ENTWINED HEART; desire and deceit

~Lucas~

I sat behind my desk, scrutinizing the financial reports in front of me, when the door swung open. I raised my head to see my best friend, Gavin Wellington walk in, he's the only one who comes into my company like he owns it. Always grins like he's the most handsome fella in the world, but today his usual carefree demeanor somehow felt broody.

I became alert, wondering what was disturbing him.

"What's wrong?" I asked my tone firm but laced with concern, leaning my back on the chair comfortably as I studied him. He dropped into the leather chair not far away from my desk, his eyes scanning the room before settling on me.

He let out a sigh and scrunched his aristocratic nose up, "I'm sick," he declared.

My brows furrowed, "Well, this place ain't a hospital my dear friend. Get your ass outta my office and go meet a doctor," I said and he let out a sarcastic laughter.

Of course, I knew that wasn't the main purpose of him coming here, the Gavin I know doesn't like it when I know his weakness. We are always competing with each other even though our line of business is way different, but that's why we were close.

He'd been such a hardass until he met his wife and became a weakling.

He became a pet to love which was crazy, sometimes I wish he hadn't met Bethany but then she alone was the person who could light up his world, well with the exemption of his daughter.

"I have a tumor, here in this brain of mine. Such a messed-up life, guess I might Bethany soon," he joked and I creased my brows.

"Are you just going to give up on life like that?" I challenged, feeling angry that he didn't want to fight this and give up. My gaze narrowed to the man not far away from me.

Gavin's tailored black suit and white shirt looked oddly out of place, his chiseled features normally radiant now appeared dull.

Bethany died in an accident shortly after his daughter's birth and ever since then he'd lost it. The only person making him be sane was his daughter and that's why I'm mad. Mad that he just wants to give up on life so easily without fighting the tumor.

"I need you to watch Abby for me," He requested and I lost it. I shouldn't be this mad but hearing this bastard talk about leaving this world and giving his daughter to my care must be so aggravating. I stood up from my chair and rushed at him, I held his shirt and glared at him, his blue eyes locked into mine.

All I could see was defeat.

"I could make your daughter's life hell. I can take all of your property and give her none, I could even blackmail her emotionally and make it look like she's mentally ill, is that fine with you?" I growled, trying to keep my anger in check.

He smiled.

That bastard FUCKING smiled at me.

The Gavin I know would have fought back, gotten angry at my resort and even hit me because I'd mentioned his precious daughter in this matter. Of course, he loves his daughter and when it comes to her, he is overprotective.

I gritted my teeth and let go of his shirt,

"You are no fun," I muttered and sat down on the couch opposite where he was standing. He adjusted his shirt and sat down back.

"The chance of survival is 16%, it has spread rapidly and my health is deteriorating. Thankfully, it hasn't gotten to stage 4 and no sign of leukemia," he announced and the heavy burden in my chest was laid off.

I crossed my legs, and undone two buttons, "That's high enough. Give me your words that you'll survive and compete with me and I'll give you my word that I'll take care of your daughter," I proposed and he chuckled.

"Nice request, Lucas. Just tell me you don't want to lose me and stop acting aloof. I never knew you loved me this much," he joked and I rolled my eyes Internally.

"Up to you Gavin, your choice," I said, as if this was going to be a nice deal for me. Deeply, we both know it's a win-win situation for both of us.

"Fine, I'll beat death and come and compete with you. Abigail is coming home this Sunday, I don't want her to know about it," He stated, his jaw clenched.

"She's starting her internship here. I don't want her to worry," he added. I could see his worry.

He is revealing his weak side to me again, I had so many things in my hands that I could use to bring him down, but somehow I decided not to.

Not that I pity him, Gavin just didn't make things easy for me and that's why I liked him though he is very annoying.

His daughter had just recently graduated from college and Gavin wanted her to join my company he'd already told me before. Seems he knew that he was sick then and he just wanted me to know now.

"I won't tell her, but if you get sick again I'm going to fry your brain and kill you myself," I threatened.

"Sure," he agreed and stood up, getting ready to leave.

"Would you like to have a drink with me?" he offered, I glared at him for a while before shrugging.

I could come back for the reports later, let me have a drink with him before he goes for his surgery.

"Wait, isn't alcohol bad for your health?" I asked, getting my coat from the back chair.

"Do not worry, Lucas. It's just a sip and nothing more, I need to clear my head of things," He replied, bringing a lighter from his side pocket.

"No smoking in my office, old man, get that lighter off your mouth," I warned and snatched the cigarette from his mouth.

"Stop nagging at me, people might think you're my nanny," he joked as we stepped out of the office. At least, he isn't brooding anymore. That's fine for now.

"You better beat death, Gavin."

~Abigail~

I stood in front of my closet, scanning the array of clothes hanging before me. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions. I ought to be happy leaving Toronto for Montreal, where I'd lived all my life, but then I'm going to miss Toronto.

It's already a part of me, studying here for four years like a normal student without people knowing who my family is. I wasn't the spoiled child; yes, I loved attention, but not the one filled with fake people.

Packing my clothes feels like hard work right now. I'm so going to miss my room, people in Toronto, and school. I'd inhaled the scent of my wardrobe; that warm feeling crept into me.

"Are you going to stare at your wardrobe all day, Abby," I heard Taylor say; her mouth was filled up with cereal, and that made her words sound funny.

She's my roommate and one of my close friends here in Toronto. I'd actually asked her to help me pack up since I'd been feeling too lazy to do so.

"Nope, I'm just looking for things to pack and things to leave. I can't take all of my clothes," I replied, my hands now on my hips.

"Do you realize your flight is in six hours? You've packed nothing; are you sure you want to leave Toronto today?" She asked, her brows raised up as she stared at me.

I moved closer to her and dragged her towards the wardrobe.

"And that's why you are here, to help me out," I muttered, and she snorted.

"Fine, let's do this. You know we still have places to go before I take you to the airport. We need to pick up warm clothes; you know how cold Montreal is." She started rambling as she threw clothes to my side.

I picked up the clothes and started arranging them in my bag; thank God she's got some list with her so I won't forget a thing or two.

It took two full hours to pack all my luggage, and that was because of Taylor; she's such a darling and a time saver.

I was about to put on a crop top and trousers when my phone buzzed. I picked it up from the bed to see a text from dad.

'Don't forget to pack warm clothes. Montreal can get chilly this time of the year. See you soon!'

I chuckled and decided to change my clothes. Now going back to Montreal gives me this sense of joy knowing my dad would be there. I'm grateful he decided to pick me up himself; I thought it would be one of his drivers.

Don't get me wrong, my dad has always been there for me, but when he came for my graduation, he told me he wouldn't be able to pick me up and so seeing this message makes me happy.

We got into Taylor's car, and she took me to a shopping mall to pick up a coat, and then once we were done, she drove off to Mike's place. Mike was outside his house; a knowing smile crept on his face as he noticed us park right in front of him. He pulled both of us into a warm hug, and I snuggled into his embrace.

I'm so going to miss them; both of them are the highlight of my life in Toronto. Even though things didn't work between me and Mike, it did work out for him and Taylor. Well, it just kinda happened, him dating his best friend, but I'm glad they both got their happy ending, and I'm happy for them. He kissed Taylor on the lips and proceeded to grant me a peck on the cheeks.

We spent some time in Mike's house and did lots of videos before going to the airport. I got there on time because it wasn't far from Mike's place.

"I am you to miss you, Abby," Taylor cooed, her eyes teary as she looked at me. Mike was holding my traveling bag while I held the handbag.

I bit my lips, my eyes becoming wet as I looked at my two close friends. I'm going to miss Mike's Norway accent and his carefree spirit. I'm going to miss Taylor's mummy characters and her seriousness in every activity we do. I'm going to miss all the times we spent together, whether bad or good. The two of them had impacted me in the little year we've spent together; they've grown on me, and leaving them is just so hard.

"I know, I'm Taylor. I'm going to miss you both," I muttered and pulled them back into our group hug.

"It's okay, ladies. Don't cry; there's the internet. We are going to do a lot of face time and talking. Thank God the time zone isn't that different, and we could call at a convenient time," Mike said, trying to lighten up the mood, but Taylor glared at him.

"Face timing isn't the same as physical. I'm going to miss your laziness," she murmured, and I laughed.

"And I'm going to miss your food," I stated, and we all chuckled.

"What about me?" Mike piqued, I pinched his nose, and Taylor hit him lightly in the side.

"I am going to miss you too," I replied, and he smiled then shuffled my air.

"Time to go, lady, or you'll miss your flight," he reminded me. Once again, I pulled them into an embrace for some time and then wiped off the tears in my eyes. Mike handed me my bag, and I departed.

~~~

A few hours later, I arrived at the airport in Montreal. I looked everywhere for my dad; my lips formed into a smile when I saw my dad in his office wear; his dirty blonde hair was neatly arranged; his aristocratic nose was perfectly shaped; and that proud smile was seen on his lips. I rushed towards him and jumped on him.

A hearty laughter escaped his lips as he carried me up and turned me around. I'd missed him so much that I had forgotten I wasn't a child any more.

"My angel," he murmured, dropping me down to the ground gently.

"Dad," I called, he held my hands and then walked me out of the airport. His men helped pick

up my luggage while we caught up on all the things we've missed.

~Abigail~

We were surrounded by the gentle murmurs of other diners. The smell of grilled salmon and freshly baked bread filled the air. I expected dad and I to have dinner at home prepared by Aunt Meg, but dad decided we should go out on a dinner date and spend quality time together.

I loved the atmosphere here in the restaurant. It's a 5-star restaurant and can only be reserved if you're a VVIP and you've booked three months earlier, but my dad and I with other little privileged people can just come in anytime, any day. That's one of the advantages of being a Wellington. The view here makes Montreal far more beautiful, especially at night. The landscapes and buildings are just top notch if you're looking from this restaurant's view.

I sliced into my steak, a small smile on my face as I recounted the moments with my friends.

"Toronto is amazing, Dad," I said, my eyes lightning up.

"The food, the culture, and my friends-oh, you remember my friends, Taylor and Mike, right?" I prattled.

"Isn't Mike the ex-boyfriend?" He questioned, and I shrugged.

"Yes, but that's all in the past. Anyways, the three of us went to a social event one time, and it was a blast. I can't believe I forgot to tell you that. One of my best experiences there," I kept on talking and talking, and he was listening, sometimes chirping in on things I've told him about.

"I think I'll move there permanently," I added.

Dad nodded his head but stayed silent for a moment.

"I am glad you had a great time," my dad said, setting down his glass. "But I wanted to talk to you about something important now that you are back."

I tilted my head, sensing a shift in the conversation. "What's up?"

"I have been thinking about your next steps. I know you've had a taste of freedom, and I'm proud of that. But Abby, it's time you've got some real business experience," he stated, his facial expression looking serious.

"So I get to start working right away, in your company?" I asked, my tone neutral.

"I have arranged for you to start an internship," he responded, and I froze on the seat.

My cutlery hanging in the air: "An internship?" I repeated.

"In your company?" I queried.

He shook his head slowly. "No, in Lucas' company," he answered.

My brows furrowed in confusion, "Why not in your company? I thought that would make more sense."

Of course, I know Uncle Lucas; he's Dad's best friend, and literally the only thing I can remember was him and the scowl on his face. I've never seen him smile; whenever he comes to our house, he's always there for business.

Dad sighed, placing his hands on mine. "Abby, I want you to learn how to work in a place where people won't be biased toward you because you are my daughter. You will need to start from the ground up-no special treatment, and Lucas' firm is perfect for that. They'll see you just as another intern, and you'll have to prove yourself without anyone holding your hands, and the board members in my company won't give you issues with this kind of shite," he explained.

Of course, I understand that's what I also wanted, but his best friend, I don't think it's a nice idea.

"Alright, I know you want what's best for me, but then I need to process your words and think about it," I stayed, and he smiled at me.

"Take all the time you need to, but don't make it very long," he joked, and I laughed.

"Yeah, yeah," I shrugged, and then we continued eating.

~~~

The next week, I found myself walking into a large, sleek office building where my Dad's best friend walked. The atmosphere was slightly different from what I had imagined; it was busy, professional, and slightly intimidating. I adjusted my blazer, feeling the weight of new expectations.

I reached the receptionist stand; she barely glanced at me, more focused on the steady stream of phone calls. I cleared my throat so at least she would acknowledge my presence. "Good morning, I'm Abigail Wellington. I'm supposed to start my internship today."

The receptionist looked at me with her sharp glasses. "Second floor, HR will brief you," she responded sternly. I swallowed in nothing and took the elevator up. I wondered how the rest of my day would be; the receptionist barely smiled; guess they took in their boss attitude.

When I arrived at the HR's office, I was greeted by a man with a clipboard who gestured me warmly to follow him into a meeting room.

Inside the meeting room was Lucas Brooke. He was sitting majestically; his jet black hair was perfectly gelled to the back, bringing out specific details of his facial beauty. His golden eyes shone brightly as he stared at me, my eyes trailed their way down to his perfectly shaped noise, then to his cupid-shaped mouth. Damn, his jaws were perfectly chiseled, and before I could look at his other physique, a loud cough brought me back to reality.

I stared at the HR. Mr. Ethan looked like I missed some words when I was ogling at my dad's best friend.

"I'm sorry, I missed what you said earlier; can you repeat your words," I said, silently cringing.

"First day at work and you are not concentrating; are you sure you are ready to work or perhaps you are content leaching off your dad's hard earned money," he scoffed, and I gritted my teeth.

How could he speak so rudely to me on my first day of work? It's not my fault I decided to look at my surroundings carefully before focusing on work, and beside, can't he just overlook this and give a warning?

"I am sorry," I muttered, trying to calm my nerves. This is the first day of work; I can't expect them to be overly nice to me, especially this grumpy old man.

"Here is your first assignment; it's nothing glamorous. Just organizing and cataloging old contracts; from there we would see how you'll handle real work," he remarked. I could see the taunting smirk on his face.

If he knew he didn't want me to work in his office, then why did he agree to let me in?

I gritted my teeth as I accepted the file. This wasn't what I'd expected on the first day, but I knew this was what my father expected-not me.

I wanted no special treatment, not bullying at work.

I glanced at him, trying to forget how terribly 'Ugly' he is.

"I'll get it done."