When The Rules Are Broken ✔️

Chapter Two

One Italian trip later

James stared out at Manhattan's skyline. A storm was coming, and he had to decide if he wanted to fight back or not. If he lost, he could very well find himself behind bars and his legacy in tatters.

It had been a tough year. He snorted, now that was an understatement. It had been a hell of a year. He wanted to wake up from the never-ending nightmare. The very foundation of the Weston Enterprise Corporation was on shaky grounds. 

He looked to the heavens and sent his grandfather a silent 'thank you' for insisting on an iron-clad prenup before he had tied the knot with Tiffany.  The man's wisdom had ensured that she got nothing given there was no child.

Any hope for reconciliation had been dashed when he had caught her red-handed with her photographer lover in a hotel. There had been crying and pleading, but he had thrown her out the same day and called his lawyers with deathly calmness.

The casualty of the whole fiasco had been his friendship with Liam Archer, his best friend. He had tried to warn him about Tiffany's fickle ways, but James had turned a deaf ear to it all. The only saving grace was that Henry had passed away shortly after he had discovered his ex-wife's infidelity. The tumultuous on-off relationship, which had culminated into marriage, had exploded in his face in three years.

Henry's unexpected death had come as a blow. It had made him feel like an orphan all over again, what with his father and now both sets of grandparents gone. The only consolation was it had been a short battle with pneumonia. Henry hadn't suffered much. He had just never woken up from his peaceful slumber. 

His frail grandfather had lain in the private hospital room and rasped, "Promise me that you will live your life to the fullest, Jamie. Learn to live, my boy."

In response, he had demanded, "Don't die on me, grandpa. I need you. My life is a mess."

"It won't be if you look around you, son. Finish all my loose ends." Every breath was a struggle for Henry. He squeezed James' hand before falling back to sleep, never to wake again.  

Immediately after the funeral, an NYPD detective had visited him regarding an alleged insider trading. The evidence behind the accusation had been hearsay.  His legal team had touted it as a trumped-up charge, but uneasiness had seeped inside James at the bloodlust that had lurked on Aiden Connor's face. No law enforcement officer in his right mind would shoot his career by bothering a Weston. It made him uneasy.

Sighing, James pushed himself away from the window. He had to protect Charlotte no matter the cost if worst came to worst. Before he could think of how to go about this predicament, there was a knock on the door. He turned and saw Gina, his personal assistant, poking her head in.

"Sorry to disturb you, James, but there is someone here to see you. She says she knew Henry."

"Who?" he asked, his thoughts preoccupied.

"Amelia Aslan. Do you know her?"

He stilled. Amelia. Impossible!

Pulse racing, he followed Gina to the reception to find Amelia in a red dress, admiring the orchids in a crystal vase.  Her honey brown hair was tied in a loose bun, but it did little to dampen her beauty. Mesmerized, he drank her in.

A nervous smile played on her lips when she spotted him. 

James wanted to kick himself for standing like an idiot. Putting his game face on, he struck out his hand. "It's good to see you again."

"Hello, James." She stared at his outstretched hand before placing her own in his grasp. The imperceptible shiver didn't escape his notice.

"Please come in." He gestured to his office.