I Slept with My Boss and Ran Away

Mr. Thatcher’s stance was unyieldingly firm. Justin, a lawyer accustomed to reasoning with evidence and law, found himself completely at a loss against the irrational Mr. Thatcher. In Mr. Thatcher’s eyes, his role as father trumped everything, even the law.

Without arguing further, Justin went inside and headed straight to his room, beginning a frantic search for the property deed. Despite his efforts, it was nowhere to be found. Mr. and Mrs. Thatcher followed him inside and stood in the living room, listening to the sounds of drawers being opened and closed, knowing well what Justin was searching for. The deed had long been hidden by Mr. Thatcher.

After a while, Justin emerged from the room, exasperated. “Mom, Dad, give me the deed,” he demanded. Mrs. Thatcher, seeing her son upset, forced a smile and tried to smooth things over. “Ainsley, we’re all family here. We’re doing this for your own good. We just want to make your life easier.”

“Mom.” Justin couldn’t bring himself to speak harshly to his mother, who he saw as a victim deserving of both his sympathy and distress.

Nevertheless, Mr. Thatcher asserted forcefully, “I’m not giving it to you. You ungrateful wretch, we’re all thinking of you. Are you really choosing this apartment over your own family now?” His words were meant to corner Justin, and Justin couldn’t help but laugh in frustration.

Before he could respond, Mr. Thatcher added, “We gave you this life. And it’s your duty to take care of us. What can be wrong for me to ask for only an apartment?”

“Dad, you can keep the deed, but don’t think you can the apartment,” Justin retorted. “As long as I don’t agree and don’t sign, it won’t be sold.”

The argument escalated, and Gemma, who had been quietly watching in the room, came to the doorway. “Daddy?” she called out softly.

When he saw Gemma, Justin didn’t want to argue in front of her and risk causing her any emotional harm. “Gemma, I need to go out for a bit. Get rest early,” he said before leaving.

After Justin left, Mrs. Thatcher scolded Mr. Thatcher, “Look, you’ve driven Ainsley away again, and he hardly ever comes home now.”

“That’s fine by me,” Mr. Thatcher responded dismissively.This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

From another room, Tristan called out, “Mom, Dad.” Hearing him, they went to his room.

“This apartment’s deed is in Ainsley’s name. Without his agreement, we really can’t sell it,” Tristan pointed out.

“I’m his father, can’t I make decisions?” Mr. Thatcher said angrily and frustrated.

Mrs. Thatcher tried to mediate, “Maybe we shouldn’t sell it then.”

“Not sell it? When are we supposed to buy the villa then?” Mr. Thatcher complained loudly. “I’ve already told everyone back in our village that we’re buying a villa in Willow Grove. Now we’re not buying it? Where does that leave me? And how are we supposed to find a wife for Tristan?”

Seeing Gemma standing timidly in the living room, Tristan suddenly had a thought. “Dad, I’ve got an idea. If we could get Ainsley to transfer the apartment to Gemma. I’m her father; then we can sell it.”

Previously, they had had Gemma call Justin ‘Dad’, but legally, that alone sure would not make Justin her father.

Mr. Thatcher eagerly asked, “What’s the plan?”

Tristan beckoned Gemma. “Come here, Daddy has something to tell you.”

Timidly, Gemma approached. “Daddy?”

“Gemma,” Tristan asked with a smile, “how is Uncle Ainsley to you? Has he ever done anything that makes you uncomfortable? Does he do anything at night?”

Gemma, still young and unaware of Tristan’s intentions, answered honestly, “Daddy tells…”

Tristan glared, and Gemma quickly corrected herself, “Uncle Ainsley tells me stories at night, he’s very nice to me, and he wants me to be a useful person.”

When Justin wasn’t around, Tristan insisted that Gemma shouldn’t call Justin ‘Dad’, only ‘Uncle Ainsley’. Mentioning Justin, Gemma’s eyes sparkled; clearly, she was very fond of her Uncle Ainsley.

“What else?” Tristan probed. “Did he do anything else?”

Gemma shook her head, “No.”

Tristan frowned and pushed her slightly. “Useless. Did Uncle Ainsley ever hold you at night? Did he touch you?”

Hearing this, both Mr. and Mrs. Thatcher’s expressions changed.

Mrs. Thatcher defended, “Ainsley wouldn’t do such things.”

Mr. Thatcher scoffed, “It’s not entirely out of the question. How can you know what he thinks?”

Whether or not Justin did such things wasn’t important; Tristan’s goal was to create a scandal out of nothing. If there was even a slight overstep, it could be exploited.

Gemma nodded then shook her head, “He did hug me the other night.”

She didn’t understand the adults’ implications, she only knew to tell the truth. When she did something right, her Uncle Ainsley would hug her as encouragement.

Hearing this, Tristan smiled slyly, “That’s good, that’s good.”

Excited, he turned to Mr. Thatcher, “Dad, we can use this. We force Ainsley to give up the apartment. Otherwise, we’ll take legal action and see how he manages to stay in the capital. He’s a lawyer, he’ll definitely be scared.”