Orion and Artemis
Vera
Tokyo, four months later
“F. Lazarus. I should’ve known.”
Alistair’s green eyes locked on the man stepping out of the elevator onto Tokyo Tower’s top-deck observatory. Sleek, stylish, and perfectly at ease, he carried himself like someone who knew the entire city was watching.
Light-blond hair fell across steel-gray eyes until he brushed it back with the same casual arrogance he used to dust the cuffs of his tailored jacket. Then he grinned.
“Scotty. How have you been?”
Alistair dragged a hand through his halo of curls. He was dressed down—T-shirt, jeans, leather jacket—but the smirk tugging at his mouth was pure delight. “Nicholas Fionn Quinn. How does it feel to be back from the dead?”
“I feel very much alive,” the man said, voice dripping with charm. He tugged off black leather gloves, clasped Alistair’s shoulders, and pulled him into a hug that was more claim than greeting.
“I should’ve known it was you. F. Lazarus. Fionn, huh?” Alistair beamed pure energy.
Fionn. I once stole Julian’s book on Irish folklore and remembered that name. It meant “fair-headed” and “handsome.” In Irish mythology, Fionn was a renowned warrior who protected the High King. The name suited him.
“Nicholas Quinn?” I stepped forward, extending my hand. “I’m Vera Richland.”
He shook it with eager enthusiasm, his smile as sharp as it was magnetic. “Nick. You can call me Nick.” He looked over to Alistair. “Never thought I’d see the day you ended up with a good woman.”
Alistair’s lashes lowered as he looked at me. “I’m in love.”
Nick took both my hands, grinning. “Ah, Vera. You’re the one who put my sister in prison.”
“I could say I’m sorry about it, but I’m not,” I admitted, glancing at Alistair. “It was teamwork.”
Nick’s eyes relaxed as his lips parted, revealing pristine teeth. “I’m not sorry either. I should thank you. I never thought Saira would lose control over, well, everything.”
“We all thought you were dead, Nick,” Alistair said.
“I wasn’t on the boat when it exploded off the Italian coast.”
“What happened?”
“I slept in that morning,” Nick admitted sheepishly, then cleared his throat.
“Why didn’t you admit you were alive?” I asked.
Nick remained silent for a few seconds, his smile fading.
“At first, I was in shock,” he said. “After the explosion, once the smoke cleared, the fear set in. It stayed with me, gnawing at me. I was certain Saira would find a way to finish me off.”
Noticing his hands tremble, I placed my hand on his. “Saira was a monster to all of us.”
He nodded, the muscles in his cheek twitching as if the memory still lived under his skin.
“My own sister wanted me wiped off the map. She inherited the syndicate that carried out my father’s dirtiest work, and their loyalty now belongs to her.
What I felt wasn’t just dread. It was terror carved into my bones. ”
“I’m sorry for your trauma,” Alistair consoled. “I get it, why you went into hiding. Dealing with her was a bloody nightmare. Fuck.”
Nick gave a faint smile. “On the bright side, Tokyo’s been good to me. I started from nothing, caught a few lucky breaks, and built something of my own.”
Alistair’s mouth curved, eyes warm with memory. “You always had a gift, turning thin air into gold.”
I moved closer to Nick. “Scotty says you drove the final nail in Saira’s coffin. That you helped him cut her out of the business.”
His expression flickered, a shadow beneath the smile. “I had to move so quietly that not even the left hand,” he nodded at Alistair, “knew what the right was doing.” He glanced down, studying his right hand as it tightened around the gloves he still held.
“Jesus, Nick. That’s how Saira plays her games,” I said.
“She only perfected what our father drilled into us.” His nostrils flared, high cheekbones tightening as if the memory still stung. He shifted, gesturing us toward the glass. “Come. See the city.”
Alistair shook his head and laughed. “You know I’m not fond of heights.”
“It’s worth seeing, Scotty,” Nick said, staring at the city’s endless lights under the darkening sky.
“Tokyo looks like Legoland on speed.” Alistair chuckled.
The two men stood together, tall and confident, undefeated despite life’s challenges. Nick was the first to break the comfortable silence among friends. “I’ve grown accustomed to the Japanese culture over the years.”
“Do you speak Japanese?” I asked.
Nick’s grin widened. “Sukoshi dake. Anata wa boku no ichiban no riyū ni naru.”
Alistair arched a brow. “Translation: he just said you’d be his number one reason to stay here.”
Nick caught my hand and brushed his lips across my knuckles, eyes holding mine longer than polite. “I look forward to getting to know you.”
Alistair slipped an arm around my waist, his voice playful but edged. “Hey. I’m done with sharing.”
“Monogamy, eh? Fair enough.” Nick’s smile faded into something wistful. “On another note, how’s Alicia?”
Alistair’s face hardened, his jaw cutting sharp under the lights. “That’s why I’m here.”
Nick’s brow rose. “Oh?”
I turned from the window, Tokyo glittering like a galaxy behind us. “You need to return to Lester Harbor. You have a son who needs his father.”
Nick froze. Color drained from his face as he stepped back, his voice hollow. “I have a son?”
Alistair and I exchanged a look before I spoke. “We met your ex. She isn’t hiding from Saira anymore. And her boy is your mirror image.”
Nick’s throat worked. “Are you certain he’s mine?”
We both nodded.
“The queen is dead. Come home,” Alistair urged.
“Long live the king.” Nick clapped a hand on Alistair’s shoulder.
“And our new queen,” Alistair added, nodding toward me. “Vera and I are moving to Dubai. We need someone we trust to keep Lester Harbor in line.”
Nick let out a low chuckle. “So I’m back in charge of the Quinn family business.” His grin sharpened. “I also heard you’re selling The Church.”
Alistair’s expression was calm, but final. “I don’t have the time for it anymore. Are you interested?”
Nick’s eyes glinted, calculation written all over his face. “Considering it’s a cash cow? Yes. Very interested.”
I sighed, gazing at the neat garden outside our luxury townhouse hotel, a former Geisha house. The tea our butler prepared before leaving had an instant calming effect when I sipped it. The sweet, rich aroma lingered in my mouth for a while before fading away.
“Vera?” Alistair’s deep voice rumbled from behind me as I felt his lips touch the smooth curve of my neck.
“Can you believe Julian and Saph are getting married in less than two months?”
“Mmm, I’m thrilled for them,” Alistair murmured.
I breathed in his musk, feeling my heat rise. For him. Only him. His fingers traced the silk of my kimono-style gown, then untied the belt, letting the garment slip from my body. “Do you want to know something, sweetheart?” he asked.
“Tell me.” I turned to face my lover. He reminded me of a Spartan warrior, lean and muscular in his naked glory. Fresh from a shower, his fresh scent spiced the cool night air.
“I first saw you in a Lester Harbor Daily photo before we met,” he confessed. “I may as well have been Orion, a night hunter captured by your Mona Lisa smile.”
“There was the moment I walked into The Church with—”
“The two buffoons? Those playthings of yours?” Alistair laughed. “I asked Angelique to distract them from you.”
“I wasn’t ready to be played,” I admitted. “Still, you played me.”
“It takes a player to know a player,” he teased. His eyes craved mine with deep, passionate hunger as his brows furrowed. Then, slowly, he got down on one knee. “You are my Artemis. You’re the goddess of the moon, the hunt, and my heart. Vera Kathryn Richland, will you marry me?”
“Alistair!” I gasped as my eyes widened at the sight of an embossed Tiffany velvet box in his hand.
He flipped the lid open, revealing the sparkle of a brilliant round diamond at the center, gracefully woven in an eighteen-karat gold rope design. “Put it on,” he said.
Tears blurred the city lights as joy surged through me, too fierce to hold back.
“Scotty, I’ve wanted to say yes for so long.
I love you, and I’ll marry you.” I pulled him to me, sealing the promise with a fierce kiss, his lips warm and soft against mine, the taste of him flooding through me like home.
“I’ll never stop loving you, for as long as I breathe,” he vowed. He slipped the ring from its velvet nest and guided it onto my finger. It slid into place perfectly.
“How did you know my ring size?” I asked.
“I may have borrowed one of your rings,” he admitted, grinning sheepishly.
“We can call our families tomorrow to tell them about the wonderful news before we tell Bianca,” I gushed like a schoolgirl. “We promised her…”
“Don’t think about them tonight. Right now, it’s about us.”
Alistair set the heavy briefcase on the floor, snapped it open, and unfolded it into a bondage board.
“Oh, Daddy,” I flirted, now dressed in a sexy schoolgirl costume… a tight, white collared shirt, a tartan miniskirt, and a pair of white knee-high socks. “I’ve been naughty again. Will you spank me?”
“No.” Alistair sighed, gazing at my long legs. “I’m not taking the lead tonight.”
“But…”
“Dominate me tonight. That’s my gift to you.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, remembering the trauma he survived in his youth.
He handed me a bamboo cane with a leather handle. “I trust you to take good care of me.”
I raised one eyebrow as he pursed his lips and nodded. “Get down on your hands and knees,” I ordered.
He climbed onto the board without hesitation. I fastened the straps at his wrists and ankles, adjusting each one until it held but didn’t bite. My fingers lingered a moment on his skin, a silent check that he was steady, and that the control was mine now.
“Have you been a good boy?” I asked, my fingers fisting in his hair.
“Yes, ma’am,” Alistair answered, his grin daring me.
“Not good enough.” I dragged the cane across his ass before striking, the crack sharp, precise. “It’s Mistress to you, dirty boy.”