Chapter 5
Little Swan. That’s what he’d called me. Whether he knew what my name signified, or he’d seen my tattoo, I’m not sure. But what I do know is that the term sounded perfect coming from his lips.
And God, what lips they are. Titillating. Inviting.
Forbidden.
Earlier, when Gavin had told me who the garage we were going to, belonged to, I’d been thrilled – for lack of a better word – rather than scared.
I understand now why he was hesitant about going to Finesse, but that’s to be expected, because he’s the kind of dipshit who’d rather die on a pile of his dust-collecting responsibilities than actually face them.
I sigh, pull my hair up in a half-assed bun, and spritz my mimosa-flavored body mist on my neck and shoulders.
A strong wave of ice-cold wind rushes into my bedroom from my open balcony doors, rustling the silk camisole and shorts I’m wearing. Seeing how hot the day was, it’s kind of a relief to have a chilly weather tonight.
Thunder rumbles in the sky, and somehow, the sound makes me think of Dorran.
He’s beautiful – in every logical way possible. From his curly hair to his defined jaw; from the long column of his neck to his broad shoulders and lean waist. And his eyes…
Fuck, his midnight-blue eyes are a storm waiting to pull me under. They are a direct gateway to my demise, and I am weak for the vice promises I see in them.
Dorran Ledger exudes danger, and I’ll damn myself into hellfire before I even try to convince myself otherwise.
Until today, I’d only heard of him; seen a couple of photos here and there, maybe. But meeting him today, seeing the sheer power he emanates – it was exhilarating. I want more; I want it all.
My feet press against the plush black carpet as I pad over to my bed and grab my phone from my nightstand.
It’s 11:35p.m., and I’ve still not heard from him.
The estate’s gates will lock up in less than 20 minutes, and I know I probably shouldn’t, but I was really hoping he’d show up, just so I could see him again.
It’d been a lucky coincidence that I’d forgotten to grab my card on the way out in the morning, and I guess, in a way, I have Gavin to thank for suggesting Dorran’s garage for my car’s repair.
Speaking of Gavin…
He’s sent me dozens of texts throughout the day, asking if I’m okay. I’d responded to them with an ‘I’m alright; I’m home’ message once I’d gotten to the estate, but he still hasn’t let up. It’s no wonder Dorran isn’t keen on him, and it’s endearing how he kept Varsha from meeting him today.
Spending time with Alex and Varsha had been a treat. We’d spoken about random gossips going around Riverside, street news, and weird fashion trends. It was positively mundane, yet it didn’t, not even for a second, feel empty or hoaxed.
One thing I noticed while being at Finesse today was the sense of ‘family’ Dorran and his friends share.
It’s a concept so foreign to me that it should be painfully laughable, and yet, I couldn’t help but envy the kind of ease the 4 of them have around each other.
Their bond may be physically invisible, but it was right there in the air around them.
I’m about to make my way to the balcony, but stop when I hear the front door opening, and then closing a few seconds later. Staccato footsteps climb up the stairs and reach the hallway, and I wait, with bated breaths, to see if she’ll stop by to ask why I wasn’t at the HQ today.
But I know, even as I try to come up with plausible excuses in my head, that she won’t knock on my door; that she wouldn’t want to know why I didn’t show up at work today, and it’s because she simply doesn’t care.
I can bet everything I have that she must’ve not even noticed my absence during the day. She’s just that ignorant, that cruel.
I have my own office and social media team at Lure. I’d messaged them to take over for me today, and they’d agreed without question. So, while they worked, I’d slept all afternoon in an attempt to pass the time until Dorran showed up to collect the money I owed him.
The smell of rain hits my nose, seconds before it starts drizzling outside.
Mom’s footsteps start to fade, and it’s clear that she’s climbing up to her floor already. I don’t know why, but I scoff and shake my head.
The only times she comes to me is when she wants to use me as her personal punching bag. Otherwise, she’s either always bossing her employees around at the Lure HQ, or fucking random elites in her bed at ungodly hours.
I tighten my hold on my phone and hug myself as another bout of icy wind rushes by me. I look around my room – at the grey walls and white furniture and the mellow lights – and try not to let the screaming silence deafen me.
The estate stands two stories high, starting with the foyer, dining room, and living room at the bottom, my bedroom and personal library on the first floor, and ending with Mom’s office and bedroom on the second floor.
With how extravagant it looks on the outside, the estate feels just as lonely and daunting on the inside.
I’ve had nightmares about being pulled into the walls of the massive hallways, of being ripped to shreds by its long, unforgiving claws as pieces of me fall apart and bare me to the demons that lurk in them.
I reach the balcony, place my forearms on the slightly wet railing, and look out at the vast garden in front of me.
It’s excessive, to be sure, but I’m still grateful for its presence because it gives me something to get lost into.
I feel like the tall, grass-made figurines that surround the expanse hold more secrets than I’d care to list, and every time I walk through the gardens, I feel a sense of liberation that I only feel when I’m driving through the streets of Riverside.
The rain starts falling faster now. Thick droplets pelt the ground, and some even touch my face as the wind blows them in my direction.
I glance at the gates. I can’t see them fully because of the direction my balcony is in, but I can still make out the 8 guards that are stationed in front of it, all of them clad in hooded black ponchos.
They’re the night-shift team – far deadlier than the guards who man the gates during the day.
The rest of the morning shift guards – Mave’s team – along with Mom’s personal bodyguard, Steven, file out of the estate and head for the gates.
Time for them to go home.
The routine is pretty simple: guards are stationed both inside the estate, and at its gates, up until 11:30p.m., and then the night shift comes in, and they only manage the entrance gates.
They are, after all, trained very differently than Mave and his team.
They are ruthless and unforgiving, and can probably end a life with their eyes closed.
A soft, familiar knock sounds against my door.
I smile, turn toward it, and walk over to it before pulling the door open.
Mave is standing on the other side, and when he sees me, he grins, glances around the hallway once, then leans in and presses a long kiss on my forehead.
We’d had sex once – last year. It was after one of Mom’s Lure parties.
I was drunk; I was upset. She’d humiliated me in front of her “girlfriends” by making snark comments on my lack of work ethic.
Mave had escorted me out of the club, into the limo, all the way to the estate, and up to my bedroom.
I’d been crying, and all I’d wanted was to get lost in someone, and he’d just been… there.
But God, was he good. He was rough, brutal, all but painful, and that’s exactly what I’d needed.
In the end, though, we’d agreed that as good as the experience was, continuing on that path would only get him fired, and I couldn’t, for the life of me, lose him. He was kind of my constant; my ‘I’ll always be there for you’ in a world full of egocentric hostility.
Occasionally, when we’re out alone, or when he’s about to head home for the night, he’ll kiss me till I lose every ounce of my breath, but that’s as far as we go. For both of our sakes, of course.
When I’d returned to the estate earlier, he’d been more than upset with me for having left without informing him. I know he starts his shift at 9 in the morning, so I’d purposefully snuck out an hour prior to that.
We’d argued, he’d frowned, and I’d ended up slamming the door in his face. I realize now that I’d acted immaturely, but I’m a damn human being, and I’m allowed to behave irrationally whenever I want.
See? Now that statement itself is immature. Whatever, I guess.
“I’m clocking out,” Mave says, then stealthily wraps an arm around my waist. “But I’m going to get here early tomorrow so that I can avoid failing at doing my job. Again.”
Before Dorran, his touch would thrill the fuck out of me; make me so wet that I’d have to touch myself just to get the edge off. But now – after what happened today – I can’t find it in me to lie to my body and mind.
That brief encounter with Dorran has left me mentally disheveled, and the only thing I can think of right now, is him. His eyes, his smell, his stupidly beautiful smile.
I try to keep my expression neutral as I slowly move out of Mave’s grasp.
He notices that, of course, but doesn’t say anything.
“Aren’t you a bit old to be getting here earlier than your scheduled time?” I say. “Think of your bones, Mave; show them some mercy.”
He laughs, and his grey eyes gleam under the moonlight streaming in through the hallway windows.
“What gave it away – my salt-and-pepper hair?” he muses.
“Your fading interest in wanting to stay alive, more like.”
He scoffs. “I’m 41, Nettie,” he tells me. “That’s barely old.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re 9 years away from having a midlife crisis.”
He laughs again, and it’s kind of a hoarse sound. Warm and comforting.
Mave is way taller than me, and has the build of a damn wrestler or some shit. I used to fantasize about having all of that weight pressed against me, but not anymore.
“You’re a fucking menace, Nettie,” he says.
I give him a quick wink. “Funny. Someone else told me the exact same thing today.”
He shakes his head. “You wanna tell me where you were?”
“No?”
“Come on, seriously?” he pushes.
I sigh and gesture at my body. “I’m alive and in one piece. Isn’t that enough?”
His gaze darkens as he runs it over my frame, then brings it back to my face. “More than, but–”
“Nope, I’m not going to listen to your self-righteous speech again, not tonight.”
He shifts on his feet and raises a brow at me. “Self-righteous?” he chuckles. “I’m hurt.”
“You know how I roll,” I tell him. “I ain’t sugarcoating shit for you.” I cover my mouth to hide a sudden yawn.
“Oh, I know.” He smiles, then briefly touches my cheek before saying, “I’ll let you rest.” He sighs and scans my features again. “Good night, Nettie.”
I squeeze his hand and return his smile. “Night, Mave.” I watch as he crosses the hallway and jogs down the stairs, and once he’s out of view, I close my bedroom door. I’m about to turn around when my phone vibrates in my hand.
I look down at it, and my chest all but tightens when I see his name flashing across the screen.
Dorran: I’m here.
Just two simple words from him, and I’m an absolute mess.
In my daze, though, I quickly realize that if Dorran is at the gates, then 1) The guards have seen him and have denied him access, and 2) Mave is about to walk out of those exact same gates, and if he sees Dorran, then shit will hit the fucking fan. In very unflattering ways.
And also that it’s 11:55p.m.
Fuck.
I run to the balcony and look out. I’m out of breath, a little bewildered, and a whole lot of scared.
Mave high-fives one of the guards at the gates, and the two share a quick laugh.
I search the road outside, but I don’t see him. He told me he’s here, but where the fuck is he?
Mave says something to the guards, then finally leaves, and I watch as one of the poncho-wearing freaks glances at his watch, before making a ‘shut it’ gesture to the others.
Shit.
I check the time on my phone.
11:57p.m.
I look up again, and this time, I see a tall shadow in the trees just beyond the estate.
The guards are too busy working on the security panel to notice it – notice him – but not me. I track his every move.
I’m too stunned not to.
Jesus fucking Christ. What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Dorran?