23. Drake
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Another pitiful sigh escaped someone in the conference room.
Not me, but someone else. Someone who desperately wanted to be anywhere else.
With someone else. I traced the rim of my glass, another drawn out breath passing my lips as my mind wandered to the ethereal, brilliant, amazing woman waiting for me in bed. Hopefully naked.
All the droll conversations of the boring people buzzed around me.
A hive of ass-kissing bees. Gnarled old men in expensive suits swarmed my parents like mummies in Armani wrappings.
Dad had that glint of pride in his eyes he got when surrounded by people who knew his reputation and would lick the bottom of his shoes if asked.
He likely didn’t notice or care about the glazed, faraway stare in Mom’s eyes or the haphazardly held champagne glass in her fingers.
Needing a distraction and concerned for her well-being, I cut through the crowd to my parent’s side. I placed a hand on Mom’s arm and her eyes cut to mine. A moment passed before her gaze flickered with recognition and a slow smile spread across her painted lips.
“My son?—”
“There he is!” Leave it to William Graham to steal the show. “Man of the year, my son.” His worker bees clapped or chortled. “Married to a Montgomery princess. How is the girl, Drake?”
Irritation prickled through me. How dare he speak of the most brilliant woman in the world with such disrespect, as if she was nothing more than a prize to our family, our empire? None of it mattered more than her.
“My wife,” I gritted out, “is well. Thank you for asking.”
His mask twitched as he caught my scorn and sarcasm. Though it didn’t falter as he beamed, ensuring the show went on. “Our stocks have risen since incorporating Montgomery aspects into our analytics—” he droned on for his admiring crowd.
He didn’t stop me, and Mom hardly noticed when I looped my arm through hers and dragged her away.
I deftly stole the champagne glass from her fingers, but she merely drifted along as if in a dream.
We reached the Graham security guards, specifically Mom’s.
She blinked in a dreamlike way as I pressed a kiss to her temple and ordered her guard to escort her home for the night. “Keep her away from the pills.”
“Yes, sir.”
One less weight lifted from my chest, watching her leave.
I grabbed a glass from a passing server’s tray to drink away the pressure of the others.
Overly sweet, bubbling champagne danced over the back of my tongue.
It wasn’t the sweetness I wanted on my tongue, and my mind sank into memories of creamy thighs trapping my head and red-bottomed heels digging into my shoulders.
A rough slap on my shoulder interrupted another sigh, enforcing where the heels had undoubtedly left bruises. I sharply glared at the smirking man gliding into my periphery.
“If you sigh any harder, you’ll blow the place down,” Julian joked. “What’s got your panties in a twist? There are women in those tight business casual dresses here, top shelf drinks, and plenty of office workers ready to blow smoke up your ass.”
I gestured at Douglass across the room, basking in those very things.
He had some admin assistant with copper hair on one arm and a secretary with a short, black bob on the other.
He was only the Director of Workflow, but you’d think he was a Vice President the way he relished in the corporate cock-sucking.
“How is he so pretentious?”
“That’s rich coming from you,” Julian said. “You arrived after the awards had been handed out.”
“How rude of me, really.” Couldn’t care less. I’d had a luxurious shower with my wife after pounding her into a desk. “How were the speeches?”
“The usual drivel of kiss-assery and peacocking.”
“And I missed that?” I tsked and shook my head. “Unfortunate.”
A throat clearing, scoffing really, interrupted us. Dougie had spotted us from across the room and had meandered over, shaking off his small drove of clingers along the way.
“They really let anyone into these events, don’t they?” he said, sipping a glass of whiskey and staring at the beautifully tailored crowd.
“Speak for yourself,” Julian said, lips parting into a wide grin. His darkened gaze observed a passing blonde. “The more the merrier. I’m on the prowl tonight.”
“June from accounting?” Dougie laughed. “In your dreams. She won’t fall for your charms, you snake.”
“I could have her with her skirt up in the conference room on the third floor in an hour if I wanted to.”
“No way.”
“Want to bet on it?”
Dougie rolled his eyes, picking up on Julian’s competitive nature. He’d have June from accounting in the next ten minutes if they made it to the betting stage.
“What about you?” Dougie turned to me.
Julian’s eyes went unbelievably wide.
“What about me?” I drawled.
“What are you after tonight if Julian is going after a blond? You in the market for a brunette or redhead?” The fool was dead serious and grinning about it.
“Are you joking?” Julian asked. “He’s got her lipstick on his collar.”
Dougie blinked, looking between us. His smile faltered. “Are you telling me The Dragon finally found his treasure in a Montgomery? Your family enemy?”
“Dude,” Julian began to admonish him. “Drake’s been head over heels for Helen since he was nine.”
My cheeks warmed, and my chest thrummed with the truth of it. It might have started as a childhood curiosity turned cruel, but nothing had been truer. Even in our years apart, there had been no one for me but her.
Clearing my throat, I glanced over my shoulders to ensure no one was eavesdropping. “Monty and I had a secret relationship at St. Henry’s. We, er, broke up. I didn’t want to risk her safety with our family rivalry.”
Douglas balked, jaw dropping at the long-held secret came to life. “All that time? So, this alliance between the families?”
“It’s real. It’s not just business bullshit on paper. We’re not only working together to uncover the masked, anonymous group,” I said. “My marriage to Helen is very real.”
“He’s whipped, this one is,” Julian said, jostling his arm into mine to keep the mood light. I scowled at him, and that hardly deterred him.
“Helen Montgomery?” Douglas was dumbfounded. His breathing picked up and his brows knitted together. “Don’t you know what she’s like?”
Julian’s smile fell and my stare hardened.
“She—she’s a Montgomery,” Douglas hissed, gripping his glass.
“Faking it is one thing, but you genuinely dated her, and you intend to be loyal to her now?” Unanswered, he barreled on.
“Her whole family is evil and manipulative. Her and her viper of a mother. She’s probably overseen more tortures than you.
” His finger jabbed into my chest and my nostrils flared.
I unconsciously took a step forward.
Julian shot between us, a hand on our chests to keep us apart as the tension rose. “Alright, keep your voice down. We’re still in the office.”
Overstepping Julian, I pressed into Dougie’s personal space, uncaring of the crowd and whoever might glance our way.
His throat visibly bobbed as I towered over him, glaring down my nose.
“Good. She’s vicious and brilliant, and I wouldn’t want her any other way.
Helen might be evil to you, but that’s my wife you’re talking about. I’d like you to remember that.”
“Are you so blind to your family history that you’d accept the alliance? What about everything her ancestors did to yours? Does none of that matter to you?” he shot back.
“Fuck our ancestors. That has no bearing on me or my life or my relationship. I can’t be assed with what her grandfather did to mine, or vice versa.” I reared back, looking Douglas up and down before scoffing.
Julian mirrored my mood, dressing Douglas down.
“You’re one to talk, you hypocrite. We’ve been friends since we were children and that was in spite of our own families.
The Grahams and Rossi’s were enemies for generations and yet Drake and I were running around together in diapers.
Even your own family, Dougie. One of Drake’s cousins put your father in the dirt when he refused to pay his exorbitant gambling debts.
And what did the Grahams do? They took care of you and your mother when they didn’t have to. ”
“You’ve led a privileged life because of the crime families and their mercy,” I said, voice low and vaguely threatening. “Our pasts don’t define us. Otherwise, the three of us never would have been friends and I never would have been given the chance to be with Helen. And she—she is everything.”
Douglas drew back with a sort of cold composure dropping over his furious expression. A sharp grin slashed across his face. “Right, thanks for the reminder that a Graham killed my father and the crime families have been oh so accommodating to me.”
“That has no relevance to our friendship. I didn’t kill your father.”
“That doesn’t dismiss the fact that the blood on your father’s hands stains your own, Dragon,” Douglas snapped.
My knuckles popped as my fists clenched.
A hand clapped the back of Douglas’ neck. Julian peeled him away from me as one might snatch up a feral kitten by the scruff. Once out of range of my fists, I stepped to follow on instinct, teeth bared in a silent snarl.
“He’s obviously drunk,” Julian said with a fake laugh at the end. The droning in my ears faded enough for me to notice the onlookers. He pulled Dougie closer, hissing in his ear. “Get out of here and sober up before you say something you’ll regret.”
Douglas sniffed and dragged a hand through his auburn curls.
His gaze snapped to me, then dragged across the room to my dad, still schmoozing, before he shoved past me.
The burning of betrayal churned in my chest, in my gut, twisting as a knife might.
Resolute, I watched him vanish with a surge of intangible anxiety knotted in my intestines.
“What the fuck has gotten into him tonight?” Julian said.
“No idea, but it doesn’t feel right.”