Chapter 31: PRESSURE
Finnegan
My mother, Gina Wolfe had never once in her life said the words well done to . Tonight would not be the first ti.
"The seating arrangent for the press night is an embarrassnt." My mother held up the launch proposal, glaring at it with her lips curled in disgust.
"And why is Bloomberg in the front row?! The automotive press should be closest to the demonstration track. Financial journalists go to the back or they’ll spend the entire evening writing about your stock price instead of what the engine actually does."
"The venue coordinator suggested that arrangent based on-"
"Find a new venue coordinator." She turned another page. "My God, the catering. You’re going to serve Beef Wellington at a car launch, Finnegan?"
"It’s the venue’s signature nu. Three of our previous launches have been held there without complaint and the client feedback has-"
"Without complaint isn’t the sa as impressive." She looked up then, her green eyes narrowing at . "Wolfe is a billion dollar company, your events should reflect that. Beef wellington is what you serve at a retirent party,"
I looked at my father’s portrait above the fireplace. I looked at the spitting image of him, except for the eyes. Mom’s eyes had won the battle of genetics. We all had them.
If Dad were here, he would have caught my eye from across the room and pressed his lips together to keep himself from laughing. It had been twenty long years since his death, since the buffer between
and my mother was gone.
I reached for my jacket, eyeing the door. I never should have co here tonight. I could have made these decisions on my own. After all, I was the CEO.
"The photographer," my mother continued, turning to another page. "Don’t use Anderson."
I stopped reaching for my jacket.
There was no point. I knew this rhythm. I had known it since I was seven years old. The corrections ca in waves, one after another, and the mont you thought you had reached the end of them, another one appeared. Pushing back or explaining myself would only extend the evening.
So I sat back and let her talk.
Oh, the font on the invitations were bad, the running order of the demonstration was poor, the choice of which engine to showcase first should be changed and to every thing she said, all I murmured back in response was, "Yes Mother,"
It was easier that way. When she finally set the docunt down, I rose to leave.
"Are you still nursing that nonsense thought of divorcing Victoria?"
Nonsense thought?
"That better be a no. You can’t bring sha on this family, Finnegan."
"And what about the sha she’s bringing ?" I hissed, clenching my fists and mother scoffed.
"You have no proof," she said. "And without proof she is entitled to half of everything in any divorce proceeding. Half of Wolfe Enterprises, half of what you have spent fifteen years building. Is that what you want? Do you want to lose everything your father and I have worked for?! Is she the first woman to cheat? If you were satisfying her..."
I can’t fucking believe this right now. I tugged at my tie to keep myself from yelling.
"She wouldn’t be trying to get it elsewhere would she? Focus less on Victoria and more on the company. You’re dismissed."
And with her words hanging heavy in the air, she walked past , out of the sitting room, leaving
in silence. Only my mother could speak to
that way. I was Finnegan fucking Wolfe, the CEO to one of the most industrious car companies in New York, but only my mother could speak to
like I was still a child.
My fists clenched at my sides. I looked at my father’s portrait, gritting my teeth in anger. It was ti to pay him a visit. He would understand.
"Finn,"
Mom’s housekeeper, Martha appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. She had been with the Wolfe family for thirty years and had practically raised us.
"Martha,"
She crossed the room and pressed a warm paper bag into my hands.
"I made so cheese snacks and the almond biscuits," She patted my hands with her old hands. "You look tired."
"Then I must be working hard enough," I snickered and she swatted my arm.
"That’s not funny, you need to rest and I’m proud of you. I heard about the upcoming car launch." A look of concern crossed her eyes. At least Martha was proud of .Not my own mother, but Martha. Would mother ever love ?
If I hadn’t had Martha growing up and was left to the whims of my mother, I would have gone crazy. I covered her hands with mine briefly. "Thank you, Martha."
Jas was waiting at the bottom of the front steps to the Wolfe mansion. He took the paper bag from my hands without a word and rushed ahead to open the car door.
"Thank you, Jas," I murmured as I slid in the backseat. The headache that I had been trying to fight, hit in full force. I rubbed my forehead, trying to recall all the problems mother had cited about the upcoming can launch.
My eyes caught the fuel gauge on the dashboard. It sat two marks below full, the needle hovering at the three quarter line.
"Jas, drive to a gas station before we go anywhere and fill the tank."
"Yes sir."
My phone rang with a ssage from Victoria.
"Honey, when are you coming ho? I have a surprise for you?"
Attached to the ssage was a picture of her in lingerie. I swiped to delete, my lips curling in anger. She wanted sothing.
The headache pounded harder. I couldn’t go ho in this state. I definitely did not want to deal with my wife’s antics. The club wouldn’t be opened today which was a fucking bumr because I needed to take the edge off. I needed Aphrodite.
An image of her on her knees, choking on my cock had my entire body tensing. Had she gotten her pleasure from soone else when I left the club? If I found out she did, she would just have to be punished, wouldn’t she?
Jas pulled up at the gas station to fill up the tank, then slid back in.
"Where to, Mr Wolfe?"
I couldn’t go ho. Going to my private penthouse also ant being alone with my thoughts and that did not sound exciting. The club was closed. There was only one place to go.
"54th Street," I said. "The bar."
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