Filthy Secret

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WRONG DESIRES

ETHAN

Stepping off my private jet, I make my way to the waiting car. My driver holds the door open for me. “Albert,” I say by way of greeting.

“Mr Caldwell, good to see you, sir. I trust you had a good trip?” “I did, Albert, thank you.”

He nods as I slide inside and onto the soft leather seats. I sigh, lean back, and squeeze my eyes closed. I have been in New York, finalizing my divorce. Don’t get me wrong; I am glad it’s over, but fuck, my ex-wife even though we are on good terms – was demanding to say the least.

Me being British and her being an American we split our time between New York and London for the past eight years. My company, Caldwell Global Investments, allowed it having offices in both cities. It kept Katrina happy – until she decided she wanted to be by her family, in New York, full time, and I caught her fucking her personal trainer.

The guy did me a favour if I am honest. My ex-wife and me staying friends can attest to that. If I had any sort of romantic feelings towards her, then I would have made her suffer, would not have given in to her demands. But I don’t.

Truth is, I never really loved her, only married her because having an American Socialite wife with a good family name looked good when trying to gain wealthy clients to invest with my company and me.

Along with a shit tonne of money, another of her stipulations in the divorce was for one of her nieces to intern at my company over the summer. She is attending Oxford University, and having a big corporate company like mine on her resume will look good for her. Apparently.

I had met Aspen once, six years ago, when she was a bridesmaid at our wedding. Now not only would she be spending a few months working for me, but she would also be staying in one of my apartments, in the building I owned and lived in.

Don’t ask me how I ended up agreeing to this, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. How much trouble can a nineteen-year-old girl cause?

From what Katrina said, she is quiet, hardworking, and mature.

I can deal with it for a couple of months.

I have to.

“To the penthouse, sir?” Albert asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

“Yes, that would be great.”

I pull out my phone, scrolling through emails as we make our way back to my apartment. The streets of London, like always, are busy making the journey a good hour before we pull up to my building.

The car comes to a stop; seconds later, Albert is out of the vehicle and opening my door. I step out. “Thank you, Albert. That will be all for tonight.” I tell him before making my way to the open door; my doorman Cristoff holds it open.

“Mr Caldwell.” He greets.

I smile with a nod. “Cristoff.” He returns my smile as I make my way through the door and to the elevator. I push the button for my penthouse before glancing at my phone when it beeps. I see my ex-wife’s name on the screen and sigh. What does she want now?

I open the message, smirking as my eyes move over the words.

Katrina: Thank you for making everything so easy today. Aspen will be moving in tomorrow and starting at Caldwell’s Monday. I know what an asshole you can be, but please be nice to her.

I click off the message without responding as I step into the elevator. Yes, I am an arsehole. I wouldn’t be where I am today if I wasn’t. If Katrina thinks for one minute, I will take it easy on her niece; she has another thing coming. If Aspen is big enough to work for a company like mine, then she is big enough to take the shit I dole out to her. No one gets anywhere in life if they are constantly being handled with kid gloves. I will show little Aspen just what it’s like to be in the real world.

ASPEN

The taxi pulls up to an impressive-looking building. Caldwell Tower. My home for the next three months while I intern for my aunt’s exhusband. Some may find it weird that I want to work for Ethan Caldwell, especially since he is well known for being a ruthless businessman, but if I want to be the best, I need to learn from the best. And Ethan Caldwell owns one of the best investment firms in the world.

“That will be ninety-one pounds, sweetheart.” The taxi driver says, dragging me from my thoughts.

“Of course.” I grab my purse and fish out the money I withdrew from a cash point in Oxford specifically for this. I count out the exact amount, adding on an extra five pounds for a tip. It might not seem like much, but I am a student, and no matter how much money my family has, I don’t like taking any more than the allowance they give me each month. Pushing my purse on my shoulder, I grab my two suitcases and hop out of the vehicle. I walk towards the glass doors where a friendly-looking man is standing.

“Hello, I am a guest of Mr Caldwell’s. I am moving into one of the apartments today.”

The man smiles, instantly putting me at ease. “Ah, yes. Mr Caldwell made me aware. I am Cristoff. Make your way to the reception, and Beth will help you. Leave your bags; I will have concierge take them up for you.”

I nod. “Thank you.”

He opens the door, allowing me to step inside before he pulls my suitcases through. He reaches into his pocket, taking out what looks like a cell phone, which I quickly realize is actually a radio, and hits a button. A male voice sounds, and Cristoff talks into the speaker, asking what I now know is the concierge to come and grab my luggage. I smile and make my way to the reception, where a girl who looks a few years older than me waits.

“Hi, I am Beth. How can I help you?” she chirps.

“Hey Beth, I’m Aspen Kincaid, a guest of Mr Caldwell’s. I should have been assigned an apartment?”

“Yes, Miss Kincaid, let me grab your keys.”

She turns away from me and opens a locker on the wall. It reveals rows of keychains with small plastic silver… somethings attached. She grabs one off a hook, shuts the locker, and hands them to me. I stare down at it. It’s not a key, but a little round disk, like a fob.

“You are on floor thirty-five, apartment four.”

“Thank you,” I mumble, still staring at the weird thing in my hand. She giggles. My head snaps up, eyes narrowing on her. She jerks her head to the disk in my hand and rolls her eyes.

“It’s not a key in the usual sense, but it’s what we use here. There is a panel outside your apartment, and you flash the fob across the sensor. It will let you in. Malcolm will bring your bags up.”

I smile, repeat my thanks, and head to the elevator. I hit the button for the thirty-fifth floor and wait for the doors to open. Suddenly my nerves kick in. This is it-my internship for Ethan Caldwell. I met him once when I was a bridesmaid at his wedding to my aunt. I was only thirteen, but even then, I thought he was the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. With his piercing green eyes, dark hair, God-like face, and beautiful smile, he was surely every woman’s dream?NôvelDrama.Org (C) content.