Illicit Affair -Raghavi

Chapter 12

Miles

"What is this?" my father demands, thrusting his phone toward me. On the screen, a video of Brooklyn Panthers celebrating on the stadium field is playing.

That was fast. I wasn't expecting any videos or posts of the game to surface on the internet for a couple more hours. I thought I had time to prepare myself for the blow, but I guess you can never be prepared for my father's rage.

Lucien Baudelaire-my father, is the owner of Baudelaire Global Enterprises. He might be in his late forties but he still knows how to keep everything in control, including me and my sister, and when the control slips, even for a moment, his temper ignites like wildfire, and there is nothing and no one that can control his wrath. So I'm in for a burning hot treat right now.

"You cancelled a very important meeting with the Harrington's to play football." He says, fury clearly visible on his face.

I remain silent.

"Say something." He shouts, his anger increasing.

"It wasn't that important," I reply, keeping my tone even, though I can feel the tension climbing. "The deal was already finalized. They didn't need me there to sign some papers."

Lucien's eyes narrow. "Not important? Miles, they wanted you to meet their daughter. I wanted you to meet their daughter. But instead, you chose football as your priority." His words sharp.

I exhale, frustration starting to bubble up. "Don't start with that," I say, my voice rising slightly. "You're the one who taught me about commitment, so that's what I did. I committed to football long before any of this came up."

His expression hardens, and he steps closer, the air between us thick with tension. "Football, Miles? Is that what you see yourself doing for the rest of your life? Running up and down a field, chasing some fleeting glory? That's not a career. That's a hobby. A distraction."

I bite back the response burning on my tongue. There's no point in reasoning with him when he's like this.

Without another word, he leaves my room, slamming the door shut behind him.

I stand there for a moment, letting the silence sink in. Obviously, I know football isn't forever. And it was never supposed to be. I'm good with numbers, and I willingly want to carry the legacy of the Baudelaire Empire. I really do. But sometimes I need a break from the office, sometimes I want to get away from the corporate chaos. Today was my break from that life. But in Lucien Baudelaire's dictionary the word 'Break' is not printed.

And as for the Harrington daughter? I'm trying to avoid that situation for as long as possible. Marriage? Settling down? That's not on my radar right now. It's too soon for me to start a family just yet.

I'm lying on my bed, getting ready to sleep after a long exhausting day. I open my Instagram before sleeping to check photos of the victory party lunch. After the match, the Panthers decided to throw a small victory party at a hotel at lunchtime. I didn't attend it. Instead, after match I directly came straight home.

I have an insta account but I don't really post on it, which leads to me having no followers expect my friends. The moment I open the app my feed is flooded with posts of my friends from the party- laughing faces, clinking glasses, celebration. I scroll through them and stop at one specific photo posted by Sam. The photo is a selfie of Mia, Audrey, Sam and Alex.

Back at Nick's Grill, when I heard Mia say 'I love you' to someone who I directly assumed was her boyfriend, my blood boiled until Audrey told me it was her Uncle.

Alex is my best friend. I've never had an issue with his dating life. He can date anyone he wants. But when he asked Mia out? That hit differently, like something inside me shifted.

 In the stadium, after we won, I wasn't just casually glancing around. I was looking for her. I didn't expect her to lookback. But when our eyes met, it felt like the air filled in the space between us was electrocuted. It wasn't just a casual eye contact; it felt much more than that-like a connection. And now my feelings make so much sense.

Alex was damn right!