35. Warren
35
WARREN
A nother month, another auction.
I never thought I'd actually get tired of them.
But as I looked at the girls mingling with my guests… I couldn’t help but wish Addi was amongst them. Not among them, but by my side.
It was the night of the welcoming party. The one where all the billionaires came to take a peek at what we had to offer while the women were paraded around in extravagant dresses and masks.
This should have been the most exciting part.
The party overlooked the city as the sun set. I found myself watching it more than the party itself. I had lost track of how many whiskeys I’d had, and the noise fell around me in a low murmur.
Every so often I found myself following what I thought was a glimpse of her blonde hair, but it always turned out to be nothing more than my own longing manifesting itself.
I could have been the bastard she once thought I was. I could have gotten away with not paying her and around the early termination clause with ease. But I wouldn’t do that. Not to her.
I wanted Addi to have it. She deserved it.
She was the perfect girl for me. Fulfilled every one of my desires. Even if she was a brat, she knew I loved it.
She saw right through me .
And at the end of it, I felt woefully undeserving of her.
I felt… guilty about everything. Even if I had been right in trying to get justice for my own father, I had taken hers away and doomed my best friend.
It was and it would always be my fault.
“Would you be angry if I disqualified one of the girls?” Maxwell asked by my side, drawing me out of my musing.
I turned to look at him to take stock of the situation, but his expression was stone cold. His hair was slicked back, and he wore a fitted suit, but the button-up was undone. His scruff had gotten a bit longer over the last few days, the dark spots under his eyes darker. But I wasn’t one to pry about his home life.
All I knew was that it definitely had something to do with his shitty father.
I followed his gaze to a redhead in a fox mask. She wore a tight-fitting black dress that shimmered under the light with gloves that went all the way up to her mid-bicep.
I know her from somewhere…
“That’s Addi’s friend,” I said, remembering seeing her with this girl when she was out shopping and I was supposed not to be stalking her. “I didn’t know you knew her.”
“Piper’s my best friend’s little sister,” he said, his jaw ticking. “And she should definitely not be here. I’m not sure how Dante got it past me, but?—”
“Maybe you just don’t pay enough attention,” Dante chimed in, coming up to my other side. He was wearing a deep blue suit, champagne glass in his hand. “She’s staying.”
For the first time, Maxwell’s face visibly twisted, and before I could stop him, he was stomping off toward the girl.
“Shit. Wait, Maxwe?—”
I grabbed Dante just as he was about to run off after him.
“Leave it,” I ordered and watched as Maxwell all but dragged the girl back to the dressing room.
A better question would be, Why is Addi’s little friend here?
Maybe she heard about the money and decided to cash in as well?
If I remembered correctly, she was a Whitmore. A family that had a long line of steel factories whose revenue made them extremely comfortable.
Her father had come up more than once in one of my investigations, but going after him would take a whole other level of dedication. If I wasn’t prepared, he could eat me alive.
It’s not worth it.
“So? Selection is good this time, hm?”
I gave Dante a firm nod. If I were being honest, I’d barely looked at the girls. To be even more honest, I didn’t much care about them.
All I could think about was Addi. What she would be doing. How she felt after she got the money. What happened with her mom. Wondering if she was comfortable or if she needed anything else.
I was a man obsessed, plain and simply. I wanted her. Wanted her by my side. In my bed. In my life, period.
I thought about her all the time. Couldn’t dream without her voice haunting me. Couldn’t move around my house without remembering her there.
I hadn’t even had the balls to move her desk from my office. It just sat there. One of the few physical reminders of our time together.
I flagged a waiter, grabbing another glass of whiskey and downing it in one go.
Letting her go that first time had been hard.
Now, the giant, lonely hole she’d left in my chest seemed insurmountable, and I had no idea where to go from here.