Title: Tangled Webs By: Satine16
Chapter 3: Appearances Are Very Deceiving
Summary: The picture perfect world that Warren and Betsy seem to live in, is in fact, not at all
perfect.
Disclaimer: Betsy and Warren do not belong to me, they are property of Marvel. I am not using
them to make any money at all. Please don't sue me! Lance is mine though. He is based off a
friend and will later play an important role.
At approximately 9AM the next morning, Betsy Braddock's phone rang. Waking form
her extremely deep slumber, she stumbled around, eventually finding the phone.
"Hello?" Betsy's drowsy voice poured through the receiver and her accent sounded much
less crisp than normal.
"Hello, love. It's me. I have two hours free starting at eleven o'clock. Are you free for
lunch?" Warren's voice rang clear as a bell to Betsy.
"Of course I am! But only because it's you," she responded in a flirty tone, she had been
jolted awake by the sound of Warren's voice.
"Lance will pick you up in an hour. He'll drop you off at Allegria at eleven, where you
will be meeting an incredibly handsome man for lunch."
"Will I? I thought I was just meeting one of those small dick, prep school fucks," she said
in her sarcastic, toying tone.
"Quite the contrary madam. He is a great kisser, and from what I heard, his dick isn't tiny
at all."
"Oh? Who did you hear this from?"
" A woman named Elizabeth. She expressed it one Saturday night when the two were "
She cut him off, "Okay, I'm meeting you for lunch, aren't I? Now go away and let me get
ready!" she exclaimed into the phone and hung up on him.
One hour later, exactly on time, as always, Lance, Warren's chauffeur, arrived at the
Xavier mansion. A frequent destination for him. He was waiting on the driveway with an open
door for Betsy.
"Good afternoon, Miss Braddock."
"Good afternoon, Lance. How many time will I have to tell you to call me Betsy? Miss
Braddock just seems too formal," she and lance had become fast friends because Warren did not
want her ruining her shoes by driving. She was a proper lady and would travel like one, therefore
Lance drove her around just as much as he drove Warren around.
She got in the back seat, and when he got situated she began a conversation with him. He
was a tall man with a thick mustache. His dark eyes and hair blended supremely with his
mahogany skin and his rich, deep voice always soothed Betsy.
"I'm calling you Miss Braddock until the day I can finally call you Mrs. Worthington," he
said, so sure of himself that it shocked Betsy to the core. She and Warren had been together for
awhile now, but they had never talked about marriage.
"I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself, Lance. We're nowhere near engaged,"
she said practically laughing.
"You're too good for him Miss Braddock. He's human because of you. I think you're the
only thing that keeps him a man and not a cold hearted machine. He'd have to be stupid to let
you walk out of his life. And Mr. Worthington isn't stupid."
The words rang in Betsy's ears and echoed in her skull.
" Here we are, ma'am," Lance exited the car and opened her door.
"Thank you," she smiled and nodded at him as he helped her out. With a small nod, he
closed the door and walked back around to the driver's side.
She looked up to see Warren seated at an out door table. He was wearing a charcoal grey
suit and best pair of black dress shoes. His suit was tailored perfectly to him and even under his
many layers Betsy could see the signs of his amazing body. His broad shoulders and slim hips
always looked spectacular in that suit. He had long gold tresses (his hair resembled Brad Pitt's in
Meet Joe Black, only pure blonde) for as far as Betsy could remember, and she'd been tucking it
away when it fell into his eyes for as far as she could remember. When he saw her exit the car his
face lit up and he unfolded from his sitting position.
She had always stunned him. Every time he saw her she looked better than the last. She
exited the car wearing a powder blue sun dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her
violet waterfall of air, which normally cascaded down to the small of her back, was pulled up in a
tight bun that rested at the base of her neck. She had the latest Dolce & Gabana, beige strappy
sandals on and just enough make up. He loved that she never wore to much, the fact was you
would never know she was wearing any at all. To polish off the look she had put on the silver
locket Warren had given her for their last anniversary. Granted it came with a ski trip, but the
locket was her favorite part.
Warren and Betsy had been the perfect couple for a long time now. Betsy was the girl that
was raised by a multi-millionaire and won horse riding competitions. She went to finishing
school and became as beautiful as a super model. She had inherited all of her family's money
after her father and mother past away. They died in a plane crash on their way to Arizona for
business. So Betsy inherited the company, which she promptly sold, and her families fortune, and
now lives the life of a multi-millionairess. Warren was the boy who went to prep school all his
life and was raised to take over his father's business. Worthington Industries was a gigantic
corporation that could make or break a person with a single phone call. It took struggling
companies and tore them to shreds and it made it's money off those pieces. Warren Worthington
Jr. was an extremely powerful man, and after his passing his son was handed that power on a
silver platter. His older brother Arthur was originally the heir to the empire, but he cut all of his
family ties at the age of eighteen, when his father and mother, Charolette, refused to accept his
fianc‚. The two eloped and Arthur never contacted his family again. He even went as far as to
change his last name. They began to prep Warren for the future responsibility immediately.
Warren Worthington I had started the company and upon his passing, his son, Warren Jr., took
over the company. Now, Warren Worthington III was President and things were going just right.
He was no longer the rich, yuppy son of a multi-millionaire, he was earning his keep in the
world.
"You look splendid, love," Warren said warmly as Betsy approached the table. He handed
her a single long stemmed red rose and kissed her on the cheek. He then breathed in her ear,
"Do you know how absolutely sexy you look in that? I want to just rip it right off you."
She responded in with a deep, sultry breath, "Then I'm lucky we're in public. I don't want
to ruin this dress." With that she gave him a deep kiss. "You're source was right. You are a good
kisser." She lightly and inconspicuously grazed her fingertips across his slacks. And in an even
quieter tone she said " Oooh....and they were right about the other thing too."
He quickly and in a slightly frustrated tone, whispered back to her "Stop it Betsy, or we're
leaving for my place and you won't get a chance to eat!"
She pushed out her lower lip and gave him a sexy little pout.
"Sit down already."
He pulled out her chair and she sat down. He sat down across from her and in no time a
waiter was by their side. They went through the usual dining routine. Betsy always ordered the
wine. Then they would each select and two entrees that catered to their very similar tastes, and
they would eat off one another's plates. Finally, at the end of the meal Betsy would choose a
desert for the two to share. This lunch was going really well, they had flirted, joked and held
hands all afternoon, and it was bringing back the Warren she had missed so much. Since he had
inherited the company it had begun to take up all his time. There were times when they would
schedule a date and he would talk on his cell the entire time rather than pour his affections on her
like he used to. They used to be an incredible couple. They were gorgeous together, they made
each other happy, they were each perfect on paper and the sex was amazing. But now it was work
that came first and they hadn't made love for at least a month. He couldn't afford to stay at her
place and even if she offered to come to his place he needed to be up by 5:30. What they had was
rapidly crumbling into a distant and cold relationship.
Betsy had just ordered the Tiramisu and suggested they take it to go, when Warren's
breast pocket began to ring.
"Just a second love, I need to get this," he lifted his phone out of his pocket and answered
it in his work voice. His work voice, as Betsy called it was much colder and harsher than the
voice he used to speak to her. It was his 'I'm in charge' voice. "Hello. No, that meeting is
scheduled for 1:30. I have at least another hour. I don't care what Morris & Jackson think, I know
we have their company by the balls. There is now way they Fine, fine. I know. Goodbye." With
that he hung up and hit speed dial 6 on his cell phone. "Hello. Lance, come around to the front of
the restaurant," a smile grew across Betsy's face, and it quickly faded, "No, Miss Braddock will
not be accompanying me. I need to get back to the office."
By this time Betsy was looking at him with a look of horror. He had just lost all of the
points he regained from last night. He was back to being the new Warren, even if he wasn't her
favorite person.
"I just ordered desert," she said coldly, "and you're leaving."
"I have to, love. There's a problem at the office and they need me back there," he said a
sorrowful look in his eye.
"But I need you here!"
"Forgive me," he said as he rose from the table. "Here, take my credit card, it'll pay for
lunch and you can go shopping after you finish," he kissed her on the forehead and began to walk
away.
"I have my own credit card to go shopping with," she called after him, "and plenty of my
own money. I need you to be here. You are what I need," she finished in a quiet tone.
She knew not to try and challenge the office when it came to rationing his time. She'd get
the speech again. 'I don't want to waste my life. Blah blah blah. I have a family obligation. Blah
blah blah." God!! Their relationship was becoming more and more about money and less and less
about romance. Warren had begun to give her diamonds and shoes, flowers and shopping trips to
make up for the time he missed with her. As if it would help. Then something hit her like a rock
and knocked all the wind right out of her. She placed her head in her hands and thought to
herself....."I am dating my father."
Chapter 3: Appearances Are Very Deceiving
Summary: The picture perfect world that Warren and Betsy seem to live in, is in fact, not at all
perfect.
Disclaimer: Betsy and Warren do not belong to me, they are property of Marvel. I am not using
them to make any money at all. Please don't sue me! Lance is mine though. He is based off a
friend and will later play an important role.
At approximately 9AM the next morning, Betsy Braddock's phone rang. Waking form
her extremely deep slumber, she stumbled around, eventually finding the phone.
"Hello?" Betsy's drowsy voice poured through the receiver and her accent sounded much
less crisp than normal.
"Hello, love. It's me. I have two hours free starting at eleven o'clock. Are you free for
lunch?" Warren's voice rang clear as a bell to Betsy.
"Of course I am! But only because it's you," she responded in a flirty tone, she had been
jolted awake by the sound of Warren's voice.
"Lance will pick you up in an hour. He'll drop you off at Allegria at eleven, where you
will be meeting an incredibly handsome man for lunch."
"Will I? I thought I was just meeting one of those small dick, prep school fucks," she said
in her sarcastic, toying tone.
"Quite the contrary madam. He is a great kisser, and from what I heard, his dick isn't tiny
at all."
"Oh? Who did you hear this from?"
" A woman named Elizabeth. She expressed it one Saturday night when the two were "
She cut him off, "Okay, I'm meeting you for lunch, aren't I? Now go away and let me get
ready!" she exclaimed into the phone and hung up on him.
One hour later, exactly on time, as always, Lance, Warren's chauffeur, arrived at the
Xavier mansion. A frequent destination for him. He was waiting on the driveway with an open
door for Betsy.
"Good afternoon, Miss Braddock."
"Good afternoon, Lance. How many time will I have to tell you to call me Betsy? Miss
Braddock just seems too formal," she and lance had become fast friends because Warren did not
want her ruining her shoes by driving. She was a proper lady and would travel like one, therefore
Lance drove her around just as much as he drove Warren around.
She got in the back seat, and when he got situated she began a conversation with him. He
was a tall man with a thick mustache. His dark eyes and hair blended supremely with his
mahogany skin and his rich, deep voice always soothed Betsy.
"I'm calling you Miss Braddock until the day I can finally call you Mrs. Worthington," he
said, so sure of himself that it shocked Betsy to the core. She and Warren had been together for
awhile now, but they had never talked about marriage.
"I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself, Lance. We're nowhere near engaged,"
she said practically laughing.
"You're too good for him Miss Braddock. He's human because of you. I think you're the
only thing that keeps him a man and not a cold hearted machine. He'd have to be stupid to let
you walk out of his life. And Mr. Worthington isn't stupid."
The words rang in Betsy's ears and echoed in her skull.
" Here we are, ma'am," Lance exited the car and opened her door.
"Thank you," she smiled and nodded at him as he helped her out. With a small nod, he
closed the door and walked back around to the driver's side.
She looked up to see Warren seated at an out door table. He was wearing a charcoal grey
suit and best pair of black dress shoes. His suit was tailored perfectly to him and even under his
many layers Betsy could see the signs of his amazing body. His broad shoulders and slim hips
always looked spectacular in that suit. He had long gold tresses (his hair resembled Brad Pitt's in
Meet Joe Black, only pure blonde) for as far as Betsy could remember, and she'd been tucking it
away when it fell into his eyes for as far as she could remember. When he saw her exit the car his
face lit up and he unfolded from his sitting position.
She had always stunned him. Every time he saw her she looked better than the last. She
exited the car wearing a powder blue sun dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her
violet waterfall of air, which normally cascaded down to the small of her back, was pulled up in a
tight bun that rested at the base of her neck. She had the latest Dolce & Gabana, beige strappy
sandals on and just enough make up. He loved that she never wore to much, the fact was you
would never know she was wearing any at all. To polish off the look she had put on the silver
locket Warren had given her for their last anniversary. Granted it came with a ski trip, but the
locket was her favorite part.
Warren and Betsy had been the perfect couple for a long time now. Betsy was the girl that
was raised by a multi-millionaire and won horse riding competitions. She went to finishing
school and became as beautiful as a super model. She had inherited all of her family's money
after her father and mother past away. They died in a plane crash on their way to Arizona for
business. So Betsy inherited the company, which she promptly sold, and her families fortune, and
now lives the life of a multi-millionairess. Warren was the boy who went to prep school all his
life and was raised to take over his father's business. Worthington Industries was a gigantic
corporation that could make or break a person with a single phone call. It took struggling
companies and tore them to shreds and it made it's money off those pieces. Warren Worthington
Jr. was an extremely powerful man, and after his passing his son was handed that power on a
silver platter. His older brother Arthur was originally the heir to the empire, but he cut all of his
family ties at the age of eighteen, when his father and mother, Charolette, refused to accept his
fianc‚. The two eloped and Arthur never contacted his family again. He even went as far as to
change his last name. They began to prep Warren for the future responsibility immediately.
Warren Worthington I had started the company and upon his passing, his son, Warren Jr., took
over the company. Now, Warren Worthington III was President and things were going just right.
He was no longer the rich, yuppy son of a multi-millionaire, he was earning his keep in the
world.
"You look splendid, love," Warren said warmly as Betsy approached the table. He handed
her a single long stemmed red rose and kissed her on the cheek. He then breathed in her ear,
"Do you know how absolutely sexy you look in that? I want to just rip it right off you."
She responded in with a deep, sultry breath, "Then I'm lucky we're in public. I don't want
to ruin this dress." With that she gave him a deep kiss. "You're source was right. You are a good
kisser." She lightly and inconspicuously grazed her fingertips across his slacks. And in an even
quieter tone she said " Oooh....and they were right about the other thing too."
He quickly and in a slightly frustrated tone, whispered back to her "Stop it Betsy, or we're
leaving for my place and you won't get a chance to eat!"
She pushed out her lower lip and gave him a sexy little pout.
"Sit down already."
He pulled out her chair and she sat down. He sat down across from her and in no time a
waiter was by their side. They went through the usual dining routine. Betsy always ordered the
wine. Then they would each select and two entrees that catered to their very similar tastes, and
they would eat off one another's plates. Finally, at the end of the meal Betsy would choose a
desert for the two to share. This lunch was going really well, they had flirted, joked and held
hands all afternoon, and it was bringing back the Warren she had missed so much. Since he had
inherited the company it had begun to take up all his time. There were times when they would
schedule a date and he would talk on his cell the entire time rather than pour his affections on her
like he used to. They used to be an incredible couple. They were gorgeous together, they made
each other happy, they were each perfect on paper and the sex was amazing. But now it was work
that came first and they hadn't made love for at least a month. He couldn't afford to stay at her
place and even if she offered to come to his place he needed to be up by 5:30. What they had was
rapidly crumbling into a distant and cold relationship.
Betsy had just ordered the Tiramisu and suggested they take it to go, when Warren's
breast pocket began to ring.
"Just a second love, I need to get this," he lifted his phone out of his pocket and answered
it in his work voice. His work voice, as Betsy called it was much colder and harsher than the
voice he used to speak to her. It was his 'I'm in charge' voice. "Hello. No, that meeting is
scheduled for 1:30. I have at least another hour. I don't care what Morris & Jackson think, I know
we have their company by the balls. There is now way they Fine, fine. I know. Goodbye." With
that he hung up and hit speed dial 6 on his cell phone. "Hello. Lance, come around to the front of
the restaurant," a smile grew across Betsy's face, and it quickly faded, "No, Miss Braddock will
not be accompanying me. I need to get back to the office."
By this time Betsy was looking at him with a look of horror. He had just lost all of the
points he regained from last night. He was back to being the new Warren, even if he wasn't her
favorite person.
"I just ordered desert," she said coldly, "and you're leaving."
"I have to, love. There's a problem at the office and they need me back there," he said a
sorrowful look in his eye.
"But I need you here!"
"Forgive me," he said as he rose from the table. "Here, take my credit card, it'll pay for
lunch and you can go shopping after you finish," he kissed her on the forehead and began to walk
away.
"I have my own credit card to go shopping with," she called after him, "and plenty of my
own money. I need you to be here. You are what I need," she finished in a quiet tone.
She knew not to try and challenge the office when it came to rationing his time. She'd get
the speech again. 'I don't want to waste my life. Blah blah blah. I have a family obligation. Blah
blah blah." God!! Their relationship was becoming more and more about money and less and less
about romance. Warren had begun to give her diamonds and shoes, flowers and shopping trips to
make up for the time he missed with her. As if it would help. Then something hit her like a rock
and knocked all the wind right out of her. She placed her head in her hands and thought to
herself....."I am dating my father."