Chapter 10
Dorian
Iturn on the shower.
The cold water hits hard, immediate, pouring over my head and shoulders.
It runs down the planes of my chest, over the ridges of muscle, slick and unforgiving, turning my skin numb.
I tip my head forward, palms braced against the wall, jaw clenched, and let it keep coming—let it strip everything back to sensation.
But it doesn’t fix anything.
It doesn’t cleanse Elodie Harper from my system or bleed her from my mind.
My fucking cock is harder than it was when I left the club, and the taste of her still clings to my tongue like sin.
Sweet, dangerous sin.
How in the ever-loving fuck did I go from what should’ve been a simple business meeting to buying Elodie Harper in an auction?
And sixty grand for a kiss?
Maybe I did become Levi’s Saint Dorian of Manhattan. If she’d been anybody else, I would’ve fucked her against the wall instead of asking for a mere kiss.
The problem is, the damn kiss opened a door, one I should never want to walk through.
And now I can’t pretend I don’t know what’s on the other side.
I close my eyes and replay the moment—her soft hesitation, the way she kissed me like she was exploring my mouth, the way her lips went from careful to hungry the second I took control.
I’m not an oblivious fool.
I was fully aware of her fascination with me when I was friends with Jack.
I could’ve fed it. I didn’t.
Not because she was off-limits. Not because of the seven-year age gap.
I avoided her on purpose.
I’m not a man a girl like her should ever want.
A girl like Elodie Harper has no business being anywhere near a dark soul like me.
The same goes for me, so I shouldn’t be thinking about her. Or concerning myself with the fact that she still has a fuck of a lot left on that loan to pay.
I remember her best friend Clara. She was shady as shit even years ago. It’s not surprising she pulled such a fucked-up stunt on Elodie. It’s just a shame it happened.
I’m inclined to send out a search party to find her and make her pay, but this is where I need to back down.
With everything going on with Vale Global and the media scandal, I have enough shit on my plate. No need to add more.
My body just needs to get the memo.
I wanted her.
I wanted to do way more than kiss her.
I wanted to corrupt her with my filthy hands and give her a real taste of my dark desires.
If she’d known what I was thinking, she would have run from me, even with her bravado and claims that she’d do whatever she needed to do.
It’s been a while since I actually wanted a woman. Elodie Harper made me hunger for her the way a shark craves fresh, blood-soaked meat.
The fling with Grace Astor was exactly that—a fling.
I was bored, and she was eager to please.
Most of the women I’m with are like that, and they know what to expect from me.
Nothing but mutual pleasure for a night. Maybe two. That’s it.
After that, they become a mere afterthought.
I certainly never got worked up over a fucking kiss.
I press my hands into the wall, my pulse thudding relentlessly, like it’s mocking me.
This ends tonight—these thoughts of my ghost and whatever fascination I had with her.
Elodie got a good chunk of her loan tonight from the auction. Whatever happens next isn’t my concern.
It’s time to put all thoughts of her back in the past where she belongs and close that chapter for good.
* * *
I wake to the sound of shuffling downstairs.
I live mostly alone, with Bertram, my assistant, dropping in when I need him and a cleaning lady who comes with her team to keep the place from looking abandoned.
Neither of them are supposed to be here today.
I sit up and listen.
This time, I catch low laughter—male, familiar. My brothers. Sounds like Locke and Levi.
I scan the room, already irritated. I hate when they show up unannounced. The doors are always open at each of our houses, an unspoken rule, but I’m not in the mood for company.
What the hell are they doing here at this hour?
I glance at the clock. It’s seven a.m. We all have to be at work by nine.
I drag on a loose T-shirt and a pair of joggers, then head downstairs.
My three-story contemporary manor home sits on Billionaire’s Row in the Hamptons, with a clean view of the beach. It’s one of the reasons I bought it. The other reason is distance.
We all have homes scattered around Southampton. Mine is the furthest for a reason.
I walk into the kitchen and am stunned to find all my brothers here:
Levi, Locke and Knox.
It’s been a while since Knox came over, let alone at this hour of the day. Since he married Isla, his life and priorities have shifted, and I can’t fault him for it. Still, seeing him here makes my suspicion spike.
Levi looks up first and grins like this is Christmas morning. “Yes,” he says, as if he’s answering a question I haven’t asked yet.
Locke claps once, and Knox rolls his eyes.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, brows lifting.
Locke steps forward, looking too pleased with himself. “Today, we’re going to help you choose a wife.”
He glances at Levi, who nods eagerly and lifts a clipboard like it’s a weapon. A list is clipped to the top.
I shake my head and hold up my hands. “No. I’m not doing this today.”
“Dorian,” Knox cuts in before I can turn away.
“Knox, please don’t tell me you, of all people, are in on this.” I cock my head and lean against the door frame.
He flicks his palms over. “I hate to say it, but I think it would be wise to get this out of the way sooner rather than later. Time is passing. Fast.”
I pin him with a hard stare. “Finding a wife isn’t something you schedule.”
Levi leans forward, undeterred. “What if we just… sow the seeds today?”
“Exactly,” Locke agrees. “You’d be a lot further than you are now.”
Bastard. He knows I can’t argue. I’ve done nothing, so anything I do would take me further than I am now.
“Come on. Hear us out.” Levi beckons me forward.
I don’t respond or move. I keep thinking.
Levi takes my silence as permission to keep going. “We blocked off most of your day for interviews.”
“Interviews?” I throw him a deadpan stare.
“Yes, interviews. We made a shortlist of fifty potential wives. All of whom have signed a very rigid NDA. And you can meet them all today. Right here.”
“Oh God, no.” The vein at my temple throbs with annoyance. I can’t imagine anything worse than having fifty women in my home, each one hoping they’ll get an offer of marriage from me.
“Think of it as speed dating,” Knox chimes in.
“And we’ll still make it back in time for our late meetings at work.” Levi’s grin widens. “Best of all, Dad gave his seal of approval to take whatever time we needed.”
Locke nods like that’s the final nail.
Dad.
I have no feelings toward him at the moment. Good or bad. But I suppose his approval is worth something. It may even cushion the blow of my fight with Parker.
Or… this could be a way to keep us apart. Dad knows I’m still raging, and he doesn’t want me to snap.
Yesterday at the office was tense, and Parker kept looking at me like I was shit on the bottom of his shoes. In my younger days, I would have kicked his ass just for that.
Knox walks up to me and plants a firm hand on my shoulder. “What’s the worst thing that could happen, bro?”
“Exactly.” Levi waves the clipboard. “The best thing is that you actually find someone you like. If I were you, with the whole Parker situation, I’d want to get a move on it.”
I glare at him.
He’s not wrong. And this—this whole thing, and Knox being here—tells me they’re worried. About me. About my standing at the company.
Our father is a no-bullshit man. He’s always been clear from the get-go that when it comes to Vale Global, there are no exceptions. That includes us.
He may have brought Parker in as a scare tactic, but he’s serious as fuck about giving him the COO role over me.
That aside… I should get a move on finding a wife for other reasons.
Elodie Harper is still living rent-free in my head.
I don’t want her there.
Her with her kiss and her scent and her big doe eyes.
Finding a wife sooner rather than later is one way to fix that problem.
“Alright.” I nod once. “Let’s get this over with.”