Autumn: A Twist of Fate

by Yasauni

Genres: Christian Suspense

Synopsis

Being the oldest of identical triplets, Autumn Spaulding craved her individuality and independence. Right after graduation, she enlisted in the Marines for five years. She gained the identity she desperately needed but came home to tragedy.

Here she is, eight years later, and all she wants is that sisterly bond she lost. At the age of twenty-six, Autumn has already lost one sister, and the other sister is self-destructing quickly. But out of all the bad she is surrounded with, she gains her ray of sunshine in raising her only nephew—until she meets the man who could derail it all.
 
Dylan Holmes is an average playboy billionaire who refuses to settle down until he is given an ultimatum. Not seeing himself in a long-term relationship, he does the only thing that seems fit for him to do. Buying a bride gives him more than he bargains for once he gets with Autumn. Will these two put their differences aside and give in to each other?

Release date: August 20, 2024

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

May 1999

“How dare you do this to me?”

I heard my mother’s voice carry throughout the house to my room. I opened my eyes, letting them adjust to the pitch-black room.

“It wasn’t like that. You don’t understand,” my father pleaded with my mother.

My heart thumped in my chest and echoed in my ears. I was scared. My parents arguing was new to me. Out of my six years on this earth, I had never heard them raise their voices. Even if I had done something terrible, it never resulted in them yelling at me. Our house was quiet unless we were having company.

“Bitch, I told you to leave!” my mom shouted. I had only heard my aunt Sonya use that word, and she told me never to use it when she said it around me. My dad called it profane language, whatever that meant. All I knew was that I was never to say that word.

“You may live here, but you don’t pay any bills. William, you have to choose,” my aunt Sonya said.

Why was my mother this upset, and what was my dad choosing? I began to feel butterflies swim in my stomach, and my palms began to sweat. I knew whatever was happening on the first floor would be life-changing. I started to cry. I remembered Aunt Sonya telling me, “You are a big girl, so no tears.” So, I wiped my face and sat up in bed, letting my chubby legs swing before my little feet hit the plush pink carpet my mom and I picked out.

“I have been with you over nine years, and this is what you do to me? I’m your fucking sister. I raised you when Mama was working her ass off to make sure we could eat.” My mother’s southern twang, which she tried so hard to cover, predominated in her voice. I took one step toward the door and tripped over thin air. I cursed my clumsiness as my mother went on crying and yelling.

“You two can have each other. I’m taking Charm and leaving. You will never find us.” My mother’s footsteps thumped on the wooden floors on the first floor. I pushed myself off the floor, carefully opened the door, and walked to the top of the stairs. Then I decided to return to my room for my shoes that light up. My mother said we were leaving, and I wanted to be ready to go when she came for me. I had no idea what was happening, but I would go with her if my mother left. I started descending the stairs, making sure I held on to the railing so I wouldn’t fall.

“Over my dead body!” my dad’s voice bellowed, causing the walls to shake and me to fall face-first.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, knowing I was about to break something on impact. I thrust my hands forward to brace myself, ready for the impact with the floor. My mother turned just in time to catch me from falling on my face. I wrapped my arms around her neck as she held on to me like this would be the last time she would ever hug me. Finally, she put me down, making sure I was steady on my feet. She rubbed her hands over my head down to the tip of the twisted ponytail she had made three days ago.

As I looked around the room, I saw the stress and tension on everyone’s faces. The air down here was so thick I could barely breathe. I saw the pain etched on my mother’s tear-stained face. My dad wiped his hands down his face like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, but Aunt Sonya’s face is one that I could never forget. She had an expression of devious satisfaction.

“Baby, I love you. Always remember that no matter what happens in the future or what anyone in this house tells you. Are you going to remember that?” Mama questioned. I nodded.

“Say it,” she demanded. As tears rolled down my chubby cheeks, my mother wiped them away.

“Always remember that you love me,” I repeated. My mother pulled me close to her, hugging me and rubbing my back in small circles.

“That’s right. Mommy will be back soon to see you. In the meantime, be a good girl for your dad and auntie Sonya.” She choked on her words, then hiccupped.

My mother went to her room on the first floor, packed a small bag, put on a jacket, and walked out the door. I watched out the window as she got into a waiting cab. I sat there for hours, crying at the window as my dad and aunt tried to console me. My mother had never left the house without me; if she did, she would be back before I got home from school.

Even as a child, I knew something wasn’t right about this night. Something told me that this moment would forever impact my life, but I didn’t know precisely how or why. Weeks passed, and I asked for my mom constantly. Aunt Sonya did everything my mom had done in the house, including caring for me, but everything seemed different. My dad was happier than I had seen him in a while. He would do the same things with Aunt Sonya that he used to do with my mom. Before Aunt Sonya moved in, he was just as happy with my mother. I was confused about what was going on. One day, he came home and kissed Aunt Sonya on the lips. He set some papers on the counter, then whispered something in her ear. Her facial expression changed from happy to sad in a heartbeat.

“When is Mom coming home?” I asked as they stood in the kitchen.

“Baby girl, let’s sit down. We need to talk.” My dad and aunt Sonya both grabbed my hands, and we walked over to the couch. I could see the sadness in their eyes as my dad pulled me into his lap.

“We need to talk about Mommy,” he told me. Aunt Sonya put her hand on my back and rubbed it in small circles. I turned to look at her. Her eyes were full of tears, and so were my father’s.

“Mommy had a bad accident when she went away.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat.

“Where is she? Is she coming home?” I asked, not understanding what he was saying.

“No, baby,” Aunt Sonya answered, and my father cut his eyes at her.

“What do you mean, no? She promised she would come to see me. Where is she?” Tears came to my eyes. My mom would never tell me she would do something and not follow through.

“Baby, remember when Greg, the fish, went to heaven, and I told you he was going to be with God and my mom and dad would take care of him?”

I nodded, remembering when my parents stood in the bathroom with me as I flushed my first pet down the toilet. My parents explained that Greg was going to fish heaven, and my grandparents would feed him for me.

“Well, baby, Mommy has gone to heaven with Greg.” My little brain couldn’t process what my dad and aunt told me. My mother would never leave me. She was just here a couple of weeks ago, and we had talked about her coming back here to see me.

“Daddy, why would Mommy leave me? She promised she would be back.” Tears had formed in my eyes and were now running down my face. My dad pulled me close to him, hugging me.

They wasted no time putting a small funeral together that consisted of my dad, aunt, my best friend, Autumn, and me. They told me that my mother would’ve wanted an intimate funeral without a lot of people crying over her body. My dad let me pick out a pretty white and gold casket and the colors we would wear to put my mother to rest. We stood in the mausoleum with a closed casket and a plot with my mother’s name on it. I couldn’t stop the tears that continuously came from knowing I would never see my mother again.

“We can share my mother,” Autumn whispered, locking her hand in mine.

“Thanks,” I whispered back.

After the preacher prayed over the casket, we returned to the limousine and went out to eat. My dad and aunt did everything to make me feel better that day, but nothing worked. The only thing that would have made me happy was seeing my mother enter the restaurant doors.

“I know I’m only your aunt, but I will do everything in my power to make sure you never feel like you don’t have a mother. I will be here for you every step of the way.”

Her intentions were good, but nothing compared to having my own mother here to care for me.

After my mom’s untimely demise, the years flew by. By the time I turned 7, my father and aunt had married. I struggled with the knowledge of my aunt now being my stepmother. When I turned 10, my little brother Donovan was born, and I was the happiest big sister in the world. I was no longer the only child. When I heard his cries in the middle of the night, I would get up to help Aunt Sonya feed him. As soon as I got home from school, the first thing I did was check on him. I would go into his room when everyone was asleep at night to ensure he was still breathing. I loved Donovan so much that I didn’t want God to take him away from me like he did with my mom.

I sat at the table, nervous as hell. I couldn’t believe I was really about to do this. If it weren’t for losing a bet I knew I would win against my best friend, Autumn, I would enjoy our girls’ night out. I sat at the table, tapping my foot to the girl singing off-key onstage. To everyone else here, it probably seemed like I was enjoying myself, but Autumn knew differently. I could tell from the smile she was wearing on her face that she knew I was about to make a puddle in this seat.

“You’re going to be great. Why are you so scared?”

I heard what she said but ignored her until she kicked me under the table. I finally glanced her way, and she gave me a reassuring smile. She knew better than anyone else that I feared singing in public. Singing did something to me. I felt like everything in the world was good when I let the music rhythm pump through my veins, and the lyrics flow from my mouth. The only thing wrong is I would get in front of these people and probably throw up, or worse, fall off the stage. When I get nervous in front of people, serious things happen. Like the first day my boyfriend, Michael, tried to talk to me, I ran into a street pole. Or when my father begged me to sing at his best friend’s wedding, one of my heels got caught on the runner, and I fell. I could go on and on about how accident-prone I am when I’m nervous or emotional.

“Don’t worry about me; worry about calling the cutie whose number you just got.”

She rubbed her hand over her pixie cut and kind of smiled. I would get through this without a hitch. I just wanted my friend to go out on a date for once in her life. Autumn and I had been friends since we were 4. When we turned 18, I went to college, and she joined the marines. Almost three years later, her triplet sister, Winter, died, and Autumn became a mother to her 3-year-old nephew, Storm. Something as tragic as that hit her, her parents, and her sister, Summer, hard, but Autumn felt it differently because she had been away for five years.

“What are you going to sing?”

“I’ll figure it out before I get up there,” I told her, sitting back in my seat and relaxing.

“You’re up next. I already put your name on the list.”

I immediately sat up straight. I wasn’t ready. I began to bite down on my lip, feeling the rush of butterflies hit my stomach.

“Why would you do that?” I whined, wanting to strangle her.

“I knew you would wait until the last minute and then find a reason not to do it.”

She knew me well. Before I could lie to her, saying I wouldn’t do that, they announced my name and the spotlight landed on me.

“I picked out a song for you too. Knock ’em dead, girl.”

Autumn smiled at me as I got up. I moved around the table, making sure not to bump into anyone. The last thing I wanted was for them to start complaining about the big girl who knocked over their drink or bumped into them. I was so nervous, my hands began to sweat as I ascended the stairs . . . and tripped on the second stair. I closed my eyes as a wave of embarrassment hit me. One of the men from the table I dared Autumn to get a number from came up, giving me his hand as I made it up the last three stairs. I gave him a nod of thanks, and he gave me a dimpled smile that made my heart skip a beat.

I stood before the microphone, and the beginning of Beyoncé’s “Halo” filled the speakers. I closed my eyes, and when the music cued me to sing, I opened my eyes, focused on Mr. Dimples, and let the words flow right out of me. When I hit the last note, everyone stood up, clapping, whistling, and yelling for me to sing something else. I took a bow, and Mr. Dimples gave me his hand to help me down the stairs. I returned to the table, where Autumn was jumping up and down with a huge smile.

“Every time I hear you sing, you sound better than the last time. You really should be in someone’s studio.” She hugged me tightly before we sat down.

“You know she’s right. My name is Chase.”

Mr. Dimples had come behind me, and I hadn’t noticed. He held his hand out to me for the third time this evening, but this time, to introduce himself.

“Nice to meet you, Chase. I’m Charm.”

I took his hand in mine, hoping that I wasn’t turning red from blushing. This man was the epitome of everything holy and sinful. He is the prettiest man I have seen in my life. I knew I would go straight to hell entertaining him when I had a man, but I couldn’t help staring at him. Those hazel bedroom eyes, thick eyebrows, long, thick, black eyelashes, thick black hair that I would love to run my fingers through, scruffy beard and goatee, medium muscular build, tall frame, nice smile, and Lord, those dimples . . . My mouth instantly went dry, and I thought about everything hidden underneath his clothes. I had never in my life dated outside of my race or thought about cheating on Michael, but Chase made me want to do all of the above. I diverted my eyes to the floor, thinking, Why would he want to date someone like me?

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Autumn nudged my arm, getting my attention.

“No, thank you. We were just about to leave,” I blew him off.

“How about your number?” he asked with so much hope in his eyes.

“I have a boyfriend,” I told him, getting up and leaving the bar.

I stood by my car, waiting for Autumn. Suddenly, the door to the bar burst open, and she stood there, gazing around the parking lot until her eyes fell on me.

“What was all that about?” she yelled across the lot, waiting for an answer.

When she approached me, I was looking down at my shoes.

“Look at me, Charm.”

I raised my head, looking everywhere except in her eyes. Autumn came home looking for the old Charm, ready to take the world by storm. While growing up, Autumn was my rock. After my mother took off on my dad and me when I was 6, my family was turned upside down. My aunt Sonya began to help out with me, and everything was going smoothly until a year later when she became Stepmother Sonya. After my father put a ring on her finger, she became downright mean and degrading. Autumn and her mother kept my spirits up and told me I was beautiful. I had never been small, even as a child, and they made sure I knew the world wasn’t right in their estimation of beauty.

There was so much that Autumn didn’t know about me, and I didn’t want to get into it right now. I would have told her when she came home, but she had just lost her sister and gained a child. This was our first girls’ night out, and we went to a bar. I didn’t want to burden her with my insecurities. They don’t call it self-esteem for nothing. That means I need to work on it.

“Talk to me, Char.” She shortened my name like she had done so many times.

“Why would a beautiful man like him want to talk to me? Out of all the beautiful model-sized women in there, he wanted me. He must have been looking at all this expensive shit Michael wants me to have on when I’m walking out of the door,” I blurted out my thoughts without thinking.

I looked down at the matching Saint Laurent pumps, purse, and 5-carat princess-cut tennis bracelet. Everything I had on, people killed for, especially living in Chicago. Hell, they killed for less. All this stuff I had come with was the price of my humanity. Michael feels that keeping me in the most expensive things will keep people from seeing that I’m overweight.

“What do you mean by that? He came to talk to you because you are a beautiful, full-figured woman with the voice of a damn angel. Where is all this coming from? Your evil stepmother or that prick you call your man, Michael?”

“We can talk about this later. I just want to go home and sleep,” I told her.

“I had fun tonight. See you later and don’t think this discussion is over.”

I didn’t say anything. I got in my car to drive to my condo on the Lower South Side. Since it was late, my drive from downtown was quick. I couldn’t wait to get inside the house and drown my sorrows in some Chunky Monkey ice cream. I kicked off my heels at the door, went right to the kitchen, got my ice cream and a spoon, and then flopped down on the couch. I picked up the remote, found a chick flick, and dug in. The explosion of flavor hitting my taste buds put me in a state of euphoria.

“That’s the last thing you need this time of night,” he said as I closed my eyes, leaning back on the couch.

He was wrong. The last thing I needed was for him to be at my house while I was trying to eat away my depression. Why couldn’t he stay at his house? Why did I give him a damn key to my house? I thought.

“You’re right, babe,” I responded, placing the ice cream back in the freezer, only for him to go behind me and dump it in the garbage disposal.

“You want to talk about the man whose face you were in tonight?”

Here he goes again. For him to be such an intelligent man, he lets his imagination run wild.

“And what man would that be?” I questioned.

“The man at the Lion’s Den Bar at the table with you.”

“He was no one,” I answered, irritated that he was spying on me.

“He didn’t look like he was no one. It seemed he knew you well with how close he stood to you and how you were smiling all in his face.”

“I’m not about to do this with you tonight—or any other night.”

I practically stomped to my room, stripping out of my clothes and pulling out a night tee to sleep in. He stood at the door watching me with his face contorted.

“What?” I raised my voice, annoyed with him.

“You need to lose at least eighty more pounds before you start stripping in front of me.”

His words were like a bulldozer to my heart. I shouldn’t have been shocked. He has said way worse to me, but tonight, for some reason, it hurt like it was the first time. I looked down at myself, remembering a time I loved everything about me. Years of being with a man who puts me down every chance he gets does this to you.

When I first met Michael, he was so attentive and loving. He stayed that way for about two years before he started doing what he called “critiquing” me. Critiquing turned into criticizing, and criticizing turned into blatantly being disrespectful. Then he began working on my self-esteem, reminding me no one else would want me. He was my first everything. I pray every day that we can return to how it used to be. But as each day passes, I know the chances get slimmer. Other than his little quirks, he’s a good man, or at least as good as I can get.

“At least you thought about what we talked about and acted on it,” my father, Collen, said from the other side of the table.

When I moved back to Chicago several months ago, my father talked with me about my nonexistent dating habits and my ex-girlfriend, Allysa. Allysa and I dated throughout high school and half of college. That girl was the best thing in my entire little world, but she always complained about our long-distance relationship. We would travel back and forth every chance we got. My being in Massachusetts at Harvard and her being in Chicago at UIC took a toll on us and our relationship. She complained about travel and being unable to see me when she wanted until she stopped answering my calls one day.

When I rushed to Chicago to see what was happening, I found her with my childhood best friend at the country club. That was the day I decided to leave Chicago for good. I would spend time with my family over the winter break after college. I chose never to move back here again, but here I am. There’s only one thing that could bring a person back to a place that they have sworn off, and that’s money . . . and a lot of it. I’m a businessman and a damn good one. I have run some of the most lucrative businesses worldwide, including my own. ChasingLan Inc. is a multimillion-dollar company that I built from the ground up. My specialty is restructuring companies.

After pulling together my money and buying out my first drowning company, people began to notice me. I did the same thing three more times, and then the board of executives from different companies started. . .