Chapter 6

Eight days after Jalen and Sydney concluded their weekend together, the elevator doors slid open, at Westward & Associates and Megan Westward stepped into the sleek, modern reception area. This is her husband’s prestigious but notorious law firm. The moment she entered, all eyes subtly turned toward her. It was always like this. Megan Westward wasn’t just any woman--she was the wife of Chris Westward, the prominent attorney. Megan is thirty years old and is known for her striking, sultry beauty and bold presence. She has long, dark brown hair with blondish tips that she usually wears in loose waves or sleek straight styles. Her eyes are one of her most captivating features, bright blue and almond-shaped, giving her an intense and mesmerizing gaze. Megan’s facial features are well-defined, with high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and full, pouty lips, contributing to her look. Her overall appearance exudes confidence and allure, with a fit and toned figure that reflects her athleticism and ability to stay in shape. Megan often dressed in fashion-forward, edgy styles that highlight her glamor and charisma, whether at fancy events or more casual settings. But despite the admiring glances, despite the expensive designer heels clicking against the marble floor, despite the life of luxury and exclusivity she was supposed to be grateful for ... Megan felt nothing.

As the receptionist greeted her with a polite smile, Megan returned it with a half-hearted nod before she was ushered into Chris’s lavish corner office. He was already seated at his ridiculously oversized mahogany desk, typing away on his laptop with a glass of bourbon next to him ... at noon.

Typical. Chris barely looked up as she walked in. “You’re late.”

Megan exhaled through her nose. “Hello to you too.”

Her husband finally glanced at her, flashing that artificially charming smile that once drew her in years ago, but now only disgusted her. Thirty-eight-year-old Chris Westward is an extremely successful and wealthy defense attorney. He is notorious for using shady and underhanded tactics to get an edge in the court of law.

“Sit,” he said smoothly, motioning to the chair across from him as if she were just another business associate.

She sat. And so began another joyless lunch date. Chris talked about himself, as usual. His recent court victories. His new high-profile clients. The connections he was making at the country club. Megan sat there, sipping her overpriced wine, pretending to listen, while internally screaming. She had everything, didn’t she? The million-dollar mansion. The endless shopping trips. The first-class vacations. But she also had no freedom. Chris wouldn’t allow her to work. He controlled every dime. And because of that prenup she signed like an idiot, she had no way out. She had traded her independence for security. And now? Now she was nothing more than a beautiful prisoner in Chris Westward’s carefully curated life.

Megan was only half-listening when Chris casually mentioned, “Oh, I almost forgot. I have a contractor coming by tomorrow to discuss the wine cellar.”

Megan blinked, stirring her drink. “Contractor?”

Chris nodded, barely looking up from his phone. “Yeah. Apparently, he’s one of the best in the city. Jim Harbor recommended him.”

Megan hummed, uninterested. “That’s nice.”

Another construction project. Another thing for Chris to brag about to his rich friends. She didn’t care.

The following morning, Jalen pulled up to the Westward estate in Buckhead, whistling under his breath at the sheer size and luxury of the place. Jim Harbor hadn’t been lying. Chris Westward had money. And if he was serious about building a wine cellar, this could be another major payday. Jalen was riding high off the Georgia Wellness project, and if this deal went through, it could further cement his reputation in elite circles. This was exactly the kind of opportunity he needed. Or so he thought.

The moment Chris opened the door, Jalen saw the brief flicker of surprise cross the man’s face. Jalen had seen that reaction before. It was subtle, but obvious. Chris recovered quickly, though, flashing his usual politician’s smile and extending a hand.

“Jalen Moss, right? Come in.”

Jalen nodded, shaking his hand, keeping his expression neutral. “Good to meet you, Mr. Westward.”

Chris led him through the massive estate, launching into his vision for the wine cellar. Jalen listened, nodding along, already forming ideas in his head about the layout, the materials, the labor costs. He was fully in work mode. Until she walked in...

The moment Megan entered the room, Jalen’s stomach clenched. That familiar warmth. That pulling sensation. That unshakable feeling that he already knew her.

Chris barely spared his wife a glance. “This is my wife, Megan.”

Oh, no.

Jalen immediately went rigid, forcing himself to keep his expression composed. But internally? He panicked. Because this was different. This wasn’t Kristen, a woman in a dead engagement, already halfway out the door. Megan was married. And not just to anyone. She was married to his potential client.

“No. No, no, no.” Jalen thought.

This couldn’t be happening. There was no way he could do this. He had to fight it.

Then, without waiting for any real interaction, Chris immediately continued talking about the wine cellar as if Megan wasn’t even standing there.

Jalen forced himself to act normal, nodding politely. “Nice to meet you.”

Megan’s bright blue eyes met his for the first time, and for a split second, something flickered across her expression. Recognition. Curiosity. Something she couldn’t quite place.

But then, just as quickly, she masked it, giving him a polite, unreadable smile. “You too.”

Jalen clenched his jaw. This was bad. This was really, really bad. As Chris kept talking, Jalen could barely focus. His mind was spinning. The Beyonder had told him he would know when he saw one of the eight. And he knew. Megan Westward was one of them. But this time, it was impossible. She wasn’t just engaged. She was married to a powerful, wealthy, narcissistic lawyer. A man who could destroy his career. A man who could ruin his reputation. There was no way in hell Jalen was going to touch this. Tonight, he would tell the Beyonder that this one was off the table. This was too much. But deep down? A voice inside him whispered something even worse. What if Megan didn’t feel the same way? What if she started to feel it too? And what if, despite everything she didn’t want to fight it either?

Jalen forced himself to snap back into focus. Chris had just asked for his opinion, and despite spending the last few minutes in an internal panic spiral over Megan, Jalen had enough experience to speak with confidence. He launched into a breakdown of what would work and what wouldn’t.

“A space like this has a lot of potential, but you’re going to need more than just racks and a cooling system if you really want it to stand out. I’d recommend incorporating custom shelving with built-in LED backlighting to showcase your best bottles. A tasting section with a marble countertop could give it a high-end feel. Maybe even a sliding glass entrance instead of a standard wooden door--it’ll give it a modern touch while keeping everything temperature-controlled.”

Chris listened, intrigued. Jalen could tell that he had him hooked.

“I like that,” Chris said, nodding, running a hand over his chin. “A glass entrance would definitely make it pop. And the marble tasting section? That’s a great touch. You know what?” He clapped his hands together. “I don’t even need to see any layouts--just send over the contract tonight. I want you to start this week.”

Jalen hesitated. For the first time, he didn’t immediately jump on an opportunity. His mind flashed to Megan. To the pull he felt the second he saw her. To the gut-wrenching certainty that she was one of the eight. To the danger of being in this house, around this woman, in this situation. But Chris was waiting for an answer. Megan was watching. And Jalen knew that if he didn’t take this job, Chris would wonder why.

“Yeah,” Jalen finally said, forcing a nod. “I’ll send it over tonight.”

Chris smirked, slapping him on the back. “Good man. Looking forward to working with you.”

Jalen forced a polite smile. “Likewise.”

But internally? He was thinking about one thing only, and it wasn’t the contract...

The second Jalen shut his apartment door, he dropped his keys onto the counter and shouted,

“Beyonder! Beyonder!! I need you, please! We need to talk!”

His heart was racing. His mind was spinning. This was too much. A fiancée was one thing. But a married woman? A married woman whose husband was now his client? No. Absolutely not. Jalen clenched his fists. “Come on, man, don’t do me like this! I know you can hear me!” For a moment, silence. Then...

A bright flash of white light exploded in the middle of the room. A wave of energy pulsed outward, sending vibrations through the air. And just like that, the Beyonder stood before him. Tall. Otherworldly. That same unshakable presence that made Jalen feel like a damn ant in comparison. The Beyonder tilted his head slightly, amused.

“You rang?”

Jalen exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face before looking the Beyonder dead in the eyes. “Bruh. What the hell. Seriously. WHAT THE HELL?!”

The Beyonder blinked, expression unreadable. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Megan, man! Megan freaking Westward! She’s married! You didn’t think that was something I should’ve known before walking into that damn mansion today?!”

The Beyonder smirked. “Ah. So you’ve met the third.”

Jalen pointed at him, furious. “Don’t do that cryptic shit with me right now! You put me in an impossible situation! That ain’t just some random woman! That’s my CLIENT’S WIFE!”

The Beyonder sighed, crossing his arms. “And?”

Jalen’s jaw dropped. “AND?! AND?! What the hell do you mean and? That’s a whole damn MARRIAGE, bro! A legally binding, government-sanctioned, ‘till death do us part’ type of deal! You really expect me to step into that and pretend like it’s just another mission?”

The Beyonder shrugged. “Jalen ... you knew this would not be easy. And yet, here you stand, three women into your journey. Surely, you’re not naive enough to believe this would be the worst challenge you face?”

Jalen gritted his teeth. “This ain’t a ‘challenge,’ man. It’s a setup. I already felt like shit for Kristen, but at least she was already halfway out of the door with her fiancé. But Megan? She’s married to a powerful lawyer, who’s also my client. And you’re telling me I’m supposed to be the one to ... what? Impregnate her? What am I supposed to do, Beyonder?”

The Beyonder simply watched him. Unfazed. Unbothered.

Jalen pointed at him, voice sharp. “You’re really not gonna budge on this, huh? You’re really telling me I have to go through with this?”

The Beyonder let a silence hang between them before he spoke. “You felt it the moment you saw her. You will come to understand why she was chosen in time.”

Jalen scowled. “Man, that means nothing to me! You keep talking in circles--just tell me what’s going on!”

The Beyonder’s eyes gleamed, his tone unwavering. “Your understanding is not required for the path to unfold.”

Jalen clenched his jaw, his frustration rising. “Alright, then tell me this--what happens if I say no? What happens if I tell you I won’t go near Megan Westward?”

The Beyonder’s expression remained neutral, but his words were calm and absolute. “The universe corrects the mistake.”

Jalen felt a chill run down his spine. “ ... The hell does that mean?”

The Beyonder did not elaborate. Jalen’s mind was spinning. The Beyonder had given him zero reassurance. No answers. No alternative. Just more cryptic warnings and cosmic bullshit.

Jalen ran a hand down his face. “Goddamn it.”

The Beyonder watched him carefully. “I did not say this path would be easy. Only that it is necessary.”

Jalen looked away. This wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. And yet ... The moment he saw Megan Westward, he knew. The pull. The warmth. The connection. It was real. And no matter how much he fought it; he knew the truth. This was going to happen. The Beyonder began to fade, his body dissolving into pure white light. But before he fully vanished, his voice echoed one last time:

“When the time comes, you will make the right choice. You always do.”

And then ... he was gone. Jalen stood there, hands on his hips, heart pounding. The room was silent again. But his world? His world was about to become a whole lot louder. Because tomorrow he would likely get have to sign the contract to make it official. And Megan? Megan was going to be there the whole time. And no matter how hard he tried to fight it ... Fate was already in motion.

Jalen stared at the PDF attachment in his email the next day. Chris Westward’s signature. The contract was official. Now, all that was left was for him to sign. He hesitated. For a second, it felt like signing a death wish. Like he was locking himself into something he already knew would lead to chaos. But at the same time, this was business. A big contract. A huge payday. He was a professional. Nothing was going to happen. Nothing could happen. With a slow breath, Jalen grabbed his stylus, scrawled his signature across the screen, and clicked send. It was done.

Ding. The second the email left his outbox, a message popped up. Chris Westward.

Chris: Great. When can you start?

Jalen sighed, rubbing his temple. This man really didn’t waste a damn second, huh?

He quickly typed back:

Jalen: Thursday morning. I’ll get there at 9:00 AM to start setting up.

A few seconds later...

Chris: Perfect. See you then.

Jalen locked his phone, exhaling sharply. That was it. Thursday morning, he was stepping into the Westward mansion. And Megan would be there. Jalen leaned back on his couch, staring at the ceiling. What the hell had he just gotten himself into?

Jalen pulled up to the Westward mansion at exactly 8:55 AM on Thursday morning. His truck rolled through the massive iron gates as the security system confirmed his arrival. The circular driveway was paved with pristine stone, leading up to an intimidating white-columned estate that screamed old money. The house was impressive. The situation, however? Not so much. Jalen exhaled through his nose, gripping the steering wheel for a second before shutting off the engine. He wasn’t sure why he felt like his life was about to change the second he stepped out of this truck, but the feeling was there. And it was strong.

Jalen barely had time to check his phone before the front door swung open. Chris Westward stepped out, dressed in a tailored navy-blue suit, holding a tumbler of what Jalen was pretty damn sure was bourbon. At 9 in the morning.

“Moss,” Chris greeted, stepping forward with that same artificial charm he carried at their first meeting. “Right on time. I like that.”

Jalen nodded, keeping it professional. “Always.”

Chris smirked, motioning toward the house. “Come on in. Let’s get started.”

Walking through the Westward estate was like stepping into a different world. Every room looked straight out of a magazine. Marble floors. Expensive art. Ceilings high enough to make Jalen feel like he was in a damn cathedral. Money dripped from every detail. But the air? The air was heavy. Something about the house felt suffocating. Like it was too perfect. Too controlled. Too much like a curated display rather than a home. And that told Jalen something. This wasn’t a house where people laughed. This wasn’t a house where people relaxed. This was a house where people performed. Chris walked ahead, leading him toward the back of the house, talking about his vision for the wine cellar. Jalen nodded along, taking mental notes...

But then, she entered the room. Jalen barely caught the scent of perfume first, subtle but alluring. Then, heels clicking against marble. Then ... her. Megan Westward walked into the room, dressed in a black blazer and black leather pants, paired with sleek black high-heels. Her long, dark brown hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, and her makeup was immaculate, from the subtle smoky eyes to the bold red lips that somehow made her look effortlessly powerful. She was stunning. More than that, she was striking. And for the briefest second, Jalen felt it again. That warmth. That pull. But he snapped himself out of it immediately. Not here. Not now. Keep it professional. Chris barely acknowledged her.

“Morning, babe,” he said dismissively, already moving toward the basement.

Megan didn’t respond right away. Instead, she took a brief glance at Jalen. Not in an obvious way. Not in a way Chris would even notice. But Jalen noticed. Her blue eyes flickered over him, just for a second.

Then she turned to Chris. “Good morning.”

Her voice was smooth, controlled, polite. But there was something underneath it. Something Jalen couldn’t place yet. Something he wasn’t sure he wanted to place. And then, just like that, the moment was gone.

Chris led Jalen into the unfinished basement space where the wine cellar would be built out. Jalen immediately assessed the structure, mentally calculating materials, timeframes, and costs. Chris, meanwhile, leaned against the wall, sipping his drink, watching him.

“So, Moss,” Chris said casually. “How long you been in the business?”

Jalen didn’t look up. “Been in contracting for about six years. Had my own company for the last two.”

Chris hummed, taking another sip. “Two years, huh? Must be doing well for yourself if Harbor recommended you.”

Jalen simply nodded. “I do alright.”

Chris smirked. “Self-made, I assume?”

Here we go. Jalen knew that tone.

That “let me size you up” tone.

The “I need to know if you’re worth my time or if I should treat you like help” tone.

“Something like that.” Jalen replied smoothly.

Chris watched him for a beat, as if trying to decide where Jalen fit in his world.

Then he grinned. “Well, I’m not a micro-manager. I trust you’ll get it done right.”

That wasn’t a compliment. That was a test. Jalen had been around enough rich, arrogant men to know exactly what Chris was doing.

Jalen kept his face neutral. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Chris nodded approvingly. “Good. You do a solid job, maybe I’ll pass your name around to some of my people. Could be good for business.”

Jalen kept his cool, practiced smile. “I’d appreciate that.”

Translation?

“Don’t act like you’re doing me a favor, bro. I was already recommended by one of your ‘people.’ I earned this job.”

Chris didn’t seem to catch on ... or if he did, he didn’t care.

“Alright, I’ll let you get started. Megan will be around if you need anything.”

Jalen stilled.

Chris took another sip of his drink. “She handles most of the home projects. Has an eye for things. Ain’t that right, babe?”

Megan, who had just entered the room again, tilted her head slightly. There was a pause. Then, with a controlled, unreadable smile, she said, “I suppose I do.”

Jalen didn’t know what the hell that was supposed to mean, but he knew one thing. He had just been given a lot more time alone with Megan Westward.

Jalen had been working quietly for hours. Chris had left for the office around 10 AM, and since then, Jalen had been doing what he did best: getting to work. The wine cellar space was solid. Good bones, quality structure. The project would take some time, but once it was done, it would be one of his best yet. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. But despite his focus, his mind kept drifting to one unavoidable thought. Megan.

A short while later, the sound of heels clicking against the basement steps pulled Jalen from his work. He looked up.

And there she was. Megan Westward, holding a tray with drinks, water, Gatorade, Coke, and offering them like it was the most casual thing in the world.

“I thought you might need this,” she said smoothly, her blue eyes locking onto his.

Jalen took a second to process her presence. Because, once again, he was hit with the same damn question. How the hell did Chris not stop everything just to look at her? It didn’t make sense. Megan was the kind of woman who demanded attention just by existing. Her presence was undeniable. Everything about her was stunning, from the way her dark brown hair framed her high cheekbones to the boldness of her red lips against her flawless skin. It felt like Jalen’s eyes involuntarily found her every time she was in sight. And now? Now, she was standing right in front of him, offering him a drink, looking so effortlessly elegant in a simple but fitted ivory sweater and black pencil skirt.

Jalen swallowed down whatever the hell he was feeling and nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

He wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his arm and reached for a Gatorade. Megan watched him as he cracked the bottle open and took a long sip. He could feel her eyes on him. She wasn’t flirting. She wasn’t being obvious. But there was something there. Something ... undecipherable. Something that told Jalen she wasn’t just here to drop off drinks and leave.

Jalen exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “This was nice of you. You didn’t have to.”

Megan tilted her head, lips curving slightly. “I know.”

Silence. Her tone was too casual. Too intentional. Jalen felt his grip on the Gatorade tighten. She wasn’t just Chris Westward’s wife. She was a woman who knew how to play a game. And if Jalen wasn’t careful--he was going to lose.

Jalen took another slow sip of his Gatorade, watching Megan carefully as she stood there, completely at ease. She didn’t immediately turn to leave. Didn’t just drop off the drinks and go. Instead, she leaned lightly against the wall, arms crossed in a way that felt too relaxed, too deliberate.

“So,” Megan said casually, tilting her head, “how long does a project like this usually take?”

Jalen exhaled through his nose, keeping it professional.

“Depends on the space. This one?” He glanced around the unfinished cellar. “A few months, give or take. The hardest part is making sure the cooling system is set up properly. Wine cellars need a specific temperature and humidity level, so that has to be perfect before anything else gets built out.”

Megan nodded, as if genuinely interested. “That makes sense.”

She didn’t move. Didn’t give any indication that she was about to leave.

Jalen wiped his brow again, shifting slightly. “ ... Chris didn’t tell you any of this?”

Megan’s lips curved slightly, her expression unreadable. “Chris tells me a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I listen to all of them.”

Jalen smirked before he could stop himself. “Fair enough.”

Megan glanced around the cellar, running a finger lightly along the bare wooden frame of the doorway.

“It’s impressive,” she mused. “What you do. Creating something from nothing. It must be satisfying to see a project go from an idea to a finished space.”

Jalen studied her carefully. She wasn’t just making small talk. She was stretching this conversation. Keeping herself here. And that realization unsettled him. Because now he was wondering why.

“Yeah,” Jalen said, keeping his tone neutral. “That’s the best part of the job--standing back at the end and seeing something that wasn’t there before.”

Megan hummed in response, nodding slightly. But still, she didn’t move. Her eyes flicked to his, and for the briefest second, something unspoken passed between them. Something charged. Something that neither of them acknowledged. Then, Megan shifted, pushing off the wall.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it,” she said smoothly, turning to head upstairs.

Jalen just nodded, forcing himself to look away as she walked up the steps. The sound of her heels clicking against the stairs echoed through the cellar, and then she was gone. Jalen let out a slow breath, running a hand down his face. That had been weird. Not enough to call it suspicious. But enough to make him wonder. Megan had stood there just a little too long. Asked just a few too many questions. And looked at him just a little too differently than a married woman should look at a man who wasn’t her husband. Or maybe he was just reading into it. Maybe he was paranoid because of the Beyonder’s bullshit prophecy. Maybe he was imagining it. Maybe ... But then again ... Maybe not.

Over the next week, a pattern emerged. Every day, Jalen would arrive at the Westward estate, park his truck, and get straight to work. And every day, Megan would find a reason to check in on him. It was never obvious. Never flirty. Never anything that could be called inappropriate. At least, not on the surface. But it was enough. Enough for Jalen to notice. Enough for him to wonder. Enough to make him start asking himself why. The first time, it was casual.

“Just wanted to see how things were coming along,” Megan had said smoothly, standing at the entrance of the cellar, arms folded in a way that felt too poised.

Jalen had kept his answer short and professional. “Everything’s on schedule. No problems so far.”

Megan had nodded and lingered just long enough for it to feel ... deliberate. Then she left. The next day, she came back. “Need anything? More drinks?”

Jalen had declined, but she had stayed a little longer anyway, making small talk, watching him work. By day three, she wasn’t even bringing excuses anymore. She would simply show up. Ask a few questions. Make a few comments. And always stick around just long enough to make Jalen feel like there was something unsaid hanging in the air. He tried to push it out of his mind. Tried to tell himself he was overthinking. Tried to ignore the way the tension between them kept growing, despite neither of them actually doing anything. But the more he tried to shut it down the stronger it got.

Chris, meanwhile, was completely oblivious. If anything, he was making it easier for Megan to drift closer to Jalen. Because every time Jalen saw him interact with her, it was like watching a man who didn’t even recognize what he had.

Chris would walk in, say barely two words to Megan, then immediately start talking about himself. If Megan tried to say something, he would nod distractedly and barely respond. Some days, he didn’t acknowledge her at all.

One night, around 6 PM, Chris had come home while Jalen was wrapping up for the day. Chris had breezed into the house, talking on his Bluetooth headset, barely even glancing at Megan as he walked past her. Megan had been standing near the kitchen island, holding a wine glass, watching him disappear into his office. She had no expression on her face. Just emptiness. Jalen had seen it. And he had looked away immediately, pretending like he hadn’t. But it stuck with him. Because it was the first real sign that something wasn’t right.

By Friday, Jalen was fully aware of two things:

Firstly, Megan wasn’t just “checking in.” She was seeking something. And secondly, Chris had no idea what was happening right in front of him.

And Jalen? Jalen was stuck in the middle. Trying to ignore it. Trying to pretend he didn’t feel the way Megan’s eyes stayed on him just a second too long. Trying not to wonder what she was thinking. Trying not to care. But no matter what he did, the tension kept growing. And it was only a matter of time before something had to give.

One day, Megan finally breaks the act and says something that confirms Jalen’s suspicions. It was Tuesday afternoon. Jalen was halfway through the day’s work, measuring out dimensions for the custom shelving when...

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of heels against the wooden staircase sent a familiar tension through his chest. He didn’t even have to turn around to know it was her. Megan Westward. Coming to “check in” again. By now, it was routine. She’d walk in, make small talk, linger just a little too long, then leave before anything could be called inappropriate. But today? Today, the air felt different. And Jalen felt it immediately. She stepped into the cellar wearing a sleek black blouse tucked into another one of those form-fitting pencil skirts that hugged her curves in all the right ways. Her makeup was subtle but flawless, those bright blue eyes sharper than usual. And her red lips? They looked like they were holding back something dangerous. Jalen stayed focused on his work, keeping things strictly professional.

“Hey,” he said without looking up. “Need something?”

Megan folded her arms, leaning slightly against one of the unfinished wooden beams. “No. Just watching.”

Jalen exhaled slowly, setting his pencil down. “Watching what?”

Megan tilted her head, her gaze steadier than usual. “You.”

Jalen’s stomach tightened.

For weeks, she had been dancing around something. Denying it. Hiding behind excuses and small talk. But now? She wasn’t hiding anymore. Jalen finally turned to face her fully, expression unreadable.