Prologue:
A mysterious prologue in which an unnamed woman makes an unspecified escape, hopes unnamed others can also escape, hides out in the woods, and then shows up at Magda’s house, and Magda is like, “What happened to you, unnamed lady, you were supposed to be here a week ago.”
Chapter 1:
I’m honestly going to copy/paste the description of the first part of this chapter that I sent to my friend because it’s a really accurate summary:
First chapter so far is a sexy rich man info dump about how he’s fucking his brother’s widow and also he’s angsty b/c he’s the black sheep of the fam and can’t stop fucking his brother’s widow who is his best friend but also he has random sex which women he doesn’t care about. Aaaand now he’s running on a treadmill angstilly.
With dance music hammering in my ears and sweat rolling down my back, I drag air into my lungs. [Aer: Otherwise known as breathing.] The pounding of my feet on the treadmill clears my mind as I concentrate on pushing my body to its limits. Usually when I run, I’m focused and grateful that at last I feel something – even if it’s just the pain of bursting lungs and limbs.
He’s so cold he usually needs to run on the treadmill JUST TO FEEL!
Today I don’t want to feel anything, not after this fuck-awful week. All I want is the physical pain of exertion and endurance. Not the pain of loss.
I know Maxim (yes, his name is Maxim because of course it fucking is) just lost his brother and all and is fucking his brother’s wife Caroline, but this expression of pain is so laughably melodramatic and only like five pages into the book where all we’ve experienced is a fuck-ton of info dump and Caroline–who lost her husband two days ago–begging the protagonist to fuck her pain away. Which he does. Angstilly.
Okay so we’ve already established that he’s tortured and works out a lot and has a lot of sex, but what about his money?
Access to a healthy trust fund since I turned twenty-one means I’ve never done a serious day’s work in my life. Unlike my older brother. He worked hard, but then again he had no choice. Today, however, will be different. I’m the executor of Kit’s will, which is a joke.
Oh goodie, he’s rich too!
Then Maxim broods about Caroline some more, which naturally means he info dumps how they met because that’s how human thought works. They became friends at school, lost their virginity to one another (it was apparently “disastrous”) and years later she chose Maxim’s brother over him. SO TORTURED! I’m shocked he doesn’t get right back on that treadmill for another angsty session. With dance music blaring in his ears of course, which overnight has somehow become my favorite detail of this whole scene.
Maxim heads over to the lawyer’s offices where he can’t resist slipping in some more details about what a fuck boy he is when he sees the receptionist.
She’s pretty, in an understated way. If these were normal circumstances I’d have her number within five minutes of conversation, but that’s not why I’m here.
Yes, no shit that’s not why you’re there. We know you’re here to discuss your brother’s will, and it would be weird as shit if you were going office to office to assess the looks of each receptionist and get her number.
The lawyer greets Maxim by his new title:
‘Lord Trevethick, may I offer you my sincere condolences for your loss,’ Rajah says as we shake hands.
‘Trevethick, please,’ I reply. ‘I’ve yet to get used to my brother’s title.’
My title…now.
Oh my god AND he’s a lord now. Wait apparently he’s an earl. Brb I have an angsty date with a treadmill.
Scene jump to having a fancy (angsty) lunch filled with exposition and info dumping.
Known as Viscount Porthtowan since he was born, Kit had become the twelfth Earl of Trevethick at the age of twenty upon our father’s sudden death. At twenty-eight I’m lucky number thirteen. And though I’ve coveted the title and all that goes with it, now that it’s mine, I feel like I’m intruding on my brother’s domain.
You fucked his countess last night. That’s more than intruding.
Despite the fact that he’s technically been mourning his brother this whole chapter, I still don’t feel like he actually gives a shit about his brother’s death. Maybe it’s the robotic nature of his thoughts, maybe it’s how any sadness he has seems to be more tied to Maxim’s own familial insecurities. But it’s been one chapter and I’m already exhausted by this pity party (that seems to actually have nothing to do with real affection for his brother.)
He had the title, he’d won the girl, and I had to accept that. But now everything is mine. Everything.
Even your wife. Well, for last night at least.
Ug.
Maxim reveals that Kit made no provisions for his wife in his will even though he’d updated it four months ago and they’d been married for two years. Just then Caroline texts him, and he just CANNOT so he goes on Tinder instead.
Scene jump to Maxim seducing his Tinder date.
‘What do you want?’ I whisper against her lips.
‘You.’ Her voice is breathy and urgent. She’s turned on. Big time.
Oh my god he sounds just like Christian Grey. BIG TIME!
Do I take her here or in my bed? Comfort wins and I grab her hand.
I don’t even have a joke, I just really think he made the right call. I bet his bed is comfortable AF!
The room is tidy, as I knew it would be.
God bless Krystyna.
That’s his “daily”, which the book helpfully explains is an antiquated term for “a woman who is employed to clean someone else’s house on a regular basis.” I include this 1) because seriously this man’s train of thought is so forced and ridiculous. 2) I’m almost positive the love interest is going to be taking over for Krystyna or already has without Maxim knowing. The second reason is obviously why James has slipped in a couple references to Krystana this chapter, this one was just particularly forced.
The next morning, Maxim angsts about how he wants his one night stand gone, but should he have more sex with her first?? Aragh it’s so hard being him! Not to mention Caroline has sent him angry texts!
She knows the deal; she’s known me long enough. A quick tumble between the sheets isn’t going to change how I feel about her. I love her … in my own way, but as a friend, a good friend.
I guess Caroline might be the villain in this book who tries to stand in the way of true love.
Then it’s time for him to stare out the window at the Thames and angst more about how he has RESPONSIBILITY now.
Guilt overwhelms me. It’s an unfamiliar and unwelcome feeling – Kit has bequeathed everything to me. Everything. And Caroline has nothing from his estate. She’s my brother’s wife. And we fucked.
This book does not need to be 500+ pages, I can tell you that much already. We have tread the same ground like 600 times this chapter already. Seriously all this man does is stare out at the Thames.
Once I’ve ordered a car I wait, staring out across the dark Thames.
While they wait for the cab to arrive for Heather, Maxim’s Tinder date, we get THE MOST CRUCIAL DETAIL OF ALL.
‘This is a lovely flat. Airy,’ she says, and I know that we’ve resorted to chit-chat to fill the awkwardness. She spots my guitar and the piano. ‘You play?’ She walks over to the baby grand.
OH NO FUCK NO! NOT THIS AGAIN! Really? REALLY? We’ve got another angsty rich piano playing alpha male who fucks his way through life without ever feeling LOVE until FEMALE LOVE INTEREST waltzes (or trips) into his life. NOT THE PIANO AGAIN!
‘And all that?’ She points to my decks and the iMac on a desk in the corner of the room.
‘I DJ.’
Oh my mistake they’re totally different. Also do you think his name is DJ Angst?
‘And the photography?’ She waves a hand at the black-and-white landscapes that hang on large canvases in the drawing room.
‘Yes. And occasionally on the other side of the camera.’
She looks confused.
‘Modelling. Editorial, mainly.’
Ah. Of course.
Before she leaves, Heather tells Maxim she hopes he finds what he’s looking for, which is a really weird thing to say unless she has psychic powers. Which apparently she does because this sets Maxim off on another angsty internal tirade before he goes back to bed.
*Also wasn’t sure where to throw in this detail but Maxim’s full name is ‘Maxim Trevelyan.’ Trevelyan is Christian Grey’s mother’s maiden name. No idea if there is a connection and we’re in for some sort of insane(ly boring) crossover bonanza.