Have To Be Mine (The Billionaire Legacy #4)

Chapter 1

DASH

Weddings had always been prime hunting grounds for me, where I was the apex predator. Everyone looked their best, love was in the air, and dancing was an awful lot like foreplay. But since this was my brother Sebastian’s wedding, I had been asked to be on my best behavior.

As such, while everyone was celebrating, I was dismally bored.

I swirled the whiskey and ice cubes in my glass as I leaned one elbow on a high-top table and surveyed the reception space.

Bernadette, Sebastian’s wife and my newest sister-in-law, had nice taste, and she had worked with Mandy, the famous wedding planner and my brother Briggs’s new wife, to make the day everything she had ever dreamed of.

I could see glimpses of her in the blush pink roses and glitter dusted on their petals as they burst from obnoxious centerpieces filled with water and crystals.

But even though this whole day had been planned by the two newest members of the Blackwell family, the whole thing was trademark Blackwell.

Sleek, luxurious, black and gold, nothing out of place. The wedding looked like it could be a set for the cover of a magazine, aside from a few drunken guests wandering around.

On my left, a pair of young girls, probably just shy of legal drinking age, sauntered up to the bar to try their luck at ordering shots.

They were denied and sulked off to the dance floor, where the shorter one tripped on the taller one’s dress, and both went down in a heap of silk fabric and giggles.

To my right, a married couple who I’d seen at recent family weddings were murmuring sweet nothings to each other while she reached behind his back and squeezed his ass shamelessly.

I chuckled when she locked eyes with me and turned neon pink. I shot her a wink. No shame in that game. I respected it.

With my three older brothers all married off and starting families of their own, I remained the last Blackwell standing. My older brother, Adrian, probably saw that as a liability. I saw it as a one-way ticket to getting naked with whatever lucky lady I brought home with me tonight.

Although, admittedly, I kind of missed the competition. Now it was more about getting what I wanted without ruffling everyone’s feathers. Adrian and Briggs were so concerned with our “reputations” these days.

When our father passed away two years back, he’d left his company, Blackwell Couture, to us, and we had all jumped in to make it more successful than ever.

Despite that, my brothers were eager to prove to the world we were worthy of carrying on the family business, and they wanted us all to avoid any scandals.

Adrian and Briggs were like mother hens, watching my every move at this damn wedding. I swore, they would have handcuffed me to a table if they could have gotten away with it. Just to make sure I didn’t do something stupid tonight.

Which brought me right back to how absolutely bored I was feeling.

Then I spotted a gorgeous blonde in a pastel yellow dress with the longest legs I’d ever seen.

She moved like a dancer through the crowd toward the terrace, presumably for fresh air, and glanced back over her shoulder as if she felt me watching her.

A smile curved her perfect lips when we locked eyes, and I grinned.

Boredom cured.

Pushing away from the table, I headed toward the exit to join her under the starry night sky, a perfect place to sweep her off her feet in typical Dash Blackwell fashion. But when I reached the exit door, someone blocked my path.

Adrian.

My oldest brother wore the same expression he always had when I had done something that didn’t meet his very high standards. The problems was, I hadn’t actually done anything. Yet.

“Yes?”

“I need a minute,” he said.

I gnawed at the inside of my lip. A minute in Adrian’s world was never a minute. Whatever he wanted to talk about would be even less riveting than listening to the wedding band playing stale old songs, but the hard set to his jaw suggested I didn’t have a say in the matter.

“Fine,” I said.

I followed my oldest brother through the crowd, past the bar, and the table where Sebastian was currently feeding Bernadette a piece of cake while she laughed.

Adrian led me out through a side door that led to a wide, quiet terrace overlooking midtown.

Sadly, it was not the same terrace the blonde had chosen.

The music thrummed through the glass against a backdrop of soft, muted laughter from inside.

I moved to the railing and looked out at the city lights spanning below and beyond.

Meanwhile, Adrian moved stiffly to stand beside me and braced both hands on the concrete railing.

He inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, just like our father used to do before he hit me with a “you’ve been a bad boy” speech.

“You’ve been a dipshit,” he said.

“I haven’t dipped into any kind of shit tonight. So maybe save the lecture until after I fuck up?”

“I’m not talking about tonight,” he said. “How many calls has it taken to get a hold of you in the last two weeks?”

“Is this a riddle?” I shook my head. “How the fuck should I know? And I return the calls I miss.”

“Greece,” Adrian said.

I turned my back on the city to drape myself on the railing and bask in the glow pouring out of the frosted windows of the venue. “Familiar with the place. Love the baklava.”

“You’re the head of logistics for this Greece campaign.

Vendors have been calling me, Dash. Vendors.

Do you understand how much I enjoy getting calls from vendors at seven in the morning while my son is screaming and my wife is trying to feed him and I am supposed to be drinking my coffee? For a project that isn’t even mine?”

“Not at all, I’d imagine.”

“Producers. Talent managers. The woman from the hotel our team is supposed to be staying at was furious.”

I nodded as he lectured. This was not my first Adrian Blackwell lecture, and it wouldn’t be my last, either.

I had long suspected that Adrian kept a folder in his work laptop with a color-coded breakdown of my failures over the past five or so years, organized by most offensive to least offensive.

He had an uncanny ability of pulling past events out of thin air and holding them over my head.

“The campaign is three weeks from its most important event and the man who is supposed to be running the operation has been unreachable,” Adrian said. “That is not fine.”

I blinked at him. He wanted me to argue, but it was senseless. Sure, I had missed a few calls but I returned them eventually. It wasn’t my fault he had already jumped in by then.

He moved toward me, his stare hardening. “Something has to change.” He searched my eyes before the tightness in his shoulders eased, and he let them drop. “No more fucking around.”

I held his gaze. He held mine. I wasn’t going to argue.

“Understood,” I said with a shrug.

The vein near his temple throbbed, and I had to stare because it almost matched the beat of the song playing inside.

“I’m serious.”

I gave him an army salute. “You’re always serious. You need more sleep.”

He nodded and chuckled a little. “You’re not wrong about that. So maybe step up a little so I can rest easier, huh?”

He went back inside and I stayed on the terrace for another minute, hands on the railing, the night air cool against the back of my neck.

After Dad died, I took over the logistics side of things, making sure everything was where it needed to be so everyone else could do their jobs.

Despite what Adrian thought, I handled my role well.

I just wasn’t perfect. And with a job like mine, no one noticed the ninety-nine times things went right.

They only noticed the one time out of a hundred when something went wrong.

As the family attorney, Briggs took over the legal department. Sebastian moved from being the face of Blackwell to creating the marketing campaigns I was expected to make happen. And then there was Adrian.

The oldest brother and the CEO of Blackwell Couture. We were all equal partners, but he rightfully took the role of our leader. He’d seen us through every storm the company had faced over the last two years.

But I had been right there beside him. Not that he gave a shit.

I shook my head, declining to wallow in self-pity when there was a party going on right behind me. I pushed off the railing and went back inside.

My pretty blonde was dancing with someone else.

“Fucking Adrian,” I muttered under my breath. Cock block. Oh, well, plenty of blondes in the pond.

I made my way to the bar to get another drink and scope out the remaining prospects.

I still had time to turn this night around.

Sebastian had a lot of model friends, and some of the women walking around the reception looked like exotic birds in their extravagant outfits.

The guests in attendance would have looked at home walking the red carpet of a fancy gala.

As I nursed my new glass of whiskey, my eyes snagged on one woman in particular.

She wore a long navy blue gown. It wasn’t one of our designs but was clearly high end.

My gaze swept over every delicious curve the dress showed off.

I drank her in fully, appreciating the way the perfectly tailored gown showed off the swell of her cleavage and the way her hips accentuated her narrow waist. Intensely feminine.

Less showy than some of the dresses around her but somehow more stunning.

Her long dark hair was styled in beachy waves. Bare shoulders. One hand curled around a martini glass. Her left hand as it happened. And the only jewelry was a ring on her index finger.

The universe was telling me she was the one. For tonight.

I adjusted the bowtie of my tux and strode over to her before some lesser man swooped in and deprived her of a night with me.

“There you are. I finally found you,” I said, meeting her gaze.

Her eyes were a dark chocolate brown that I wasn’t entirely prepared for. They assessed me. Not the way people usually looked at me at events like this, with recognition or interest. This was different. This was the look of someone deciding whether I was worth the next thirty seconds of her life.

I had never felt so judged.

“You were looking for me?” she asked.

“My whole life,” I said with a nod. “The girl of my dreams.”

She rolled her eyes at me, no hint of a smile. “You don’t even know me. For all you know, I’m your worst nightmare.”

I leaned in closer to her. “If nightmares looked like you, they would be sweet dreams instead.”

She looked at me, one eyebrow raised. Still no smile on her full lips, painted a dark color that complemented her eyes. Her gaze ran slowly up and down my body. My pants got tighter.

She smiled finally and my cock twitched like it was waving a flag to announce its presence. I moved closer to her and she turned and walked away without a backward glance. It was clear she did not want me to follow her.

I stood there watching her go. What the hell was that?

“What can I get you?”

I noticed the bartender looking at me, pretending like he hadn’t just seen me get shut down by the brunette in blue. I appreciated the man’s professionalism. And my glass was damn near empty. Might as well lean into the evening ahead.

“Whiskey. Neat. And make it a double.”

The man chuckled and nodded.

While he fixed my drink, I watched my dream girl navigate through the crowd. I kept waiting for some kind of come-hither look that she would throw me. Some sign she wanted me to chase her. But I didn’t get it. She didn’t look back. Not once.

I took the whiskey and moved away from the bar. No matter how hard I tried to focus on other things, my eyes kept straying to the dark-haired beauty.

Sebastian and Bernadette were spinning slowly on the dance floor, entirely absorbed in each other. My brother pulled his bride in close, and she rested her cheek on his collarbone. He dropped his head and whispered something in her ear that made her smile.

I looked toward where the dark-haired woman had disappeared into the crowd and spotted her standing near the windows speaking with a well-dressed older couple.

One night. One perfect night with a woman who actually made me work for it.

I tossed my entire new drink back in three gulps, set the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray, and considered my options. I could chase the woman who was not interested in me. Or I could make it easy on myself and find a girl who would appreciate me.

The brunette in blue glanced my way. Our eyes met for half a second before she turned back to her conversation. That half-second felt like a door closing.

I looked at Sebastian and Bernadette, still lost in their own world on the dance floor.

Then at Briggs, who laughed with his wife near the cake table, his head thrown back, her eyes glistening with mirthful tears.

Even Adrian, standing with Elizabeth and bouncing little Buck in his arms, looked content.

His scowl from earlier softened around his wife and son.

They’d all settled. Found their places. Their people.

And here I was watching the woman of my dreams ignore me.

Screw it. If I can’t find love, I’ll take the next best thing.