Chapter 1: Filthy Rich Bosses: Chapter 1

My phone is pressed to my ear as I speed through the house, trying to make it out the door in time. Juniper’s voice is a steady presence on the other end, her tone clipped but professional as always. It’s what I need right now—someone who can cut through the noise of my thoughts and keep me on track.

‘Juniper, I need you to push the Markham meeting back by thirty minutes. No, scratch that—make it an hour.”

‘Yes, Mr. Harrington,’ Juniper’s eager voice chirps through the speaker. ‘I’ll take care of it right away. Is there anything else you need?’

I suppress a sigh, clenching my jaw. ‘Just make sure everything else stays on track. I can’t afford any more delays today.’

“I’ve just confirmed your meetings for the afternoon. You’ve got an hour before the call with Kensington, and I’ve scheduled a call with Elliot Burman for two-thirty. Everything’s set, Mr. Harrington. Just don’t forget to sign off on the new contract before you go in. It’s urgent.”

“I’ll handle it,” I tell her, grabbing my keys off the table by the stairs. My thoughts are racing through the day’s tasks, prioritizing, organizing, but none of it seems to matter when I can’t find the one thing I need: time.

As I reach for the door handle, I’m stopped by yet another delay.

“Master Harrington,” Douglas says, his voice as dry as the desert. He stands there, holding a letter in one hand, his brow furrowed. He’s not one for theatrics, but the stern look on his face immediately gets my attention. “You might want to see this.”

I take the letter, a sinking feeling in my stomach. My mind is still half on Juniper’s updates, still trying to mentally process everything I need to get done today. But when I glance down at the letter, my heart sinks. It’s from my neighbor—Vivienne Smith-Baggington. And the words, written in bold, seem to stare back at me like an accusation.

“Demand for Damages and Formal Complaint: Zeus, the Harrington family dog…” The words on the page blur together, but a few phrases jump out at me: ‘lawsuit”, ‘damages’, and ‘euthanasia”.

I feel the blood drain from my face. Zeus. Sarah’s dog. The last living connection to my late wife. My mind races, searching for the right thing to do, but all I can muster is a weak, ‘Sarah—’

Douglas hovers uncertainly nearby.

‘Sir? Are you all right?’

I nod absently, already pulling out my phone. ‘I need to call my lawyer,’ I mutter, more to myself than to Douglas.

As I dial the number, my thoughts drift to Zeus. He’s been different since Sarah passed, more anxious, more aggressive. But to put him down? It feels like losing her all over again.

‘Carter, it’s Grayson Harrington,’ I say when my lawyer picks up. ‘I need your help. It’s about my dog, Zeus.’ He’s not really my dog—he was always Sarah’s dog.

I look over at Zeus, lying peacefully near the kitchen, his head resting on his enormous paws. But I know how volatile he’s become. The loss of Sarah broke him just as much as it broke me. And now, it seems like it’s come to a head.

“Zeus wasn’t unprovoked,” I tell Carter, my voice strained. “But he’s…he’s not the same. He’s been unpredictable ever since Sarah—” I cut myself off. I don’t need to say her name to know the weight it carries.

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, as if Carter is gathering his thoughts. “I understand, but Grayson, we can’t risk it. If you can’t get Zeus under control, we might have no choice but to put him down. I’ll arrange for a behavioral assessment, but you need to prepare for the worst.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. A coldness settles deep in my chest as I stand frozen, the weight of it sinking in. Zeus is the last piece of Sarah I have left. The last connection to her, to everything we had. Losing him…I can’t imagine it.

“Just…do what you need to do,” I finally say, my voice rougher than I want it to be. “I’ll be in touch.”

I end the call and stand there, feeling the tightness in my chest grow. Zeus doesn’t deserve this. But then, neither do I.

I take a deep breath, running a hand through my hair as I finally realize I haven’t moved from the spot near the front door. My heart is racing now. Not just for the legal mess I’m facing, but for Zeus, for everything that’s slipping through my fingers.

“Master Harrington—”

“It’s fine, Douglas. I’m fine.”

Douglas nods, his usual sharp wit absent, replaced with a rare seriousness. “Let me know if you need anything at all.”

I don’t trust myself to say anything more, so I simply give him a terse nod. I take a deep breath, straightening my tie and smoothing down my suit jacket. It’s going to be a long day, but I’ve faced worse. At least, that’s what I tell myself as I reach for the door handle, bracing for whatever new challenge awaits me on the other side.

But when I get in my car, and my hands grip the steering wheel, something in me just…crumbles. The tears threaten to rise, but I push them down. I can’t afford to break down. I have a meeting to get to, a business to run. I can’t let this—this goddamn dog—destroy everything I’ve worked so hard to build.

But if I lose him, what’s left?

I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white as I stare blankly through the windshield.

I try to start the car, but my hands are shaking too much to turn the key. The weight of what just happened crashes down on me, and I let out a shaky breath.

‘Damn it,’ I whisper, closing my eyes. ‘Sarah, what am I supposed to do?’

All I can see is Sarah laughing as Zeus chased his tail in the backyard, the three of us curled up on the couch during movie nights, Zeus comforting me in the days after Sarah’s funeral.

‘I can’t lose you too, buddy,’ I say, my voice thick with emotion. ‘You’re all I have left of her.’

The engine hums beneath me, and for a moment, I just sit there, unable to move. My heart is still pounding, a frantic rhythm that matches my thoughts. I don’t know how to face the day anymore, how to face the people who depend on me when I can barely hold it together myself.

I close my eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath, steadying myself. I need to find a way to keep moving, even when it feels like everything is falling apart.

With shaking hands, I pull out of the driveway.