's gone. It makes me wonder if it was just my imagination.

"Where are my manners? Come. I'll show you around."

So, I make introductions between him and Harper and show him around. The wedding dress section, the trial section, my office, and the brainstorming section. It's like a sun room really, with glass walls, a high vaulted ceiling, plants and warm colored lights.

By the time I'm done showing him around, I don't know whether he's impressed or not.

His sharp ringtone cuts through my thoughts. He picks it up on the second ring and listens to what the other person says.

"What do you mean?"

I watch different emotions flit across his face. Disbelief, hurt, disappointment, and finally anger.

"I trusted you with this, and you sabotage me for what? All because I won't allow you to marry a no good whore?"

Ah, so that must be his son. Whatever Sebastian says makes Anthony's eyes flare.

"Sebastian!" He shouts his name with such high volume, that I flinch and a lock of his black hair falls on his forehead, that, which had been previously neatly gelled back.

He catches my flinch through his peripheral vision and places his hand on top of my head. His gesture is shocking, because I can only assume he's trying to reassure me.

When he ends the call, he removes his hand from my head and brushes the lock of hair away from his forehead.

"Excuse me. I'll have to go now."

My tongue is too twisted to form any words, so I just nod and watch him walk to his car, get into the driver's side, and drive off.

Anthony:

"Charlotte's parents have invited us to lunch at their place. Clear your schedule for the weekend."

He crosses his arms over his chest, an arrogant look on his face. When he does that, all I can see is Della, and I prefer not to remember her.

"Who said I'm going?"

"Sebastian. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"I'm not going. You can drag me, but I don't think you'd succeed."

I may be taller than my son, but he's buffer.

I can't threaten his inheritance for every miniscule thing. That is the one card I have already used.

"Why don't you get to know Charlotte? She's smart and successful." I don't say that she's beautiful, since it may not be age appropriate of me.

I only want the best for Sebastian.

"But she's not Adeline." He counters and I almost lose it.

"So you want Charlotte to be a whore?"

He smacks the wall in anger, looking like the spitting image of me. Every time I look at myself in my bathroom mirror at night. The same anger and hatred in his eyes.

"She. Is. Not. A. Whore." He seethes and I decide to calm myself down first. She doesn't possess a magic pussy, so I fail to understand how he's so caught up in her web.

"I don't care to chat about your wh-Adeline." I catch myself before the word whore slips out again.

"It's a request Sebastian. They want to meet their future son-in-law."

"I'm actually busy this weekend. I'll pay them a visit next weekend."

I narrow my eyes at that. "Do I have your word Sebastian?"

He rolls his eyes. "Yes, sir. I have to go."

I walk into my study about to tell Charles we won't be able to make it, but stop myself. Declining a first invitation is never good.

I dial Charles's number and wait for him to pick up. He does on the third ring.

"Anthony. You will be making it this weekend, correct?"

"Mr. Daymond, I will be making it, but unfortunately, my son has to attend a business meeting in London, so he won't be able to make it."

"That's fine, and stop with the Mr. Daymond. Call me Charles. We are to be in-laws soon, after all."

It's odd to call him Charles, considering the fact that he's a near stranger to me, but I relent.

"Alright Charles."

"How will you be arriving?"

"I'll bring my private jet."

"Would you mind bringing Charlotte with you?"

My eyebrows scrunch on their own.

"Of course not."

I hear a faint sigh.

"Thank you. She doesn't want to use my jet because she says it's a waste of fuel. She always flies commercial."

For some reason, that draws a chuckle out of me.

"It's the least I can do." He thanks me again and we hang up.

______________________________________

Charlotte:

I jolt awake when my phone rings. I run my palm down my face, realizing that I fell asleep on the couch.

I pat the couch, searching for my phone, until my palm wraps around cool metal.

"Hello?"

"Charlotte. I hope you didn't book the plane ticket yet." My Dad's voice makes me sit up on the couch.

"No Father, I was just about to." I was actually sleeping, but he doesn't need to know that. I never did get back to booking the ticket after my collision with Anthony.

"Well don't. I've invited the Crosswalks over. Sebastian will not be able to make it, but Anthony will be coming by himself in his jet. You can join him."

"Oh that's nice Dad, but it's not necessary."

"I wasn't giving you an option Charlotte."

I can literally imagine him raising his eyebrow at me.

"It's really fine Dad. I can come by myself." That sounded extremely dirty, so I correct myself.

"What I mean to say is that I can book a commercial ticket. No big deal."

"You're intimidated by Anthony, aren't you?" His tone is surprisingly mirthful. I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Of course not." I say immediately, giving myself away.

He laughs and my heart warms at that. I wish he laughed more often.

"You should get used to him baby doll. He is going to be your father-in-law and he's one of the best men I know. You know I only choose the best for you."

"But Dad, you chose his son for me." I point out the obvious.

"Of course I did silly girl. What I'm trying to tell you is that a good man will raise a good man. That's all."

"Alright Dad. When do I get ready?"

"I'm sure Anthony will text you the details."

"But he doesn't have my number."

"He's highly resourceful and influential. I'd be surprised if he didn't already have your number."

That sounds wrong on so many levels, but I let it be.

"Goodnight Charlotte."

"Goodnight Dad."

"Oh and Charlotte? Don't work yourself too much."

"Alright Dad." I smile and hang up.

I get off the couch and stretch my muscles, moaning when my shoulders pop. I'll need a good massage one of these days.

I change out of my work clothes into a comfortable oversized shirt. I reheat some macaroni in the microwave and eat it for dinner, considering I'm too tired to cook myself something. I chug down a Sprite with it. When I've finished the can, I burp loud and some of the macaroni comes back up, but I swallow it back down again.

Woah. Not doing that again. Note to self: Don't chug Sprite after eating macaroni. I clean up the dishes and double check the front door locks.

When I'm sure they're locked up nice and tight, I check my windows and once I'm satisfied, I go into my bedroom. I actually wanted a one bedroom apartment, but I decided to get a two bedroom one instead, so it would be convenient if I had any guests over. It's rarely occupied, but I clean it every week.

I switch off the lights, including the lamp, and close the curtains. I shut the closet tight and run to my bed and go under the covers, even covering my face. I don't want a ghost staring back into my eyes if I pull down my covers.

With an image of an ideal wedding dress floating through my mind, I go to sleep.