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2026-02-25 16:10:46
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DON'T BEG ME NOW, MR. ARMSTRONG 146
JoanBy the time the workday ended, my head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.The last few weeks had been a constant cycle of meetings, lawyers, evidence, court documents, company matters, and enough stress to last several lifetimes. Even now, with the shares officially transferred and the second hearing approaching, I couldn’t bring myself to relax.Every time I thought I was finally getting somewhere, something else happened.Another document.Another phone call.Another decision.Another reminder that my life had become one long battle.I was reviewing a report for what felt like the hundredth time when my office door opened.Rachel stepped inside.For once, she was smiling.A genuine smile.Not the strained one she used whenever lawyers or Dean showed up.A real one.“You have visitors.”I frowned.“Who?”Her smile widened.“See for yourself.”Before I could ask what she meant, she stepped aside.And suddenly my entire world stopped.“Mommy!”The chair nearly tipped over
DON'T BEG ME NOW, MR. ARMSTRONG 147
DeanIf somebody had told me six months ago that I would one day sit in Joan Lancaster’s office while she discussed my future employment with the same casual authority I’d once used on her, I would’ve laughed in their face.Not a polite laugh.A genuine one.The kind reserved for ridiculous things.Yet there I was.Sitting across from the woman I’d spent years underestimating.Listening to her discuss Human Resources.Human Resources.The words continued echoing inside my head long after she stopped speaking.I wasn’t sure which part insulted me more.The fact that she expected me to work for her.Or the fact that she’d delivered the suggestion with such effortless confidence.As though she’d already accepted that I’d agree.As though she knew I had no other choice.The worst part was that she was right.I hated that.God, I hated it.Every instinct I possessed wanted to tell her exactly what she could do with her job offer.I wanted to stand.Walk out.Remind her who I was.Remind he
DON'T BEG ME NOW, MR. ARMSTRONG 146
For a moment after I told him yes, neither of us spoke.The silence felt different now.Less hostile.Not friendly.Never that.Just exhausted.Like we’d both reached the point where there wasn’t enough energy left for another war.Dean remained seated across from me, staring at the folder that now officially belonged to me.Or would belong to me once the transfer was finalized.The realization still felt surreal.Years ago, if someone had told me I’d one day own a controlling interest in Dean Armstrong’s company, I would’ve laughed in their face.Back then, Dean had seemed untouchable.Larger than life.A man who always got what he wanted.A man who always won.Funny how life worked.Sometimes the very thing you used to control people became the thing that destroyed you.Dean eventually shifted in his chair.The movement pulled me from my thoughts.His eyes met mine.For the first time since he’d entered my office, I noticed something almost hopeful in his expression.It lasted barel
DON'T BEG ME NOW, MR. ARMSTRONG 145
JoanBefore I even saw him, I knew something was wrong.Not wrong in the way things had been wrong lately.Not another scandal.Not another anonymous article.Not another legal notice.Something different.Rachel had called my office ten minutes earlier to tell me Dean Armstrong was downstairs again.Her voice had carried the same nervous hesitation it always did whenever he appeared in the building.The difference was that this time she sounded confused too.“He said he has documents for you.”Documents.The word had immediately made me suspicious.Dean wasn’t a man who handed over anything willingly.Certainly not after yesterday.Certainly not after storming out of my office looking ready to kill someone.And definitely not after I’d asked for the remaining shares in his company.I spent the next ten minutes trying to figure out what game he was playing.By the time Rachel escorted him upstairs, I’d convinced myself there was some sort of catch.A loophole.A trap.A condition hidd
DON'T BEG ME NOW, MR. ARMSTRONG 144
DeanI didn’t remember leaving Joan’s office.One moment I was sitting across from her, listening to her calmly ask for the remaining shares in my company as though she were discussing the weather.The next, I was in an elevator.Then a parking garage.Then my car.The details in between were a blur of anger.Pure, unfiltered anger.The kind that made your hands shake.The kind that made every thought feel sharp enough to draw blood.I gripped the steering wheel and stared through the windshield.My pulse hammered against my ribs.My jaw hurt from how hard I was clenching it.She wanted my company.After everything she’d already taken.After the investors.After the contracts.After the employees.After the investigations.After the articles.After the money.She wanted more.The thought repeated itself over and over as I drove.Like a song stuck in my head.An irritating one.I replayed the conversation countless times.Her expression.Her voice.The way she’d looked at me.Calm.Col
DON'T BEG ME NOW, MR. ARMSTRONG 143
For a long moment after Dean said please, nobody spoke.The silence settled over the room like a heavy blanket.I could hear the distant ringing of phones outside my office. The faint sound of employees moving through the hallway. The hum of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.Inside my office, though, it felt as though the world had stopped.Dean was still kneeling.Kai was still staring.And I was suddenly very aware of how hungry my son looked.The realization came out of nowhere.One second I was looking at Dean.The next, I was noticing how much thinner Kai’s wrists appeared.How his cheeks weren’t quite as round as they used to be.How there were faint shadows beneath his eyes.Not enough to concern a doctor.More than enough to concern his mother.My throat tightened.I looked away before either of them could notice.Then reached for the phone on my desk.Dean’s eyes followed the movement immediately.Hope flickered across his face.The sight almost made me laugh.He
DON'T BEG ME NOW, MR. ARMSTRONG 100
The afternoon unfolded in a way I hadn’t expected, easy and almost light, like something out of a life I wasn’t quite sure I was allowed to live. If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I would be walking along a beach with Brandon and a man who shared Victor’s face but none of his rigidity, I
DON'T BEG ME NOW, MR. ARMSTRONG 105
The next morning did not come gently.It came with sound.Not soft, polite sounds like the distant hum of conversation or the clinking of cutlery from breakfast downstairs. No. It came loud, abrupt, and entirely inconsiderate of the fact that some people had gone to bed far too late and woken up fa
DON'T BEG ME NOW, MR. ARMSTRONG 103
The next morning started faster than I expected it to.There was already movement in the hotel when I stepped out of the room, the kind of organized chaos that came with wedding preparations. Voices echoed faintly down the hallway, doors opening and closing, footsteps that never seemed to settle. I
DON'T BEG ME NOW, MR. ARMSTRONG 098
The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the distance.Not just the physical space between us, but the quiet confirmation that neither of us had crossed it. Brandon was still on his side of the bed, turned slightly away, the sheets barely disturbed on his end. It should have made me feel reliev
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