Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
FRIENDS, HUH?
Aldrich
Aldrich’s morning was filled with back-to-back meetings.
By one in the afternoon, he finally had a moment to relax in his office at the Velkomst headquarters and eat his lunch.
He loosened his tie and dug into his Raspeballer while checking the messages that had come in during the meeting.
Ambrose, predictably, had sent another daily photo of his daughter.
Aldrich opened the message from his brother, which included the daily picture of his three-month-old niece, Anaya, in the family group chat.
She was adorable, with a head full of thick chestnut brown curls; her tiny hands curled into soft fists as she gazed curiously at the camera.
It had been two weeks since he last saw her, held her close, and breathed in her delicate baby scent.
Her chubby cheeks and the way her eyes seemed to light up when she smiled were etched in his memory.
His niece was long overdue for a visit from her favourite person, and in two days, he would fly to Trinidad to see her.
Naturally, Sorinah was playfully challenging his self-proclaimed importance in their niece’s life.
“You’re delusional. You’re not my niece’s favourite person,” Sorinah declared, hands firmly planted on her ample hips, her irritation palpable.
Aldrich responded with a condescending pat on her shoulder, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. “I don’t know about your niece, but I am indeed my niece’s favourite person. She may only be a few months old, but she has excellent taste.”
He allowed Sorinah some leeway, understanding her annoyance stemmed from Nakinah dubbing him the Baby Whisperer—a title that only fuelled Sorinah’s frustration.
Of course, such moments came with their downsides. His mother, seizing on his baby-soothing prowess, took it as a cue to nudge him toward settling down and starting a family of his own.
Aldrich, however, remained steadfast. He had no intention of becoming a father.
Instead, he revelled in his role as the world’s best uncle, finding profound joy, purpose, and connection in his bond with his niece, a relationship that was as heartwarming as it was free of the responsibilities of parenthood.
After all, being the favourite came with perks, like not having to deal with diapers unless absolutely necessary.
He moved on to a message from Sorinah, bracing himself for her usual fiery response.
Feral Kitten
You’ve already made your point. STOP!
Had he, though? Aldrich wondered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
It had been months since the infamous “Panty-rip Gate,” and since then, he’d made it a point to send her lingerie every week. At first, she seemed torn between being genuinely annoyed with him and showing a reluctant appreciation when the initial set arrived a week later.
Feral Kitten
Are you crazy sending lingerie to my office?
Why not? I thought you were the boss.
Feral Kitten
Why are you like this?
You’re welcome
He followed up with another delivery the next week, just to drive home the point that he could effortlessly replace what had been lost. Now, he continued the tradition partly because it irritated her to receive packages at her office—a small, mischievous thrill for him—and partly because he genuinely enjoyed shopping for her, imagining how each carefully chosen piece would accentuate her voluptuous body.
“Just because you’re annoying as hell doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy what you send,” she’d quipped once, half-exasperated, half-amused. “I look good in it, and you have great taste in lingerie. Plus, you don’t buy cheap stuff.”
“Ah huh,” Aldrich replied, his tone a careful mix of nonchalance and provocation. He knew exactly when to needle her and when to let the silence speak volumes. Their dynamic was a delicate dance of playful antagonism and unspoken understanding.
He also knew better than to hand her lingerie in person. She found direct gifts awkward, almost invasive. Sending them, however, was a loophole she tolerated, even if she’d never admit it outright.
The latest package was a set of one-piece sheer backless teddies, each in one of the five sensual colours they came in.
He smirked as he replied to her text message.
I don’t know what you mean.
A photo of the teddies, still neatly arranged in the gift box, arrived.
What are those? Try them on so I can see them better.
Another picture followed—this time of a teddy draped casually around her middle finger.
He chuckled at her cheeky response.
I’ll see you later.
They were set to meet in Ibiza in just a couple of hours.
Aldrich had managed to convince Sorinah to join him for his friend Krishna’s club opening there.
While he wasn’t much of a club person, he couldn’t imagine anyone else who could make the prospect of a crowded, music-filled space even remotely bearable.
The last text he checked before returning to work was from Krishna.
Krishna
You still coming to the grand opening later?
Yes. This is the third time you’ve confirmed.
Krishna
Shoot me. I’m shocked you’re coming. But all work and no play makes Aldrich a very dull boy. Heads up, the clientele at the club are stunning and right up your alley.
The type of women that interested Aldrich had changed. He seriously doubted anyone Krishna had in mind could hold his interest. Besides, he had his hands full with his Kitten, who was likely a source of comfort and distraction in his life.
His response was a one-word text, dismissive yet efficient.
Pass
Krishna, persistent as ever, challenged his indifference.
Krishna
What did I say about being dull?
Aldrich brushed it off with a casual deflection.
Anyways. I’m bringing a friend.
Krishna
What friend?
Aldrich, unwilling to elaborate and preferring to avoid unnecessary complications, redirected the conversation.
I have to get back to work.
He withheld details about Sorinah, knowing Krishna would exaggerate the situation, and he didn’t need the added hassle right now. Besides, Krishna should be focusing on the imminent opening of his club instead of meddling in Aldrich’s personal affairs.
“Since when are you late?” Krishna greeted Aldrich as he was ushered into Krishna’s private office at the club, his tone laced with exasperation.
Aldrich had promised to be there at eleven, but that had been thirty minutes ago.
In his defence, it was entirely Sorinah’s fault.
The champagne mini dress with the plunging neckline and crossover hem barely reached her thighs, and her matching six-inch heels had distracted him the moment she sashayed out of the dressing area like a vision designed to derail his plans.
Admittedly, taunting Sorinah had been ill-advised. As stunning as she looked, she held the upper hand—and she knew it.
“Which one of the sets that I got you did you manage to fit under that skimpy dress, huh?” he asked, his hand gripping her waist possessively, his curiosity piqued.
She pressed a finger to her lip, her expression feigning innocence as she looked upward in mock contemplation. Then, with a slow, shift of her gaze back to his, a predatory smile spread across her face. “None,” she purred in a low, sultry voice that sent a jolt straight to his dick.
Aldrich arched an eyebrow, his skepticism mingling with growing interest. “Really now?”
“Check for yourself,” she taunted, her voice dripping with challenge, and then she leaned in to lick the shell of his ear, a move designed to unbalance him further.
Unable to resist, his finger slipped into the V of her dress, and the quick peek down the front confirmed her claim: not only was she not wearing something he had gifted her, but she wasn’t wearing anything at all.
This revelation demanded his immediate and undivided attention.
The irony, of course, was that when she had redressed before leaving, she had carefully slipped on a matching champagne panty and bra set—a detail that now felt like a trap.
“Sorry, I had an unexpected—” Aldrich’s explanation died on his tongue.
Krishna’s attention shifted to Sorinah with a sudden, sharp curiosity. “And who is this?” he asked, his tone laced with a mix of intrigue and playful charm.
“This is Sorinah, Sorinah, this is Krishna,” Aldrich introduced, observing the appreciative glances that passed between the two. They were both strikingly attractive, and the air seemed to crackle with unspoken energy.
“Sorinah,” Krishna repeated her name slowly, as if savouring its sound, and took her hand with a deliberate grace, bringing it to his lips. “Your name is as beautiful as you are.”
There was a theatrical flair to his words, and Aldrich could tell Krishna was laying it on thick. Sorinah giggled, clearly charmed. “Thank you,” she said, her laughter light and genuine.
This was not the time for Krishna to turn on his signature charm—the kind that made women swoon without him even trying. When he exerted effort, he was downright lethal.
“And how do you two know each other?” Krishna asked Aldrich, his focus still entirely on Sorinah, his hand refusing to release hers.
Aldrich gently pried Sorinah’s hand away from Krishna and placed his own at the small of her back, a subtle gesture of possession. “We are friends,” he said simply.
“Friends, huh?” Krishna raised an eyebrow, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “This is the friend who is joining you tonight?”
Aldrich nodded.
“Mm, this is an interesting turn of events,” Krishna mused, his humour on full display as he continued to observe the dynamic with an air of amused curiosity.
“Come on, DH, let’s get out on the dance floor.” Sorinah sat plastered to his side. One of her legs dropped over his lap, her arm around his shoulder so she could speak directly into his ear. Her body’s heat radiated through him.