Chapter Four: Consequences

Leaving the tube station after arriving not that far away from Venus Picture Studios, Ashlyn made her way across to the gated entrance where a security guard glanced up from the booth, noticing the blonde, getting up and out of the booth, holding his clipboard as he approached her.

"Can I help you?" The security guard asked.

"I’m Ashlyn Munroe. I’m meeting…" Ashlyn answered.

"Miss Munroe?" The security guard responded as he indicated to his partner on the opposite side to open the gate. "We've been expecting you. Welcome."

The gates opened and the guard indicated to her to enter and Ashlyn followed, thanking them before stepping inside the studio lot, surprised by the bustle inside as people walked from one studio into the other or moved props across the lot when a golf-cart stopped in front of her and Kaleb stepped out to greet her.

"Ashlyn Munroe," Kaleb said with a smile before noticing her stunned look and asking. "You good?"

"I’m…" Ashlyn took a deep breath. "I’m good. Just... didn’t expect... I'm at an actual movie studio..."

"Yeah, well," Kaleb chuckled. "Get used to that feeling."

"Did you?" Ashlyn wondered.

"Did I do what?" Kaleb asked.

"Did you ever think you’d end up here?" Ashlyn clarified, gesturing at the studio lot around them.

"Nah," Kaleb admitted, shrugging. "But then again, I grew up with my dad dragging me to sets when he couldn’t find a babysitter. Kinda hard to be starstruck when you’ve seen world-famous directors since you were a kid." Kaleb looked back at her with a smile. "You, though, you’re genuinely starstruck. I've never seen that on a person before."

"I'm not starstruck," Ashlyn admitted. "I'm just… processing."

"Processing," Kaleb repeated before adding with a laugh. "Right. So when you stop processing, should I expect you to start screaming?"

"I don’t scream," Ashlyn responded.

"So," Kaleb paused. "Eleanor. Big role. Big book. Have you done anything like this before?"

"No," Ashlyn admitted. "Not like this. Short films, student projects, a few plays. Not exactly Kaleb Mercury's level of fame."

"I’m not famous. My parents are," Kaleb told her. "And trust me, you don’t want the Mercury family level of fame." Kaleb grinned. "Though, it does come with perks. Like knowing exactly where to get the best coffee on set. You drink coffee?"

"Coffee? Uh, yeah. I mean, yes. Like a lot. Probably too much." Ashlyn awkwardly responded whilst cringing internally at her own rambling.

"Well then," Kaleb said with a smile. "Since we've established you're a caffeine addict. Congratulations, by the way, welcome to the club. I could just show you the coffee truck," Kaleb paused. "Or... I could give you the full Kaleb Mercury VIP studio tour. Complete with behind-the-scenes secrets,"

"Is that an official title? Kaleb Mercury VIP Tour?" Ashlyn raised an eyebrow.

"Self-appointed," Kaleb chuckled. "But don't worry, I'm fully accredited. Got my Nepo Baby badge right here."

"Lead the way, VIP tour guide," Ashlyn agreed.

---

Leaving the tube station Freya arrived at the glass skyscraper of Trident Group, heading past the front door reception and to the elevators where they took the elevator to the fifty-seventh floor where Trident Group was based. Navigating her way past the receptionist of the office who was used to her, Freya made her way over to her father’s office.

"You’re late," Charles said as he noticed his daughter enter.

"Fashionably late," Freya corrected, leaning against the edge of his desk as Charles got up to pack up his laptop.

"How are you, Freya?" Charles asked.

"Oh, you know, surviving. My Pulse engagement is up and I’m finally getting some more offers, brand promotions, skincare, that kind of thing."

"Of course you are," Charles said with a faint smile. "And your friends? Malik moved into the attic okay? Kat in his old room? I know new housemates can shake up the original dynamics. No issues there?"

"They’re fine. Settled fine. Kat included. Not a single problem, so far," Freya answered.

"Good," Charles nodded. "Kat’s already one of the best assistants I’ve had in years. Sharp. She’s got potential. More than some people I could name."

"Is this your way of telling me you like her more than your own daughter?" Freya feigning hurt.

"Different strengths," Charles said, moving to his briefcase, checking the files inside. "You’d be terrifyingly good at this business if you ever bothered to focus on this instead of influencing, modelling or whatever you call it."

"Please. I’d die of boredom within a week." Freya scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Speaking of women, have you heard from Mom?"

"She called last week," Charles sighed. "Some gallery in Barcelona wants her to consult on an exhibition."

"And?" Freya said expectantly.

"And nothing," Charles shrugged. "She was booking flights when we talked. Not sure when she'll be back home."

"Home," Freya repeated. "Which would be where, exactly? The Paris Apartment? Your penthouse? Or does she still have that hideous place…"

"Freya." Charles interrupted her. "She's your mother. Her work means she's always busy but it doesn't mean she doesn't care. She did ask me about you, you know?"

"Did she?" Freya’s voice turned from one from annoyance to happiness.

“She did." Charles nodded.

"And what did you tell her?" Freya wondered.

"That you're still the most stubborn woman I've ever met and that includes your mother." Charles jested.

"Thanks, Dad." Freya sarcastically responded.

"It’s true," Charles chuckled. "But I also told her you're doing well. Working and about your new housemate. Basically, I told your mother you're fine."

Freya was about to respond, however a knock at her father’s office door, stopped her as her father called for the person to enter and to the blonde’s annoyance, she watched as Travis entered the office, backpack slung over one shoulder, looking over at Charles first before noticing Freya and his face quickly turned to having a grin plastered all over it.

"Did I interrupt something?" Travis asked.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Freya questioned her father.

"Travis is joining us," Charles informed his daughter. "The Mayfair deal requires his expertise."

"I thought it was just going to be us Dad." Freya responded in a tone that mixed annoyance and disappointment.

"It was but plans changed," Charles told her. "Travis knows the Mayfair portfolio better than anyone in the firm. It's business, Freya. Besides I thought you could do it with the company. I'll be in meetings most of the day so I thought you'd like some company when I don't need him."

"Fine," Freya said as she grabbed her bag. "Can we go now?"

"After you," Charles said, indicating to the door.

---

"Shit, Chantelle. You're truly amazing, you know that?" Dexter said as he watched his girlfriend keep going, her head bobbing on his dick as he groaned and grunted with her efforts.

Dexter groaned, his hand coming to rest on the back of her head, guiding her movements as Chantelle bobbed her head, taking more and more of him in until she felt him hit the back of her throat. Chantelle felt the pressure building in her own body, her pussy growing wet with anticipation as her hand stroked his shaft whilst she moaned around him.

Without waiting for a response, Dexter pulled her off of his cock and turned her around, pushing her down onto the bed, her breasts bounced slightly with the impact as Dexter stepped behind her, his hand on her hip, guiding his cock to her wet entrance and with one swift motion, Dexter pushed into her, filling her completely.

“Ungh… ungh… ungh…” Chantelle gasped.

The sound of their bodies slapping together filled their bedroom, Dexter's strokes grew more demanding, his hand gripping her hip tightly while her own hand reached back and grabbed his ass, pulling him deeper, urging him to claim her fully.

“Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Ungh!” Dexter grunted, speeding up his thrusts.

Chantelle's breaths grew shallower, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt her orgasm building and she reached back, her hand slipping down to her own wetness, and began to rub her clit in time with his thrusts until finally her orgasm washed over her and unable to hold back either, Dexter erupted deep inside of his girlfriend.

Dexter collapsed onto Chantelle’s back, before reluctantly pulling away and collapsing onto the bed besides his girlfriend who looked over at him as they both recovered from the highs of their mutual orgasms.

"For someone who was showing appreciation for the dress, you took it off me far too quickly," Chantelle commented.

"Couldn’t help myself," Dexter admitted, pulling her close. "You looked like a damn fantasy in that thing."

"So, was this your plan all along? Compliment the dress just to get me out of it?" Chantelle teased.

"Maybe. Or maybe I just have terrible impulse control when it comes to you." Dexter grinned, sliding his palm down the curve of her bare waist. "But seriously, you’re going to take the eyes off the bride."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Chantelle laughed. "But I doubt it. Technically I'm working,"

"Working or not, you’ll still be the most stunning woman in the room," Dexter responded.

"You’re lucky I love you," Chantelle rolled her eyes. "Otherwise, I’d call you out for being full of shit."

"Wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true," Dexter murmured.

"You’re distracting me," Chantelle sighed. "I still have to fix the dress and my make-up now, make sure I got the right lenses and still make it to the place."

"Fine, fine," Dexter groaned. "But you’re lucky I love you too or I’d keep you here all afternoon."

"All afternoon? Bold words for someone who already got what he wanted," Chantelle teased as she finally climbed out of the bed.

Dexter couldn’t help but appreciate the sight however as Chantelle gathered her dress off the floor, he couldn’t help but remember the kiss he gave Audrey and immediately felt the guilt once again. "We need to talk about something," Dexter said out loud but upon seeing her looking at her camera, he paused and shook his head. "You're gonna kill it today,"

"Thanks, Dex," Chantelle smiled.

---

With Ashlyn heading out early that morning for her first day of her movie production, Freya meeting with her father and Dexter and Chantelle sleeping in, Malik found himself alone with Kat that morning in the kitchen as he made pancakes for the both of them, flipping pancake over and catching it perfectly in the pan without spilling any of the batter, causing him to have a grin plastered across his face.

"Now, you’re showing off," Kat commented. "I didn't know you could cook."

"Neither did I," Malik admitted. "Turns out eating takeout most of the time is not exactly a healthy lifestyle, so I learnt,” Malik said, before noticing the pancake he was making burning up slightly. "Fuck."

"Clearly you still need to learn," Kat smirked just as the doorbell rang, causing the two siblings to look over at each other curiously.

"You expecting someone?" Malik wondered.

"No," Kat answered. "Maybe it's Lauren?"

"No. She would text or call before stopping by," Malik responded, leaving the kitchen and heading towards the front door.

Making his way over, Malik unlocked and opened the door to see the face of someone he never expected to see at his front door, considering she never liked him or his older sister. The woman and his step-mother, Alia Khan was a tall woman with silky black hair, light brown eyes, a slender body with large breasts and a curvy ass wrapped up in a knee-length skirt and light-coloured blouse under a blazer and high-heels.

"Alia," Malik said in surprise. "What…"

"Is Katrina here?" Alia questioned brushing past him to enter the house.

Malik followed Alia who entered the living room, closing the door behind him to find Alia taking a quick glance, clearly judging the home he and his friends had made, before stepping towards the kitchen and dining area where Kat was still sitting at the table.

Upon seeing her mother, Kat’s chair screeched as she got up from the table, equally surprised to see her mother with the room quickly fell into an awkward silence as two siblings seemed to stare down the older woman that mixed confusion and curiosity.

"Mom," Kat said, breaking the silence. "What are you doing here?"

"You haven’t answered my calls," Alia said, ignoring Malik and stepping closer to her daughter. "Three weeks, Katrina. Three weeks of you ignoring me like some…" Alia’s gaze flicked to Malik before snapping back to Kat. "Like a child. Your father and I have been worried..."

"Worried?" Kat echoed, before taking a step back. "You and Dad kicked me out, remember?"

"We did no such thing," Alia said, almost sounding heartbroken that her daughter could think that. "I agree words were said in the heat of the moment but..."

"But you meant them," Kat interrupted, crossing her arms. "You said you wouldn’t tolerate sin under your roof. And that’s putting it tamely. That’s not exactly something you say in the heat of the moment unless you mean it."

"You’re twisting my words, Katrina. I never said…" Alia tried to defend herself.

"It outright," Alia finished.

"I said your choices were sinful. There’s a difference." Alia responded.

"Oh, right. Because that’s so much better. My choices. Not me. Just the parts of me you don’t like." Kat shook her head. "You don’t get to pick and choose which parts of me are acceptable, Mom."

"I didn’t come here to argue," Alia softly said. "I came to ask you to come home. Your father misses you. I miss you." Alia glanced over at Malik briefly. "This... place isn’t where you belong."

"Funny," Kat responded, looking over at Malik as well. "Because last I checked, this place let me belong. Malik didn’t slam the door in my face when I showed up with a suitcase and nowhere else to go. His friends accepted me for who I am. They don't care that I like both men and women unlike my own parents,"

"You don’t understand," Alia replied. "This isn’t about acceptance, Katrina. It’s about what’s right. About protecting you from…"

"From what, exactly?" Malik finally interrupted. "Because from where I’m standing, the only thing Kat needs protecting from is you."

“This does not concern you,” Alia finally addressed Malik. “You were never part of this family.”

"Stop," Kat interrupted her mother. "Just stop. You don’t get to say that to him. Malik’s been more family to me in the last three weeks than you’ve been in years."

"You think I don’t care?" Alia admitted. "You’re my daughter. My only child. Do you honestly believe I’d throw that away over…"

"Over nothing?" Kat finished. "My sexuality shouldn’t matter. I’m your daughter, you should love me regardless…"

"Fine," Alia sighed in frustration. "If this is how you choose to live, Katrina, then you’re right. I can’t stop you," Alia turned around to leave. "But don’t expect me to stand by and watch you destroy yourself."