Page 6 of The Ring
“Because I know her,” I respond.
He nods, and there is a silent understanding between us. Even though we aren’t together anymore, he knows I know Cornelia better than anyone.
Chapter 3
Cornelia
Iwalk up the stairs towards my room after my first day of classes. Reaching the first floor, my eyes unconsciously flick to the door beside the living room. I freeze. It’s open. For the first time in four months, I can see inside—part of the bed, a strip of dark green velvet wallpaper, the floor usually clouded by clothes now bare. Someone is in there. I know it’s not her. Probably just a maid cleaning. Still, the sight hits me like a punch in the gut, knocking the air out of my lungs. Unlike at Annabel’s, where the public setting forced me to keep it together, here I have no defences. Suddenly, I feel like I’m reliving the worst day of my life all over again.
The day began like most in London. It had been raining all day—some people might see it as a bad omen, but I didn't. I love rain.
TJ and I hadn't talked, but that was neither surprising nor concerning. I had spent almost the entire day before in a board meeting for my family’s company, one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the world. If you’ve ever taken a pill orbeen to the hospital, there’s a good chance we had something to do with it.
The company was founded by my grandfather, passed down to my father, and about fourteen years ago, when my father had a midlife crisis and abandoned everything to gallivant around the world with his highly age-inappropriate girlfriends, he handed the company over to my brother, Anthony.
My brother is thirty-seven. The significant age gap between us is because our parents married after conceiving him during high school, or right after. I’m not entirely sure, as my mother tends to lie about her age. There wasn’t much fuss about it; after all, they were two kids from wealthy families whose parents likely hoped they would eventually marry, and Anthony just sped up the process.
They were happy for a while, but just before I was born, they started having problems. Their brilliant solution? Since a child had brought them together, a second one would fix everything. So, they had me. Of course, it didn’t work. Six years later, they got divorced.
Anthony makes me go to every single meeting. He says he’s the present of the company, but I’m the future, and it’s important people see me there. I tell him that will only happen if he doesn’t have kids, but he’s always insisted he doesn’t want them. For a while, I thought it was a phase. Now, I’m not sure.
Sometimes, I feel like it’s my fault that he hasn’t gotten married or had children because he was forced to raise me, since both of our parents were too messed up to do so.
Anyway, he has one rule everyone must follow in every board meeting: no phones allowed, to avoid corporate espionage and keep everyone focused. Everyone has to leave theirs at the door with his secretary, even me. Which I find incredibly rude—in what world does my brother think I’ll leak private information about our family business? That’s like shootingmyself in the foot. And let me tell you, I have amazing self-preservation instincts, so obviously, I wouldn’t do that.
We’ve fought about it a bunch of times, and his answers range from,“Will it actually kill you not to be around your phone for a couple of hours?”to“If I let you keep your phone while the others have to hand theirs in, it will be a clear sign of nepotism.”As if me having a job as Head of Corporate Affairs—which I’m not qualified for—wasn’t already a clear sign of nepotism. But I’ve learned to pick my battles, so I leave my phone at the door.
The meeting was so boring. It was all about some medicines that are about to be approved by the EMEA and the FDA—stuff we already discussed in the last board meeting—and tomorrow’s gala celebrating the company’s 58th anniversary.
By the time the meeting ended, my phone was flooded with messages from TJ.
TJ
I had a fight with my dad. He’s being an arsehole.
His dad is always an arsehole, by the way.
I’m on my way to your house. Maybe you can help de-stress.
Got to your place, but I forgot you are in a board meeting.
I think I’ll go grab a few drinks with the boys.
See you tomorrow at the gala. Love you.
I sent him a few messages back, but he didn’t respond. Not a red flag, knowing him and how he gets after fighting with his father. He was probably with one of the boys, knocked outdrunk, and wouldn’t text for the rest of the day—or probably even most of the next—because he still hadn’t developed the ability to text unconsciously. He would likely wake up the next day, an hour before the gala, scramble to get ready, and we’d meet there as usual, the way we always did whenever he fought with his dad and I wasn’t available.
It didn’t happen often, but his dad had been getting more difficult with him lately, questioning what he was doing with his life, and I had been so consumed with school.
It didn’t help that my mum was back from rehab and had turned my house into a constant parade of random men, drugs, and alcohol. I don’t even know why my brother bothers to send her to rehab anymore. She’s been in and out of rehab my whole life, and it doesn’t seem to make any difference. The only times she stops getting drunk and high are when she’s getting cosmetic surgery done.
I hate drugs—always have, always will. I tried some of them once with the boys at boarding school and hated it. They still do it sometimes, “recreationally,” as they call it.Nitwits.
I tried calling TJ a few times later that night, but each call went straight to voicemail. So, I reluctantly made my peace with having to wait until the next day to talk to him and went straight to bed.
I slept terribly, like most nights when I’m not beside him. At least waking up wasn’t difficult. I ate a quick breakfast, watched some TV, and my favourite hairstylist and makeup artist came to help me get ready.
Then I got dressed in a black Cristina Savulescu dress with crystal details, paired with some really cute Manolo Blahnik heels—sadly hidden beneath the dress. I added a tennis diamond bracelet from my personal jeweller, Solar Long Gypset earrings from Jessica McCormack, and my two usual rings back then.
