54. Vuk
CHAPTER 54
Vuk
O nce the truth came out about Emmanuelle, the rest of the pieces fell into place. By the time the holidays rolled around, and the city was blanketed in snow and festive window displays, Beaumont had been effectively dismantled. The FBI arrested all the agents who’d been complicit in her dealings and repossessed the company offices.
That left its former models agent-less, though that was a good thing in most cases. I paid off all of the models’ existing debts so they could start over with a clean slate. If they wanted to leave the industry and go home, I bought them first-class tickets and supplied them with a year’s worth of living expenses. If they wanted to stay, I had my lawyers review their new contracts to ensure they were fair. I also paid for counseling and medical services for those who’d been forced to participate in Emmanuelle’s illicit activities.
I didn’t know any of the models except for Indira (whose success had shielded her from Beaumont’s ugly side), but they all deserved better than what they got.
Unfortunately, and somewhat shockingly, Hank wasn’t one of the complicit agents. He had, however, been found guilty of invasion of privacy and the unlawful surveillance of Ayana and several other models. I may or may not have leaned on the prosecutors to pursue the maximum prison sentence, and I may or may not have asked the warden to make Hank’s time in there a little more unpleasant.
I also set up Enzo’s family with enough money for life. It wouldn’t bring him back, nor did it fully assuage my guilt over his death, but it was the least I could do.
Meanwhile, Ayana had decided to go freelance. She didn’t want another agent; she wanted full control over her own career and finances. She planned on hiring an assistant in the new year to help manage her calendar and bookings.
Ironically, the months she’d taken off from work had turned her into the industry’s hottest commodity. Everyone wanted to book her, and she had jobs lined up through the end of next year.
We were currently at an event for Stella Alonso, a fashion designer she’d worked with since she was a new model. She was hosting a holiday preview at the Vault, and the club swarmed with dozens of guests.
“It’s good to see you back on the circuit.” Stella gave my girlfriend a warm smile. She was even taller than Ayana, with curly dark hair and green eyes that matched the emeralds around her neck. She also happened to be married to Sean’s old boss, Christian Harper. “We missed you in the European shows this year.”
“It’s been a wild fall,” Ayana admitted. “But I’m happy to be back. I can’t wait for the fall/winter shows.”
“Same. Between you and me…” Stella’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “I always thought you were too good for Beaumont. Emmanuelle gave me the creeps. I wouldn’t be surprised if we found out she killed someone too.”
Good instincts. No wonder Harper married her.
“Anyway, enough morbid talk for the night. Let’s meet up for lunch after the new year. I’d love to catch up,” Stella said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to make sure my husband isn’t wreaking havoc in my absence. When Christian’s bored, things tend to…go awry.”
“I understand what you mean.” Ayana gave me a pointed stare.
I returned it with an innocent expression. I’d behaved perfectly this month—except maybe for that time I “accidentally” pushed a guy into an indoor pool for staring at her ass too long. The guy had been undressing her with his eyes in front of everyone at an industry event.
How was I supposed to know he couldn’t swim? He’d survived in the end. Some Good Samaritan had fished him out like a wet rat.
“It was nice to meet you, Vuk,” Stella said.
I inclined my head in a likewise motion.
You missed this, didn’t you? I asked after Stella left.
It was the week before Christmas. We’d spent most of our post-escape weeks at my house or her apartment, lost in a daze of sex and food and sleep. We’d shut out the rest of the world in favor of each other. It was enough for me, but Ayana was a more social creature than I was, and I wanted her to have an opportunity to shine now that Beaumont was out of the picture.
“I did,” she admitted. “Don’t get me wrong. I loved spending time with you, but it’s nice to see some familiar faces again. There are snakes in the industry, but there are good people too. Speaking of which…” She trailed off and looked past me with a grin.
I turned and immediately snorted. Did you go to the islands, or did you fall into a vat of bronzing oil somewhere?
“Hilarious,” Jordan said, rolling his eyes. He’d gone to St. Bart’s over the weekend, and he was at least five shades tanner than before he’d left. “You should think about doing either of those things sometime, or people will mistake you for a corpse.”
That was fine with me. I’d rather roll around on a mat of poison ivy than willingly bake on a hot beach surrounded by sweaty strangers. Whoever invented the concept of sunbathing must’ve been a masochist.
“Did you get everything sorted out?” Ayana asked. “How’s your grandmother?”
Jordan’s face sobered. Orla went into hospice at the beginning of the month. She’d held on longer than the doctors expected, but her time was near. Everyone had mentally prepared for it and were getting her affairs in order.
That was why Jordan had gone to St. Bart’s—to officially hand over her villa there to its new owners. Save for her Rhode Island home, Orla wanted to divest herself of all her real estate holdings before she died and donate the proceeds to charity.
“She’s the same. Always tired now, but she has some fire left in her. She was the one who insisted I go down to the islands instead of letting her lawyers handle it.” He gave us a sad smile. “The old dragon can’t stand to have us all hovering over her.”
He used the term “old dragon” affectionately. Jordan had grown even closer to his grandmother after Thanksgiving, when he’d officially told his family that he was aromantic and asexual. He also never planned to marry, and he didn’t want biological children.
His father hadn’t been present (though he’d apparently been indifferent when he found out), and his mother had broken down about never having grandchildren, but Orla had taken the news in stride. She hadn’t questioned him or tried to convince him he was “wrong.” She’d simply changed her will so Jordan would keep his inheritance.
“People are who they are,” she’d said. “They shouldn’t be punished for it.”
All that time, Jordan had been terrified of telling his grandmother—even going so far as to attempt a marriage of convenience—and she’d turned out to be the most understanding one of all.
“Anyway, I heard you guys were coming, so I swung by to see you and say hi to Stella,” he said. “But I have to leave soon. I’m heading to Rhode Island tonight. I think I’ll stay there until…well, you know.”
“We know.” Ayana enveloped him in a hug. “I know it’s family-only there these days, but tell Orla we’re thinking of her, okay?”
Call us if you need anything , I added.
Jordan responded with another sad smile. “I will.”
We chatted for another few minutes before he excused himself so he could make his flight.
No one had paid our trio any more attention than usual. People had gotten used to our new normal, and the scandalous whispers that’d circulated about Ayana and I dating so soon after they broke off their engagement had died once everyone realized we were all on truly good terms.
“I’m glad he’s spending Christmas with Orla,” Ayana said, looking wistful. “I hope she’s at peace.”
It’s Orla Ford. She’ll be fine no matter what.
She was a tough woman. Death would have to drag her kicking and screaming through its door. Once it did, she’d probably flip the tables and rule the afterlife too.
“That’s true.” Ayana let out a small laugh. “Okay, that’s it. We really need to stop talking about morbid stuff over the holidays. If my parents were here, they’d slap me on the head for it.” She twined her fingers through mine and pulled me toward where the preview was starting. “They’re so excited to see you again, by the way. Expect lots of food and board games for the next two weeks.”
We were spending Christmas and New Year’s with her entire extended family in D.C. We were scheduled to leave in two days.
I smiled. Looking forward it.
I meant it. With Willow retired and living in Oregon, spending time with the Kidanes was the closest I’d felt to having a family since mine died.
Ayana and I took our seats. The lights dimmed, and the preview started. I really didn’t care about fashion, but I loved Ayana’s gasps and laughs of delight at the outfits on display.
“Which one is your favorite so far?” she whispered toward the end of the show.
They all looked the same to me. Lots of red and gold and sparkles.
I shrugged. I guess that lacy thing with the bow. You’d look great in it.
“Is that your way of saying you want to see me in holiday lingerie?” she teased.
I want to see you in everything. Anything. A wicked smile. Nothing.
Her breath caught with an audible hitch. The air heated around us, and when the show ended, we didn’t say a word. We simply stood and left the main floor in unison, our silence punctuated by the occasional breathless laugh until I successfully locked us in the private owners’ bathroom upstairs.
Xavier and I were the only people who had access. Clean marble counters. Polished floors. Backlit mirrors.
Much nicer than the club’s public restrooms, and much better suited for the activities I had in mind.
“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” Ayana breathed when I picked her up and set her on the counter. “We should be downstairs with— oh. ”
While she’d been talking, I’d hiked her dress up and pulled down her underwear. I knelt before her and teased her clit with a gentle lick. “You were saying?”
“Um.” She sounded dazed. “We shouldn’t…downstairs…oh, God yes !”
Satisfaction filled my chest as I drew her clit in between my lips and sucked. She went fucking wild, and I didn’t hold back as I ate her out right there in the club bathroom. I didn’t stop until she gushed all over my face in a screaming orgasm.
There was no sweeter sound in the world.
I rose to my feet and undid my belt. Lust streaked from the head of my cock down to my aching balls. No matter how many times we were together, it always felt like the first time.
Ayana was still shuddering from the throes of her climax when I gripped her hips and lined the tip of my cock up with her entrance. She was on birth control now, and we rarely used condoms anymore.
Thank God. I didn’t have any on me, and if I had to wait one more second to be inside her, I was going to explode.
I groaned at the slick, bare feel of her when I finally sank balls deep into her clenching pussy. She wrapped her arms around my neck and held on for dear life while I fucked her, sweet and slow and then hard and fast, until we were both drenched in sweat and lazy, post-coital contentment.
It said something that I would rather be in a nightclub bathroom with Ayana than anywhere else on the planet without her. Sex or not, I would’ve been happy as long as we were alone.
“Merry early Christmas, srce moje,” I murmured.
Ayana smiled, her face glowing with such happiness it made my heart squeeze. “Merry early Christmas, my love.”
I stilled. My love.
We’d avoided using the L word so far, not because I didn’t feel it—she’d been the only woman for me since the moment I set eyes on her, even if I hadn’t known it at the time—but because I didn’t want her to be pressured into saying it back until she was ready.
More than a month had passed since her kidnapping, but she was still grappling with the events of that day. She saw her therapist twice a week, and sometimes, nightmares plagued her in the darkness. I had saved her life, and I didn’t want her to conflate that with love.
Ayana framed my face with her hands, her eyes bright. “I love you,” she said. “Not because you saved my life but because you’re you .” It was as if she’d read my mind. “Grumpy, sweet, smart, loyal…a little stabby at times, but no one’s perfect.” She smiled at my small huff. “I’m in love with every part of you, Vuk Markovic, and I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while. Tonight just happened to be the night I found the courage to do so.”
I love you. Words no one had ever uttered to me before—not in the romantic sense. It didn’t matter because I’d never cared to hear those words from anyone else.
They only held power coming from one person’s mouth.
“Say it again.” My voice was so thick and rough I hardly recognized it as mine.
“I love you,” Ayana repeated huskily. Her eyes shimmered beneath the lights.
I love you I love you I love you.
Nothing had ever felt so right.
I dropped my forehead to hers. “I don’t deserve you, Ayana Kidane,” I whispered. “But fuck, I love you too.”
If hearing those words lit me up, saying them out loud set me ablaze in the best way possible. These flames were sweet and exquisite, not destructive, as they swept away the ugliness from last month to make space for new memories.
And as Ayana and I kissed again, our tongues sweet with the taste of our words, I had a feeling there would plenty of new memories to come.