Chapter 2
Dorian
Iglance down at my jacket, checking the coffee stain is covered. It is, though the wetness of my shirt clings to my chest. A reminder of the young woman who put it there.
Christ almighty. Of all the things to happen to me.
Funny how the past has a way of sneaking up on you.
In my case, I seem to be haunted by ghosts.
Elodie Harper.
Her name rings through my mind as I walk down the street, her image following just as relentlessly.
Bright green eyes. White-blonde hair. Those soft, curving lips.
Not sure how I forgot her. Or maybe, like most things from the past, I simply decided not to remember.
That’s what I’ve always done—buried what doesn’t serve me so deep it might as well never have existed.
That said, Elodie Harper looks different from the girl I used to know.
Not exactly like Jack’s little sister, the quiet shadow who used to hover at the edges of our world before everything fractured and burned.
And I don’t mean the tiredness and frustration etched beneath her bloodshot eyes. Or even the gauntness, the way life has clearly taken more than it’s given.
She’s all grown up now.
A woman.
A woman with a body made for the dark desires of a man like me, whether I like it or not.
Which I don’t.
Elodie Harper has always been off-limits to me, and she will remain that way. No matter that my friendship with her brother dissolved as fast and deadly as salt on a snail’s back.
I slow my stride without meaning to, the city blurring at the edges as my thoughts drag backward, uninvited.
It doesn’t take much imagination to guess what happened to her. The signs are all there if you know where to look. She bore the quiet desperation that clings to people who’ve been collateral damage in someone else’s war.
The Harpers losing their business wasn’t just a headline. It was a full collapse. The kind that pulls everyone down with it, whether they deserved it or not. And they blame me.
Elodie was caught in the fallout.
Thinking about her now is pointless.
Still…
I can’t stop myself from wondering what she must have gone through. How did she end up working in a coffeehouse looking like she’s one bad day away from shattering when she had such big dreams?
The thought settles uncomfortably in my chest, so I shove it aside.
Elodie Harper is not my concern.
I’m Dorian Vale. I don’t do concern.
Elodie belongs to another life. One I cut away without hesitation when it stopped aligning with where I was going.
Whatever happened to her is a problem for another time.
I have bigger problems than ghosts from my past.
Yesterday made sure of that.
The main headline is still burned into my mind.
Dorian Vale having an affair with Grace Astor, beloved widow of Montgomery Astor.
As if those words alone weren’t poisonous enough. The motherfucking press went further—they always do. They suggested that my presence in her life somehow caused her husband’s death.
Montgomery Astor was revered across the world. But here, he was considered New York’s golden saint. A renowned philanthropist and visionary. A man whose name you don’t get to tarnish without consequences.
I exhale slowly, my jaw clenched as I cross another street, the sound of traffic fading beneath the pulse of my thoughts.
Grace and I were careful. Discreet. We got together after she divorced John.
We weren’t reckless, and we weren’t stupid. Whatever existed between us—however temporary—had nothing to do with Montgomery Astor’s heart giving out in his home on the Upper East Side.
The man was approaching eighty and had several health problems, including chronic heart failure.
Facts don’t matter, though. Not with a family name like mine that attracts gossip.
The narrative has already been written.
I’m the villain.
The ambitious Vale heir who seduced a man’s wife. The convenient scapegoat for a tragedy no one wants to examine too closely. The man whose reputation was already fractured enough that this fits neatly into the cracks.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I don’t need to check it to know who it is.
My father.
He called three times last night and left one long voicemail.
I’m meeting him first thing. He wants to talk about the ultimatum he gave me yesterday when the shit with John hit the fucking fan.
Get married, he said.
Clean this up. Or you can kiss your future at Vale Global goodbye.
The threat wasn’t empty. It never is with him.
Marriage, to him, is a strategy. A public reset button.
A respectable woman on my arm. A wedding spread instead of scandal. Headlines rewritten.
I hate that part of me understands the logic.
I hate even more that he might be right.
That aside, this situation could have been avoided had I been aware someone was out to get me.
I learned that Vale Global has a fucking mole. A goddamn leak. Someone who’s been trying to destroy us from the inside. They wanted this scandal to break. Just like all the others.
They started this crusade years ago when they tried to ruin Knox, my older brother.
Now it’s my turn.
I step into the shadow of the Vale Global building, and the thought sharpens in my mind like shards of broken glass. Anger coils low in my gut, poison taking root.
I have to stay focused. I must. Losing my cool now won’t benefit me. I just hate being at someone else’s mercy.
I walk up to the wide stone steps and key into the building, nodding at the doorman without breaking stride. He looks at me a fraction longer than usual, curiosity thinly veiled behind professionalism.
He looks the way everyone else has since the news broke, but they wouldn’t dare approach me.
I step into an empty elevator. As the doors close and the car climbs, I allow the silence to press in and balance my mind, draining away all thoughts that shouldn’t be there. Including Elodie Harper.
It’s time to fight for my legacy.
My father is not a man to trifle with. Neither am I.
I live by my rules. But unfortunately, he holds the keys to the things I want.
Knox is the leader. The chief. I’m the general. The man who fights wars and wins. The Enforcer.
By the time I reach the executive floor, my expression is set and my mask is back in place.
The elevator slows, then stops.
A soft chime sounds as the doors slide open.
I’m already shifting gears, already calculating next moves.
Speak to my father first.
Then tackle the leak.
I step out and immediately clock my surroundings.
I find my brothers standing by the glass wall, coffee in hand.
Knox, Levi, and Locke.
Knox stands at the center, as always. At thirty-three, he’s a year older than me, and calm and controlled in a way that makes people listen. We run Vale Global’s private equity arm together—strategy, acquisitions, the long game.
Levi is twenty-nine, restless energy contained behind a loose posture. Locke is twenty-eight and more measured. The two of them handle hedge funds.
We all share our father’s dark hair, solid build, and sharp European features. But that’s where the similarities end.
We couldn’t be more different from him. And from each other.
I suppose I take it to another level since I live on a different plane of fucked-up than everyone else.
My way of doing things skirts the edge of what most people would call unconventional.
People call Knox the monster. A name he picked up from his football days when he was the ferocious linebacker.
But me…
No one knows what exactly to call me. Me, the cold, callous Vale brother who treads the line of psychotic.
My brothers are deeply engaged in conversation. Probably talking about the leak. They don’t even notice my approach.
Knox was the first person I spoke to yesterday when I discovered this shit. I then called Levi and Locke to put them on their guard.
We’re meeting after I see our father so I can bring them up to speed on the latest developments.
Despite their protests, I’m taking the reins on this myself.
The vengeance is personal. But I plan to get my hands dirty. The kind of dirty I don’t want my brothers involved in. Especially Knox. He has a wife and a baby on the way. That’s where his focus should be.
The only person I’ve asked to do anything is Levi. I got him to revoke our PR and IT departments’ access to our personal equipment and work files. He also set up an external security server to protect our personal devices.
He’s good with computers. Better than me. But I’ll only involve him on a minimal basis.
Knox looks up when I get closer. The others follow his lead, their conversation trailing off as their attention shifts.
I straighten my cuffs and slip on my mask, acting like I’m not raging inside.
“Hey, there,” Knox greets me with a dip of his head. “You alright?”
“I’m here.” I give him a clipped smile and glance at Levi and Locke, who look like they’re trying to assess my mood.
“Is that a good or bad thing?” Levi prods with narrowed eyes.
“Both.” That doesn’t really answer the question, but it is what it is.
I sense I’m in for the same kind of catastrophe I experienced yesterday when I spoke to my father.
We spoke in the early hours of the morning when the scandal first broke.
And the shitty thing about that was, he found out before me.
“When are you seeing Dad?” Knox asks.
“Five minutes.”
“Is he still adamant about this marriage thing?” He looks hopeful that things have changed.
“You bet.” I try to hold back the sarcasm in my tone but fail.
Knox’s shoulders slump, his eyes dimming.
Of everyone, he knows I loathe the subject of marriage.
We all know marriage is expected of us. We’re the next line of leadership.
I thought I would take care of it when the time comes, but this is different.
I’m being forced. And I have three weeks to find a wife.
“There must be something you can do to change his mind.” Locke shakes his head.
“I have no plans to give up. But you know Dad. His company, his rules.” Enough said.