Carson’s Creed Read online

  CARSON’S CREED

  C. P. WATSON

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  About The Author

  Copyright © 2018 by C.P. Watson

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or people, who are living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Disclaimer: The material in this book contains sexual content and is advised for those over the age of 18.

  For those who’ve inspired me

  to never stop believing in true love.

  Perhaps it is our imperfections that

  make us perfect for one another.

  -Jane Austen

  CHAPTER ONE

  Candy Cane

  Having long hair was sometimes the most difficult to manage. Carson Jenner hated having to deal with it in the mornings, when she’d have to decide, do I want to look sexy or do I want to look professional? Her outfits usually portrayed the either and or, but what hairstyle would compliment her attire best? She always had to have a sterling appearance. None of her employees would miss a chance to gossip about what the tigress fucked up, and being the authority figure that she was, she needed to set a certain standard in her everyday life. It was exhausting and superficial, also a bit sexist that she had to be in tip top shape just to walk through those elevator doors and impress her ever-so loyal workshop team.

  Being the editor-in-chief at Jara Newman’s Styles was more show than act. Other than bossing around her employees and giving them tasks to fulfil, she always felt that she had no purpose. Leading one of the city’s multi-million dollar gossip magazines was extremely unfulfilling. The latest tale was always someone’s dirty laundry, which always made Carson think of her own. She was no innocent thirty-seven year old boss lady, and to think about it, who was? Carson was hitting forty in only a few years, and other than her latest sexapade, she had no real love life.

  It was a lonely world to live in. Her eyes worked more than her two hands, or feet. She sat at a desk for most of her billable hours, reading through drafts of articles and sometimes a few manuscripts from charming, aspiring novelists.

  Her position was well deserved since she dedicated her entire youth towards climbing the corporate ladder. And while being at the top of that ladder, she felt stuck, lost and miserable.

  There was no goal to aspire to, nothing to occupy all of her time and give her an excuse as to why her life was a wreck.

  Most would say that she was envied by many. She had the perfect job, lived in the perfect city, and owned the perfect house. That’s supposed to be having it all, right? Wrong.

  Life was much more than career. But she wouldn’t have changed any of her choices in the past, because there was no other option for her future.

  Thinking about settling down and getting married disgusted her to an extent of obscurity. She hated men. But hell, she loved to fuck them.

  It was perfectly normal for her to be physically attracted to a guy without wanting to have his babies. She was not an oven and did not want a cake.

  So she fucked around, and by fucked around, she was often surprised that she didn't accidentally end up getting pregnant by one of the many guys that she’d slept with. Probably because she was infertile, thank god.

  She decided to let her hair down for the day. Her red locks looked decent enough to be draped over her shoulders, which made her decide to take a sexier approach on her outfit. It was not compulsory for her to dress business formal to work, she just chose to. But from re-evaluating her life and the depression that she was falling into, why the fuck not mix it up? So, she took off her blazer and shirt, along with her pencil skirt and headed for her closet.

  Checking herself out in the closet’s full-framed mirror, her body still had its twenties’ glow. Of course, there were a few stretch marks here and there, but they were so close to her skin’s complexion that they blended in and were barely noticeable.

  Her red lace lingerie looked quite sexy with her three-inch black stilettos. She felt like she just dropped out of a James Bond movie and all that she needed was a gun to completely pull the look off.

  Carson looked over her clothes on the railings, and realized one thing for sure; there were no sexy outfits, only professional outfits.

  How the fuck am I now realizing this? This midlife crisis really has a way of changing my perception on things.

  Placing her hands on her hips, she shook her head in disappointment.

  I am a hot ass woman. I need sexier clothes.

  But what she had, had to do for the day, because she had a meeting with the department in less than an hour, and she couldn’t miss it.

  She grabbed a dress that she’d spent too much money on, in which she never even wore. It showed a little too much of everything with its body fitted structure and low cut at the chest, but that was not against the dress code.

  So after putting it on and looking at herself questionably in the mirror, the major thought in her mind was I’m definitely getting laid tonight.

  She grabbed her purse, threw her cell phone inside and took her car keys out. Heading out the door and into her car, she reversed out of the driveway and onto to the street.

  Traffic was terrible, even though she only lived ten minutes away from her office. She had a lot of things to do that day, and even though they felt like menial tasks, they were crucial to the magazine’s well-being. Being great at her job made it much easier, and she was the best when it came to it. That was one thing to be proud of in her life.

  She made it priority to be up-to-date with all the departments and the pitching of new ideas to keep the magazine interesting and modern. Her photographers were the main assets and without them the gossip would just be that, gossip.

  After parking her car in her spot and having a thirty second motivational speech to herself as her hands clenched onto the steering wheel, she headed to the elevator and pressed her office floor’s button.

  There was not much that she could say she was happy about. Her business was top trending in Rome, but it wasn’t enough anymore.

  Something was wrong. Something felt missing. She felt empty.

  It was almost nine in the morning. Half an hour later than she usually arrived and her employees were probably thinking that she was dead, because she was never late for work. Never.

  When the elevator doors opened two floors before hers, two of her designers walked in, and it seemed as though they did not recognize her, because their eyes were glued on her tits.

  Disrespectful.

  “Look away, or else I’ll make you.”

  And that’s when their eyes shot up and fear ran through them like Holstein Bolt at a marathon.

  “Miss Jenner.”

  The tall one gulped and the other didn’t say a word. Shock drained all the blood from their bodies, because they were pale as fuck.

  “How’s the design for April coming along? I want to see the first set of ideas before the end of the day, else I will have your jobs and your prospective careers.”

  They both gulped that time and nodded hastily.

  “Of course ma’am, we’ll bring it to you as soon as it’s finished.”

/>   “I want it at 2:00 sharp or your jobs will be passed along to those more deserving in your field. You do know that I’m doing some re-hiring now, and your jobs are on the line if you dare slip up. I’m not firing you without a good reason, of course, but you won't have any mercy when there is.”

  She was a fair boss, and wasn’t usually so uptight and threatening, but they pissed her off.

  When the elevator reached her floor, the doors opened and they rushed out. She shook her head in amusement and took a deep breath before stepping out. It didn’t take a second for eyes to be fixated on her, as usual. But they were probably questioning her choice of attire.

  She walked straight to her office, ignoring the stares and cursed that it was surrounded by glass walls.

  Fuck, now they can stare all day.

  Inhaling deeply, she placed her handbag onto her desk and headed for the decanter on the small table at the edge of the room, so that she could pour herself a shot of whiskey.

  After pouring and chugging it down, she stretched her neck from side to side before heading to the conference room for the meeting.

  Everyone was already there, and she realized that she was a few minutes late.

  “Good Morning everyone. Thanks for waiting. I’d like to address the theme for April and listen to your pitches, as you all know.”

  They nodded and Carson tilted her head to the side.

  This is going to be a long meeting.

  After going over the pitches and side-lining a few ideas, Carson was finally able to head back to her office and rest her mind for a bit.

  She ran her fingers through her red hair and inhaled a deep breath.

  “Carson.”

  She looked up to see Paul Fletcher walking into her office. He was one of the many men the redhead had tempted into her bed. And was the only one who actually proposed after a few months of fucking around. Carson declined, of course. He was one of her main investigators in the company, and an arrogant, six feet four tempter. But Carson swore to never enter personal ties with him ever again. Not when they barely could handle an amicable relationship without him bitching about her being a stone cold redhead.

  “Yes Paul?”

  “I have a scoop on a famous writer who’s in The States. She moved away from here two years ago, and within those two years, she managed to become a bestselling author of erotic, lesbian fiction. Those dykes like to read.”

  Carson quirked a brow at his crude comment but didn’t set forth her thoughts on it.

  “So, why are you telling me this? I run a gossip magazine. Not a tell-all-tale of lesbian successors.”

  “Then let me continue.”

  Carson tilted her head to the side as he pushed a folder in front of her.

  “What’s this?”

  She picked up the folder and opened it. There was a picture of a naked woman. Carson closed her eyes and sighed. The woman’s body was gorgeous, to say the least.

  “Her porn star name is Candy Cane. She’s been also making a career in the pornographic industry, under the company, Sex Hawk.”

  “Thank you, Paul. I’ll handle it from here.”

  “That’s very appreciative. This is good enough for the front page. She’s a New York Times bestseller.”

  “I got it.” Carson gritted her teeth. “Now leave, and let me do my job.”

  “You’ve always been a bitch.”

  He mumbled before storming out of the office. Paul Fletcher was a handful, but he was great at his job.

  Carson reopened the folder and flipped through the different pictures before noticing a biography.

  Candy Cane is an alluring temptress, with a body to please without hesitation...

  The redhead threw the folder onto her desk and clasped her hands together. She hated that. She hated ruining someone’s life off of something that they did in the past. The woman was a bestselling author, and she’d probably put her days at Sex Hawk behind her.

  Not bothering to read more into it, Carson decided to head to the lounge for something to eat. It, more than, bothered her to see those pictures, and the images would not leave her head.

  Grabbing a blueberry muffin from off of the counter, she looked at a few of her bloggers chatting at the end of the room.

  They seem happy.

  Carson headed back into her office and threw the blueberry muffin into the garbage can. Her appetite was gone. And she needed to interview applicants to administer positions to.

  Taking a look at her computer screen, she typed in Candy Cane Sex Hawk on her keyboard and pressed enter. Search results popped up and there were a few links leading to removed pages. Why were those websites taken down? Only one link worked, and that was the Sex Hawk home page.

  Carson picked up the folder and browsed through the papers for the woman’s actual name. When she came across it, she typed the name into the computer and pressed enter.

  Madison Pierce.

  There were many pictures and websites advertising her name. There were blogs filled with her successful writing career articles and all of her books had made the bestsellers list.

  Carson looked back at her previous search and ran through the pages and pages of links, but there was nothing connecting Madison Pierce to Candy Cane. It was basically a dead end.

  Where did Paul get this information from?

  Carson threw the folder into her desk drawer and deleted the tabs on her computer. Her head was pounding, and her empty stomach was screaming, but she couldn’t eat. She’d probably throw up, if she did.

  “Miss Jenner, can I send in the first applicant?”

  Kasey Rivers, Carson’s personal assistant, asked through the intercom. Carson nodded, not that Casey could see her, and tilted her head upwards.

  “Yes.”

  I need this day to be over already.

  A young woman, seemingly in her mid-twenties, entered Carson’s office. Her brown hair was in a French braid and her glasses sat nicely on top of her nose.

  “Good Morning, Ma’am.”

  Carson smiled and gestured for her to take a seat.

  “Good Morning…”

  “Abigail. Abigail Presley.”

  “Miss Presley.” Inhaling a deep breath, the brunette handed Carson a folder. She opened the folder and skimmed through, what she had already looked over beforehand, before giving her full attention to the young woman, who sat in front of her desk. “So, what do you know about the magazine? And what would you like to achieve from working here? You applied for the Wives of Today writing position. What do you think you can do that other applicants can’t?”

  “Jara Newman’s Styles is a top trending Magazine in Rome…”

  Carson found herself thinking about Madison Pierce as Abigail spoke.

  What would cause a woman like her to become a pornstar? That’s if it was true to begin with, but she trusted Paul’s findings. Where did he receive the information from? Someone must have probably leaked it to him, someone who wanted to hurt Madison Pierce.

  Becoming tired of listening to the brunette speak, Carson held her palm up for the woman to pause.

  “I’ll get back to you on the position. Right now, I have to do something important.”

  “But I didn’t get…”

  “You can see yourself out, Miss Presley.”

  The brunette sighed and left the office. Carson advised her assistant to do the rest of the interviews for her in the conference room and, also, told her to contact Paul Fletcher to see her right away.

  Pressing her lips together, she grabbed her phone from her purse and noticed a few missed calls from her sister. Carson groaned as she noticed an incoming call.

  Placing the phone to her ear, she let out a deep breath.

  “Hello.”

  “Carson. I’m sorry if it’s a bad time, but I’m hosting a dinner tomorrow, and I was wondering if you could make it.”

  Carson pressed her lips together to stifle a groan from escaping her lips.

  “I’m not sure if
I…”

  “You only have one nephew. I’m sure you can fit some time into your busy schedule to have dinner with us. A few people are coming over. It’s almost like a family gathering, and you and I both know that we don’t have much family.”

  Gritting her teeth, she let out a loud breath.

  “Fine. But there better be good wine. On another note, I’ll bring wine. You never get the good stuff.”

  “Yeah. I’m not an editor-in-chief like you, my little sister. “

  “Just don’t get drunk, and embarrass yourself, as usual.”

  The redhead puffed out her cheeks and looked at the framed picture on her desk. It was a photo of her deceased parents.

  “I can’t promise anything. I’ve got dead parents and a dead husband. There’s a lot of reasons to drink.”

  “I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow at?”

  “5:00.”

  “So early?”

  “Just be there.”

  The line went dead.

  Paul Fletcher entered Carson’s office. She clasped her hands in front of her and frowned, expressing great irritation.

  “You beckoned for me?”

  Carson narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

  “I did a little research on Candy Cane. All the websites were taken down. There’s nothing of her pornstar days online. Care to explain?”

  “Well, she’s not exactly thrilled for the world to know that she did porn. She’s probably spent a fortune to break her contract with the porn company.”

  “How did you find this out?”

  Paul smirked and shook his head.

  “I don’t question you on how you do your job.”

  He sat down on the chair in front of her desk.

  “I’m your boss. I have a right to question you, Mr. Fletcher.”

  “Sure, are bosses also allowed to fuck their employees? I’ve heard that you’ve done it quite a few times. Billy from accounting, really? No wonder he got divorced.”

  What was Paul Fletcher insinuating? She certainly didn’t sleep with a married man. Yes, on a dull night, she’d let Billy go to town, but that’s about it, and he was already divorced by then.