《Yes, Sirs (Book 1 of Desire's Den)》Chapter 120 - Emma

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I hadn't realized the boat had been moving until it stopped, and Callan gestured for me to follow him outside. I'd been too busy snuggling up to one of my men to notice anything but him.

Cheesy, I know, but it was the truth. They all took up all my attention when I was with either of them, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

The bow of the yacht was decked out with a round table set for two people. When we got closer, I saw red rose petals strewn beautifully on the white tablecloth. In a bucket filled with ice was a bottle of what looked to be red wine.

With the view of New York City in the background, it was ridiculously perfect for my first ever date.

"Do you like it?" Callan asked while pulling out a chair for me.

"Are you kidding me? This is..." I trailed off, trying to find the words. "I love it," I finally answered. "But you didn't have to do all this, you know. I would've been totally fine eating a burger at MacDonald's." I could've been in any place and still love it because I was with him. I hoped he knew that.

Callan smiled at me, noticeably relieved with my answer. "I know. I just wanted to do something special." He opened the wine bottle and poured it to us both.

Looking at the rose petals, I picked one up. "Who put these here?" They would've blown away with the wind when we were driving, so they had to have been put here when we stopped.

"The chef set the table for us. I would've done it myself, but I wanted it to be a surprise."

Damn...this man was blowing my mind right now with his sweet gestures. I hadn't known him to be this romantic, but I loved seeing this side of him.

A slight breeze was playing with my hair, and I brushed a strand from my lips. Aside from the gentle waves, it was utterly silent. Having lived in the city for so long, the silence was never truly silent; There was always some type of noise in the background.

Being here, away from it all, was like heaven. It was peaceful.

"Hang on, I'll be right back." Callan rose from his chair all of the sudden and disappeared inside. He came back a minute later with a wool blanket and draped it over me. I hadn't noticed I was cold until he covered me up.

"I would've given you my jacket, but this'll warm you up better," he said and kissed my forehead before retreating back to his chair.

"Thank you." I smiled at him; my eyes filled with emotion at his thoughtfulness.

The water danced beneath us in the moonlight, and the sky was cloudless. I stared up at the sky, looking at the stars I hadn't seen clearly for two years. The city usually obscured the stars with its nightly lights. A smile tugged at my lips as I located my favorite constellation.

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"What are you looking at?" Callan asked softly.

"The constellation of Cassiopeia. There's this myth about her that she was vain," I said.

"But?" he prompted, hearing I had more to say about her.

"But the mythology behind her story is thousands of years old. Women were perceived a whole different way back then. So, when I first learned about her, I made up my own story. One where she wasn't vain, just comfortable in her own skin. Instead of being uncertain about her body, she liked how she looked, and she didn't try to hide that fact." It was how I wanted to be, confident and at ease in the body that gave me life.

"I've honestly never thought about mythology, but I rather like your version." Callan's comment made me smile widen.

A man joined us outside, interrupting our conversation. He was carrying two steamy plates, and with a bow, he placed the food in front of us before promptly leaving us alone again.

The plates were beautifully decorated with a juicy-looking steak, cooked asparagus, and baked potato. It looked like something that would be served at a Michelin star restaurant.

Suddenly, I was glad we had a light meal earlier, so I could enjoy this without being too full. Knowing Callan, he had probably planned for this.

"I remembered how much you liked the steak you had at Zaveri, so I figured I couldn't go wrong with that."

"You figured correctly." I smiled. "This looks delicious."

For a while, we simply savored the food. It was as good as it looked; the taste of the meat exploded in my mouth and the potato practically melted on my tongue. As much as I respected vegetarians, I lacked the willpower to resist the temptation of well-seasoned and perfectly cooked meat.

We had small talks while we ate. It wasn't anything of importance, but even a tiny peek at what was going on in his brain held my attention.

"So, want to tell me the story about the boat?" I posed it as a question because it was. I'd never demand him sharing something he wasn't ready to part with.

I saw myself as an open book, mostly because I sucked at hiding my own feelings. Still, people were different, and not everything was easy to talk about. If he wanted to share, I would be happy that he trusted me enough to tell me. But, if he didn't want to, then that was also completely fine–which was something he needed to know.

Before he could answer, I continued, "But if you're not ready, you don't have to. We could always find something else to talk about."

Callan shook his head. "No, it's okay. I want to let you get to know me," he said, referring to the conversation we had inside in the living room.

Nodding, I waited patiently. I could practically see the wheels in his head spinning, trying to find the best way to broach the subject about his father. I'd figured there was a reason he hadn't mentioned him before–or his mother, for that matter.

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"I told you that my father and I didn't have a great relationship. It was complicated, and it messed me up," he admitted, tugging at my heartstrings. "He was a successful business owner. Known to the world as a charming billionaire and a devoted family man." Callan barked out a laugh as if the notion was absurd.

"But I knew him for what he was. My father, Gerald, was a liar and a cheater. He had mistresses in every fucking city, that much I am sure of. One of them was my mother." He spat out the word like it was poison on his tongue. "All I know about her comes from my grandparents. She was egocentric, always chasing down a new idiot that could pay for the life she craved, and she happened to meet my father. Then later came me. Of course, Gerald was a devoted family man, and he fought to keep that image. He already had a wife and two kids–two legitimate kids, so he couldn't exactly welcome my mother and me with open arms. What would the public think about that?" His voice was filled with an anger that was so deeply rooted I could feel it in his words. But in that anger, I could also hear the hurt, which was way worse to ignore.

I wanted to close the distance between us. I wanted Callan to know I was there for him, but I didn't move. I would let him finish–this was clearly something he needed to get off his chest. Afterward, I would give him whatever he needed–comfort or escape from the hurt he felt.

"He denied my existence. I was just a bastard son, no one of consequence," he continued. "He left first, before I was even born, and then left my mother. One day, she took off and ran, leaving me in the care of my grandparents. She didn't want a toddler ruining her chances at finding a new man to pay for her glamorous lifestyle. They both left me to fend for myself. I'm just grateful I had my grandparents."

Callan lifted his wine glass and took a long sip. He hadn't looked at me since he started telling his story, all the while I'd silently urged him to.

"Do you remember when Mateo mentioned I helped Zaveri start his own business?" He asked, shocking me with the sudden change of the direction of this conversation.

Finally, his eyes connected with mine, and my breath caught. They held a weight that seemed impossible to bear. I nodded my head in answer.

"You see, sometime in his elderly days, Gerald suddenly reached out. I don't know what changed his mind, but he wanted to get to know me. I was eighteen at the time and had just started in college. He thought he could buy his way into my life with money, but I didn't want it. So instead, I put it aside and later gave it to someone who needed it."

"You gave it to Zaveri," I realized.

"Yes, that I did." Callan nodded.

"But how did this yacht come into your possession?"

"Gerald kept trying to get in my good graces. I was spiteful, though, so he was shit out of luck. I'd survived eighteen years without him, and I wouldn't allow him to come waltzing in as if he had the right to do so. For years he kept trying, and for years I shut him out. I wouldn't give him a second chance. I didn't know he'd written me into his will until after he died, and his lawyers contacted me. Along with one-fourth of his money, I got this boat. He'd also written me a note, telling me all the things I never let him. It was about how much he regretted putting his image over his son. About him, and my mother, and what he felt for her–even years later. He regretted letting us both go. He named this boat after her."

"Eloise?" I asked, remembering the name written on the side of the yacht.

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you..." I trailed off, not knowing how to ask the question.

"Why didn't I rename it?" he guessed, and I nodded. "Because...it reminds me that when I do fall in love, I'll treat her with all the care I have and never let her go. It reminds me to never make the same mistake my father did."

The look he gave me, laden with meaning, made my heart stutter in its cage.

Next Friday will be my last update before I'm taking a break that'll last a little under two weeks. I think I'll be back 6-7. April, but I'm not entirely sure. I'll get back to you on which day I'll start posting again!

The reason for my break is that I'll be going to our cabin celebrating easter with my family, and I won't be able to update the book while I'm there. The internet is spotty there, and I also want to enjoy myself with my family. I hope you understand

I'm genuinely sorry for this! I honestly thought I would be done with this book by now, but I can't rush the ending, so it's taking more time than I planned. You guys deserve a better ending to the book than one that's rushed. I hope you trust me well enough by now to know I'll be back and that I won't abandon you or the book.

Just for clarification, I'll still be posting for a week before I take my break! Love you xx

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