Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
PRIEST
I sat in the office of my penthouse in Philadelphia, nursing a bottle of alcohol, and smoking which I gave up the day I tied the knot with Ivy. I kept watching the security monitors. Certain screens showed surveillance footage of Ireland, and on another, footage of when I first touched Ivy in the hallway of my club played. I’d watched it on repeat for the past two hours.
And all the while I waited for my purchase of Lisbon Telecommunications to go through so I’d have access to the surveillance of Lisbon where Ivy currently was.
I threw my head back as images from that night flew through my mind.
Upon learning the call I received was phony, I returned to the club, irritated and ready to make someone pay for the fuckup. As I stepped inside, hordes of people parted like the Red Sea and others scattered like chickens.
I made my way to the private corridor that led to my office when I came to a slow stop. I narrowed my eyes on the woman who’d captured my interest mere weeks ago when she and her friends strutted into my brother’s casino in Chicago and wreaked havoc.
I strolled toward her silently, and the moment she spotted me, she went still. Despite her nervousness, the little minx didn’t run. Instead, she continued staring at me, likely aware of the fact that I had her cornered.
Despite our height difference, she looked me straight in the eyes. High cheekbones, petite nose, and full lips, almond-shaped hazel eyes, exquisite body and skin that would tempt a saint, never mind a devil.
Lucky for her, I was a broken man, and tonight I was in the mood to teach her a lesson.
The delicate skin of her throat worked up and down as she swallowed. The motion made the viselike grip in my chest tighten, stealing my fucking breath.
A subtle blush ran up her neck and she cleared her throat. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Forget about pleasantries.” I grunted, inhaling her scent. She nodded, almost as if in a trance. “Now look at me.”
She lifted her head, staring up at me with those beautiful eyes as I sunk to my knees and tasted her. It was game over right there and then. She would forever be imprinted in my mind and my heart.
I just didn’t know it then.
A beeping sound pulled me from my reverie and images of Lisbon finally filtered in. I typed in her sister’s address—being a good hacker had its advantages–and the barrage of footage filtered in, making it difficult to process anything. It wasn’t until I saw her that my brain cells slowed down.
Long red curls. Yellow dress. She was a vision.
I leaned in, hungry to see every line of her body, my heart heavy. I didn’t think it was possible to miss someone so much. Surprisingly, all the shit that was coming out in therapy was helping with every aspect of my life except for my love life.
I scoffed softly. If it could even be called a love life with this constant presence of ache in my heart.
Occasionally—okay, every second of the day—it made me contemplate kidnapping Ivy. I could bring her back by force and wait patiently for her to come around to the idea of us, but the thought of causing her more pain was bothersome.
Fuck , therapy really had softened me.
It might be over for her, but it would never be over for me. I couldn’t think without her near—her smell, her smile, the feel of her hands on me. I missed it like the desert missed the rain.
My throat tightened.
I slammed my fist against the table and reveled in the shock that reverberated up my arm.
I returned my attention to the screen, watching Ivy disappear into the house, her brothers and Kingston right behind her.
“At least there wasn’t another catfight.” Emory showed up out of nowhere, distracting me. It was temporary, but it was better than nothing.
“It’s not over yet.” My words came out slightly slurred, and as I turned over, I saw a double image of my cousin. One Emory on this planet was plenty. Two might just level it.
I blinked, trying to clear my head.
“You should call it a night, Priest,” she suggested, taking a seat next to me, having a perfect view of the monitors. I swiftly exited out of our encounter in the hallway.
I stood up and walked to the window, releasing a heavy breath as I stared at the dark garden outside, the soft hum of the surveillance monitors barely soothing.
“Just admit you want her back,” she said when I remained silent.
“I’ve never denied it, but I need her to want to be here with me.”
“Yes, but maybe you should consider being there with her, because I don’t think Ivy’s coming here and watching hours upon hours of this crap.” She waved a hand toward the monitors. “It’s a waste of time.” My brain was too woozy thanks to the alcohol, making it hard to think. “You know what they say. It won’t happen unless you make it happen.”
“You could use that advice right now, cousin,” I muttered.
She crossed her legs and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “We are not talking about me right now.”
Despite wearing jeans with combat boots most of the time, there was no shortage of men pining after Emory. Of course, good luck to any fucker who tried to get close to her. He would have to get through her brother, Dante, and me first.
“I have an idea,” she offered, but I was too lost in my own thoughts. I tapped my finger against my thigh, then halted as an idea of my own flickered in my foggy mind.
“Do you want to hear it or—” Suddenly, she leaned over, her eyes narrowing on the monitor.
“What is it?” I asked as I strode toward her and retook my seat. But before she could answer, I saw it. Or him, rather. “What in the fuck is Jean-Baptiste doing in Lisbon?”
“My thoughts exactly,” she said.
After a few clicks, I zoomed in and hacked into the public CCTV files too, just to be sure.
“Can we get facial recognition on this?” I asked, and after a few clicks, she had it up.
“It’s him,” she whispered, our eyes darting between two images. It was the same profile, same height and same build.
I tapped the screen. “And he’s got his sights set on my wife.”