Jacob and Larkin were cut from different cloths. Jacob had his passions, sure, but he also had his responsibilities, his duties to uphold.
Where Larkin might abandon everything for love, clinging to a foolish hope for a decade, Jacob couldn't afford such luxuries. Once he took the helm at Strand Group, his path was set—destined to follow in the footsteps of generations of magnates before him.
The restaurant was quiet. Jacob had chosen this spot specifically for a convenient talk with Rosalynn.
"You can relax here. It's my own place," he said, uncorking two bottles of ice wine as he settled across from her.
"Trying to get me drunk before the food serves?" she quipped.
"The food will be out soon." He got Rosalynn some wine, asking as he did so, "Where's Wayne?"d2
She took a sip, appreciating the wine. Jacob had a knack for selecting the perfect bottle—this one matched her taste to a T. She took another generous gulp, savoring the sweet burn as it warmed her chest. Pure comfort.
"Jacob, I've got to ask you something."
"Yeah?"
"Did you ever know... did Natalie and Wayne ever come to blows?" Rosalynn's gaze locked onto Jacob, her voice measured.
Jacob was momentarily taken aback.
"Why this all of a sudden? Who's been filling your head with stories?"
"Just answer me."
He sat back, pondering for a moment. "You're aware of the whole deal with Natalie keeping Wayne’s uncle under her thumb with violence, aren't you?"
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