### Chapter Three **Jericho** My mind drifts into the cosmos, a million thoughts racing far beyond the confines of this boardroom. I can't shake the image of River from my head – what on earth could have compelled her to step into the spotlight of a strip club? It's a disastrous time for me to lose focus, as I'm at Graysons Inc., heading into a senior management meeting that promises to be a battlefield among the Grayson men. Isn't it almost poetic that my visit to Club Edge to strategize over finding a fake wife would lead me right back to my past, to her? My ex. River St. James stands before me, transformed into an ethereal goddess with her fiery red hair cascading around her like a flame, a body that could bring a man to his knees. Dressed in a daring leotard, she embodies temptation itself. I've prided myself on my self-control, yet in her presence, my resolve weakens. The memories of the last time I beheld her naked, the delicate curves that have since filled out in all the right ways, swirl through my mind like a haunting melody. River's subtle yet fierce attitude tells me she's come into her own, and it's infuriating that all I receive from her is a curt dismissal, the icy reminder that my life is not her concern. She is correct, of course. But this knowledge doesn't alleviate the turmoil she's stirred within me. It gnaws at my consciousness that the last time I’d checked on her was three years ago. Back then, she was in Russia, riding the zenith of her career—and she was engaged. Yet, there she was, stripped down to her essence in front of me, sans ring. But in a place like Club Edge, many women forgo such symbols of commitment. After leaving the club, my mind swirled with restlessness. I delved into River’s life using my skills—tracking down bits of information that most wouldn’t even consider searching for. The revelations were unsettling. I couldn't find much, but what I did unearth told me she was in dire need of funds. The kind of money that would explain nights spent dancing for strangers. She works at Kelly’s Café on Crosby Street bright and early, from six in the morning until eleven. Then it’s off to Riverside Academy, where she teaches dance before the evening draws her back to Club Edge until one a.m. And then there's Emerson's Dance Company on weekends, though that seems only a temporary gig, perhaps for an upcoming production. The relentless pace of her life paints a grim picture of desperation, a woman barely able to catch her breath. She hadn’t just run away to strip; she was running from something. My thoughts circled back to my own guilt. Why can’t I stop thinking about her? The one person I've wronged profoundly haunts me like a shadow. Everything that separated us felt necessary at the time, not merely because her father despised me for my lineage. Our breakup stemmed from deeper, unspoken reasons. Now she’s back and in my mind again, a specter of the past I had hoped to escape. The thought of her stripping for survival claws at my chest. I couldn't bear the idea of her vulnerability, so I approached her manager after witnessing her performance, gathering details about her work. There was a thin line of solace in discovering she wasn’t a stripper per se—yet the confirmation that she could be persuaded for the right price sent a surge of anger through me. She had become a favorite among the regulars, tempted into private parties where anything could happen. Men willing to pay for lap dances and more, crossing boundaries for the allure of flesh, throwing around cash that could whisk her away from the drudgery of multiple jobs in a single night. My stomach churned at the possibilities, each one darker than the last. What was I supposed to do with this knowledge? Did her family have any idea of the life she was leading now? I dug deeper into their lives too, chasing after River's father and Gina, the only relative she seemed to trust. It appeared she was staying with Gina, evident from a recent phone bill with her name attached to the address. Nothing seemed chaotic on the surface, but there was something unsettling about River's ex-fiancé—an alias, an echo of secrets unspoken. Should I press onwards? Dig deeper into a wound I had thought closed, one that still pained us both? I made it to the management floor, the boardroom looming ahead. These meetings, held at the Wall Street branch of Graysons Inc. until my grandfather’s retirement, had always been a trial, especially since I’d been working out of the Park Avenue branch with Knight. The air was thick with anticipation, and after yesterday's debacle with Bastian, I sensed my grandfather was ready to unleash fury. As I pushed through the door, I was met with glares that could slice through glass. My father and Bastian sat side by side at the long mahogany table, looks of betrayal etched into their faces. I took my seat opposite them, the tension in the room thick enough to suffocate. “About yesterday’s news,” my father’s voice sliced through the silence, dripped with suspicion, “You didn't have anything to do with it, did you?” I tilted my head, feigning innocence. “In what respects, Father?” The mockery in my tone was intentional; I loathed calling him anything but that. It was a subtle rebellion against his insistence I was not his son in every sense but the biological. “You tell me, son.” I directed my gaze to Bastian, whose nervousness was palpable. “Did I instruct Bastian to continue sleeping with Lana Jamison?” I shrugged, casting a disparaging glance at my brother. “That seemed like a risky maneuver, don’t you think?” He bristled. “If I ever find out you—” I cut him off. “You wouldn’t be so quick to threaten me if you knew I had ample leverage. I may just know where the bodies are buried when it comes to Bastian’s little rendezvous.” My smile widened as Bastian paled, the impact of my words settling into the heavy silence. “All I can ask is for your discretion,” Bastian finally managed, the fight fading from his eyes. “Consider it a lesson learned,” I replied, my heart pounding at the realization of my growing power. Payback had a way of transforming weakness into strength, and I reveled in it, knowing I had the upper hand at last. Just then, the door swung open with the swiftness of a gale, bringing my grandfather into the room—purposeful and throttled with rage. He was a man who commanded attention, and today was no different; everything felt as though it trembled on the edge of a knife. “Gentlemen,” he began, his voice a thunderclap, “We have a scandal to address.” His eyes, cold and calculating, descended upon Bastian. “What do you have to say for yourself?” The room grew tense as Bastian struggled to regain his composure. I watched with fascination as they danced around each other, each word a carefully crafted weapon. Bastian’s attempts at contrition were unapologetic, excuses falling flat as my grandfather’s fury loomed over him like a storm cloud ready to release its wrath. With my grandfather at the helm, decisions swayed in my favor, pushing Bastian into an exile I could almost relish. The plan was unfurling, and I leaned back with a self-satisfied grin. Once Bastian and my father fled the room, my grandfather turned his attention directly to me. “This is now your responsibility,” he said, his seriousness weighing heavily in the air. “Leave it to me,” I assured him, determined to rise to the occasion. He chuckled softly. “I hope to meet the lucky lady soon.” The deceptiveness in my heart twisted. I had assured my grandfather of a woman who didn’t exist, while River haunted my thoughts like a specter. As Knight and I exchanged parting glances, we walked out together, but I knew he wasn’t going to let the mystery of my "girlfriend" slide easily. "You’ve been unusually quiet about this so-called mystery woman," he remarked as we stepped into the hallway. “Better to stay silent until I’m sure," I replied, forcing conviction into my tone. His skepticism was palpable. “I guess you're right. But time is ticking. Now that Bastian is out of the way, don’t think that Grandfather will just hand you the position. You need to make that deadline.” “I know,” I replied firmly, my resolve stronger than ever. “I’ll make it happen.” With a nod, we parted ways, and the moment I found myself alone, River’s haunting presence seeped back into my mind. I knew I should let her be; the sense of guilt filled every empty space within me. But after a moment's hesitation, I fought the urge to turn away. I found myself planning yet again for a return to Club Edge later that night, as if I’d become lost in a haze of youthful desires. Back at the club, I settled into my VIP seat, anticipating her performance. Tonight, she glided onto the stage in an emerald-green spandex leotard glimmering with sequins, a vision of seductive beauty. When her eyes met mine, a flash of surprise ignited, morphing quickly into fierce defiance. Unlike all the other men ogling her from surrounding tables, I had a history—the kind that clung like perfume. For a fleeting second, the world around us faded, her crimson cheeks betraying her feelings, and I was reminded of every stolen moment we shared. As she executed her aerial routine, she cast a glance back toward me—an electrifying moment burned into my memory, daring me to break free from the chains of the past. I’d made my decision. Tomorrow morning, I would seek her out at the café—a perfect setting for a conversation that had been years in the making. One chance to untangle the threads binding my heart to hers. After all, once I stepped through that door, I would owe it to both of us to face the consequences of my past mistakes. For River, for ourselves, it was time to finally confront the truth.