25. Vuk
CHAPTER 25
Vuk
I t took all my willpower to walk away from Ayana in the library. It took even more not to reach out to her in the week after our kiss.
I literally had to have my cyber team install a fucking code that would wipe everything from my devices if I emailed, called, or texted her first. It was that bad.
I’d made a lot of mistakes in my life, but kissing Ayana? It was the biggest damn mistake I’d ever made.
If I hadn’t kissed her, I wouldn’t have known. I’d have suspected, but I wouldn’t have known that she wanted me the way I wanted her. I wouldn’t have tasted her desire or heard her fucking moans.
That knowledge spelled the beginning of my end because there was only one obstacle left between us, and my loyalty to him grew more tenuous every day.
I glanced at Jordan. He scrolled through the movie options in his den, his brow furrowed with concentration. He’d called and said he needed a break from the wedding prep. We usually hung out at my house because I avoided going out in public whenever possible, but I’d opted to visit him today instead of the other way around.
Ever since Roman’s break-in, I’d locked down security at home and limited access to everyone except essential staff. Ayana was the only person on my Always Receive list.
I wasn’t worried about Jordan being a security threat, but I suspected the Brotherhood had eyes on my house. I didn’t want to throw any potential targets their way.
Roman was still pissy about me shooting him and refused to confirm or deny the Brothers’ surveillance efforts. He said he’d gotten called away on business, but he’d promised to give me a heads-up when Shepherd’s faction was planning to strike again. He couldn’t guarantee solid intel for the other faction.
I trusted the bastard as far as I could throw him. So far, everything he’d told me came up clean, but blindly trusting someone like Roman Davenport was the equivalent of signing one’s own death warrant.
I’d cornered Dominic at the Valhalla gala to gauge whether he was aware of his former foster brother’s comings and goings. It didn’t seem like he was, but I was keeping an eye on him anyway.
The Brotherhood, Beaumont, the Davenports…at this point, I might as well run my own spy ring. My security team was already stretched thin, and I hoped nothing blew up in our faces before we solved one of our other problems first. We didn’t have the manpower or the time to train new people.
“I give up. You pick.” Jordan tossed the remote aside and took a swig of beer. “I have decision fatigue.”
I didn’t give a shit what we watched. I wasn’t in a movie mood, but I’d rather stay in than leave the house. Despite Roman’s assurances, I was on edge.
Events like the Valhalla gala were somewhat acceptable because they had high security and vetted guests; movie theaters and other public places didn’t.
Nevertheless, I scrolled through our options and picked a random heist film. Hopefully the distraction would loosen the knots in my gut.
I don’t want you to feel guilty.
He doesn’t love me either. He never did.
Ayana’s admission was seared into my brain. Was it true, or was it wishful thinking on both our parts?
“You’ve been awfully quiet all day,” Jordan said. “Everything okay?”
I gave a curt nod. I just have a lot on my mind.
“With work? You have a new product launch coming up, don’t you?”
I made a noncommittal noise. My marketing and sales teams were on top of the launch, so I wasn’t worried about that. I needed to give everyone at my company big fat bonuses at the end of the year; I’d pulled back from the office, and they’d picked up the slack without missing a beat.
But if Jordan thought my brooding had to do with work, I wasn’t going to correct him.
“Did you think we’d ever be here?” he mused. “You, the CEO of a multibillion-dollar corporation. Me, on the verge of getting married.” He drained the rest of his beer. “Our twenty-one-year-old selves would’ve never believed it.”
People change. I stared at the opening credits onscreen. After a beat of deliberation, I added, You never told me why.
“Why what?”
Why you’re marrying Ayana.
When he first dropped the engagement bombshell on me, I’d been so stunned I hadn’t asked questions. I’d simply gone straight to the shooting range and let my feelings fly in a hail of bullets.
Of all the people in the world, he had to choose her . The only one I wanted.
I knew Jordan and Ayana had been friends for years, but I never suspected their feelings were romantic. The engagement had completely blindsided me, and Jordan had been cagey about when the shift in their relationship occurred.
But according to Ayana, the relationship hadn’t shifted at all. If I hadn’t been so intoxicated by her last night, I would’ve asked why they were getting married if they didn’t love each other.
This was my chance to get the answers I needed.
Jordan hesitated. He cracked open a fresh bottle of beer, brought it to his mouth, and swallowed before answering. “Why else would anyone marry? For love.”
We both know there are other reasons people get married.
“Not in my case.”
So you love Ayana.
He shot me a sideways look. “What’s with the questions today? Did something happen?”
Call it curiosity. I hadn’t questioned him before because I didn’t want to hear him wax poetic about their relationship. That was my mistake. Remember Hungary?
“Oh man, you just unlocked a shitload of memories.” Jordan laughed.
We’d visited Budapest for spring break our senior year of college. Our last night there, we’d stumbled across a wedding in our hotel. We’d crashed it and spent the night partying with the guests, whom we’d conned into thinking we were the groom’s distant cousins from America.
That was one of the last times I’d felt so carefree.
“What a trip.” Jordan stretched his legs. “I can’t believe that was more than twelve years ago. Time really does fly.” He glanced at me again. “Why’d you bring it up?”
When we left the wedding, you told me you’d never marry. Granted, he’d been drunk off his ass, but he’d said it with such conviction that I’d believed him.
“I was young and stupid,” he said now. “I didn’t mean it.”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to gauge whether he was lying.
Jordan had dated occasionally over the years, but before Ayana, none of his relationships lasted more than a few weeks. He’d also never expressed a desire for marriage and kids.
However, that was all circumstantial.
“What about you?” he asked in an obvious bid to change topics. “Will the great Vuk Markovic ever tie the knot?”
My face shuttered.
That depended on what happened in two weeks. If Ayana and Jordan got married, then that was it. If they didn’t…
We’ll see.
The wedding plans were going full speed ahead. There was nothing to suggest the ceremony wouldn’t happen—unless I stopped it.
I tipped my head back and downed the entire bottle in one long gulp. It did nothing for me.
Fuck , I needed something stronger than beer.
“I envy you,” Jordan said quietly. “You can do whatever you want, and you give no shits what other people think. That kind of freedom must be…intoxicating.”
I almost laughed out loud at the irony. Do whatever I wanted? He had no idea. He envied me my “freedom” when I would trade it all for one person in his life.
Freedom is relative. We all have our burdens. I kept it at that.
“Maybe.” Jordan rubbed a hand over his mouth. Neither of us paid any attention to the movie at all. “Do you know why I asked you to be my best man?”
I’m the only groomsman with more than half a brain cell.
His prep school friends were the two-legged equivalent of brainless slime mold. Rub two together and you wouldn’t even get a spark of intelligence.
“No, and be nice,” he admonished, but amusement glinted in his eyes. “You and I have been friends a long time, but I’ve known some of the other groomsmen longer than you. And God knows you’re not a party planner in any sense of the word.”
My eyebrows rose. That was an interesting explanation for a best man, but what did I know? I’d never been married.
“ But ,” Jordan said. “Out of all my friends, I trust you the most. You’ve always been loyal, and you’ve always been honest, even when I don’t want you to be.” He laughed. “No one else had the guts to tell me that fall marketing plan I put together a few years ago was trash.”
That’s because they all have less than one brain cell , I deadpanned.
Jordan snorted. “No, seriously. I mean it. I know this whole best man thing is out of your comfort zone, so I appreciate you taking it seriously. I don’t want to get all sentimental and shit because you’d hate that, but I’m almost glad that thing happened in college. If it hadn’t, we might not be friends. Is that fucked up to say?”
The knots in my gut tightened. No . I understand what you mean.
“Good.” He cleared his throat, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Now that we got the maudlin stuff out of the way, let’s watch the damn movie. I want to know how they’re going to break into that vault.”
We lapsed into silence again.
I faced forward, but my brain was spinning.
It didn’t escape my notice that Jordan never answered my question about whether he loved Ayana. My gut told me he didn’t, but for whatever reason—either pressure from his family or the optics of canceling a high-profile wedding this close to the date—he was adamant about marrying her.
That didn’t explain why Ayana had said yes to his proposal, but this wasn’t the time to press him. Jordan made it clear he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Pushing him would only make him dig his heels in more.
I watched the images onscreen without really seeing them.
My loyalty to Jordan had been a given since the day he wired me five hundred thousand dollars, no questions asked. The money had kept the Brotherhood at bay while I worked out a longer-term solution with them.
However, nothing had truly tested that loyalty until Ayana. The thought of standing next to Jordan at the altar while she walked down the aisle toward him made me want to light the entire fucking church on fire.
So the question was, did my loyalty to him outweigh my desire for her?
My head pounded. I still tasted her phantom sweetness. Still felt her soft lips parting eagerly beneath mine.
I reached for another drink and swallowed, but the taste lingered.
Haunting me.
* * *
After three hours of nonsensical action scenes and shooting the shit, I excused myself and walked home from Jordan’s house. It was only a ten-minute walk, and the neighborhood’s layout provided little cover for hitmen. I also wore my standard Kevlar-reinforced clothing and carried a concealed gun and knives.
A small part of me secretly hoped the Brotherhood would try and ambush me. I needed to vent my frustrations. Plus, once they made a move, I could retaliate instead of dealing with this insufferable holding pattern.
I hated waiting, but I couldn’t go on the offensive yet because Roman was tied up on official business (or so he said). I needed his intel and help to launch a proper attack.
Meanwhile, my bugs in Emmanuelle’s office had proved useless. Unless she was talking in code, it was all bullshit about model fees and bookings. I didn’t expect her to discuss too much sensitive information at work, but if I had to listen to one more conversation about florals versus plaids, I was going to cut my ears off.
I’d put a tail on her in case that would be more helpful. So far, nothing.
Long story short: I was dead in the water on all fronts, and it put me in a real bad mood.
I made it halfway home when a scratching noise caught my attention. I tensed and instinctively reached for my gun, my gaze sweeping my surroundings until it landed on the source of the noise.
A tiny, mangy gray cat glared at me from atop the closed lid of a recycling bin. I didn’t see a collar or other signs it belonged to someone, so it was probably a stray.
I relaxed but glared back.
I never understood why people were so infatuated with their pets. I didn’t have anything against them in theory, but I didn’t see the appeal of opening my house up to creatures who were smelly, needy, and almost certain to die before their owner.
That being said, the cat reminded me of Ayana’s kitten mug, only less cute and more feral. It almost made me soften toward the thing.
Thunder rumbled overhead. The cat hissed, seemingly taking great offense at my audacity to walk past its makeshift playground without proper deference.
Any soft feelings I might’ve had vanished. I was close to letting out a snarl when I realized I was arguing with a fucking cat .
Christ. What was wrong with me today? If the Brotherhood was watching me, they were probably laughing their asses off.
I pulled myself together and walked away, the cat’s suspicious stare burning into my back.
When I reached my house, I went straight to my office, where I tried to get some work done. It was Saturday, but I’d neglected a mountain of official paperwork during the week.
I managed to get through half a dozen documents before lightning streaked outside the window. The rumbles of thunder grew louder and more frequent.
For some reason, my mind flashed to an image of that stupid gray cat huddled under the sparse leaves of a tree. There wasn’t much shelter in the area for stray animals. The little pest was going to get drenched.
Not that I cared. It wasn’t my problem.
I refocused on my computer.
A minute later, the skies opened up. Rain splattered the windows in thick, unforgiving sheets. Another crash of thunder rocked the house, and a needle of unease pierced my skin.
The cat really did bear an uncanny resemblance to Ayana’s mug, and it was both sad and impressive that such a small thing had lasted this long on the streets without protection. Annoying or not, it was a survivor.
I glanced outside the window. It was raining so hard I couldn’t see the sky outside.
My teeth ground together. Dammit.
I pushed back my chair and went to my room. I tossed a black hoodie over my shirt, grabbed an umbrella, and stalked outside. I was instantly hit with a spray of icy water and strong gusts of wind.
I really hated myself sometimes.
I retraced my steps to where I’d seen the cat. It’d disappeared from the top of the recycling bin. A quick search of the area didn’t turn up anything besides a promotional flyer for a women’s clothing boutique.
I was ready to call it quits when a tuft of gray caught my eye. The cat was huddled deep within a bush, shivering. I would’ve never seen it if it weren’t for its tail sticking out.
It let out a half-hearted hiss when I reached for it, but it didn’t make another sound of protest after I picked it up.
Not so tough now, are you? I silently said.
It curled up tight against my chest and continued to shiver.
Thankfully, it was a short walk home. I’d hoped to sneak in without anyone noticing, but as luck would have it, I ran into Jeremiah in the foyer. His eyebrows shot up at the sight of me with a cat in my arms.
“Would you like me to take care of your guest, sir?” He wisely refrained from additional commentary.
I shook my head. It was bad enough that I’d brought the mangy thing home. I wasn’t going to foist it off on my staff.
I headed to the kitchen, wrapped the cat in a towel, and placed it on the floor. From what I could glimpse, I guessed it was a male.
You’re not a guest. I don’t want you here. I only brought you in because you remind me of Ayana.
If he heard my unwelcoming thoughts, he didn’t show it. His face peeked out from the makeshift blanket, his eyes narrowing at his new surroundings.
He was probably hungry, but I didn’t have cat food. What the hell else did cats eat anyway?
After a quick Google search, I set out a bowl of water and some canned tuna. The ungrateful thing didn’t even spare me a thank-you meow before he dove in.
An annoyed grumble worked its way up my throat.
Someone giggled behind me. I whirled around to find one of the maids grinning at me and the cat.
I scowled. Her smile immediately fell, and she squeaked out a “Sorry” before hurrying off.
I stayed and glared at the feline intruder again, unsure what to do after he finished eating. Toss him back out on the street once the rain stopped? Bring it to a shelter for adoption?
This entire situation was so out of character, I was at a loss.
I was saved from stewing in my indecision when my phone buzzed. A cool shock of surprise filled my lungs, followed by a streak of heat.
It was Ayana.
Ayana
Hi
Three chat bubbles popped up, disappeared, then popped up again.
Ayana
Are you busy right now?
I stared at the texts. They were our first written messages to each other. We’d talked in person, but conversations were consigned to the vaults of memory. These were concrete. Definable.
I savored the moment before I answered.
My team’s code didn’t allow me to message first, but I could reply without consequences.
No. I’m not.
Ayana
Would you be able to meet here within the next hour or so?
She sent me the address of a hotel on Madison.
Ayana
We need to talk.
The kiss. We couldn’t avoid it forever.
I rubbed a thumb over my mouth and made a split-second decision.
I’ll be there in thirty.