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CW: Possessive James, "you're mine" vibes, gun kink, spanking, dirty talk, degradation kink, daddy kink, spit kink, Russian Roulette during sex. There are also discussions of child abuse and violence in the home.
Just so there's no confusion, Wanda's son, Aster, is named after Dahlia's father. So, if you see the name twice seemingly talking about two different people, it wasn't a mistake lol I know it's kinda confusing.
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JAMES
He adjusts his tie in the mirror, trying not to inspect the lines on his face as a cigarette dangles from his lips. He shouldn't be smoking, his doctor says it's bad for his health, but he's stressed out. On his goddamn birthday.
Well, the day of his birthday party.
Yelena told him he had to make decision, and he's been sitting on his haunches. Having to cut three members from his Board of Directors just for some fucking property in his home state. It was ridiculous. It was weighing on him.
Dahlia managed to talk to Kate who then talked Yelena down to 35 percent of the profits from the new development instead of 50. It took a week's worth of texts and emails and buttering Yelena up, but it worked. She's being plied with free liquor tonight, a room upstairs in the towers for the week, and a check for five million dollars.
All so he can keep over 50 percent of his fucking profits on a development that hasn't even been built yet.
But she's putting him in touch with someone tonight. Some guy named Ultron. He was a last minute addition to the guest list. James was barely listening over the phone, he was just glad that the ball was rolling on the development. Even if it was in its early stages.
James sighs and re-ties his tie again for the third time in a row. He can't get the knot right. His mind isn't focused. He swears under his breath, loosens it, and tries again. A trinity knot, that's what his father always wore, and as much as James loathed the man, he had great style. With his cigarette between his lips, he tries again.
"Wide end on the left, narrow end on the right... over the wide end to the left..." He pulled the fabric into the loop from underneath and the knot began to fall into place, like he had been doing this for decades— which he had.
Dahlia won't let him into the ballroom until everything is ready and the guests have arrived. James doesn't know why she makes such a big fuss over him sometimes, but she looked so happy this morning when she woke up. It was almost like she was a brand new woman. Even the way she kissed him was different, like the way it used to be. She looked younger, her face looked lighter. Whatever Father Paul said to her last night seemed to have done the trick.
James knows it'll come back. Her darkness. It'll plague her and torture her the same way his continues to. He's getting older. 39. Fuck. Every time he thinks about it, he wants to throw up. He feels ancient. His knees are getting worse, his back hurts every morning, and he feels like he's chasing his youth with eye creams and face creams that don't actually do jack shit except for make him look a little greasier.
