Chapter 13
Helena
The clickingof my heels on the concrete floor echoes through the deserted back hallway as I make my way to my small office. Though the DeLux won’t open for hours yet, I couldn’t bear returning to my empty apartment after... well, after Raphael dropped me off here in the grey pre-dawn hours at my insistence.
My mind keeps replaying every detail of last night—the feeling of Raphael’s firm hands gripping my waist, his soft lips trailing burning kisses down my neck, the way he effortlessly lifted me against the wall as I wrapped my legs around him...
He was an attentive and generous lover, sensing exactly what I needed in each moment to reach greater and greater heights of ecstasy. Rough when I craved that delicious bite of pain, then gentle as he tenderly cradled me after. Sweet whispers of adoration one minute, dominant commands the next that left me quivering in submission.
The perfect balance of everything I desired, satisfying needs I never knew I had. He ruined me for any other, awakening passions and sensibilities foreign to my cool and logical nature. I’ve never felt so completely seen and understood before. So utterly consumed with want and affection for someone.
Better to put this restless energy to use going over the books…But if I’m being honest, it’s not numbers that occupied my thoughts all evening, keeping me from sleep. Only rippling muscles, enchanting dark brown eyes, and the stunning realization of how perfectly our forms fit together.
Rounding the corner, I find Eve already at my office door, two steaming mugs in hand. She gives me a knowing look as she passes one to me. “You’re in early, love. Burning the midnight oil again?”
“Just eager to get a jump on things.” I avoid meeting her perceptive gaze directly as I unlock the office and we step inside. The scent of dark coffee grounds tickles my nose from the mug’s rising tendrils.
Eve makes a low sound of sympathy as she settles gracefully into the chair across from the desk. “You work too hard. Have you even been home since yesterday?”
I shake my head, sipping the piping hot coffee carefully. I can’t bring myself to tell her the truth, though. That I spent the night with my uncle’s nemesis—Raphael.
Even the thought of his name sends a flush creeping up my neck. Mercifully, Eve drops the subject without further prying. We chat about inconsequential things as I boot up the ancient desktop computer and open the massive ledger.
The columns of tiny black numbers blur before my eyes. Normally, plunging into the logical world of bookkeeping brings me calm. But today, my traitorous thoughts keep slipping away, replaying memories from last night on an endless loop—Raphael’s grip tightening around my waist as we moved together, his warm brandy-scented breath quickening against my ear, his ravenous eyes devouring me by moonlight...
I shift in my seat, pressing my thighs together tightly beneath the desk. Pull yourself together, Helena! I give myself a little shake and force my attention back to the ledger’s monotonous rows. But within minutes, my thoughts have wandered right back to the virile archangel who’s utterly captivated me, body and soul.
What are you doing to me, Raphael?I’ve never craved intimacy with another so powerfully before. It’s terrifying how quickly he’s dismantled all my defenses, leaving me stripped raw and vulnerable. And the most frightening part is, even knowing the recklessness of it, I cannot bring myself to pull away. I want to plunge deeper into this sweet madness with you, whatever the cost...
The loud clack of Eve setting down her empty mug jolts me from my inner turmoil. She raises one brow at my skittish reaction, but refrains from commenting.
“Well, I’m off to ready the bar for opening.” She smooths non-existent wrinkles from her sleek dress as she stands. “Let me know if you need anything, love.”
“Of course. Thanks, Eve.” I try for a casual tone, but fear my smile comes out closer to a grimace. Her sharp eyes linger on me for a moment before she turns away.
Alone again, I steel myself to focus on the task at hand. There are troubling inconsistencies that require my sharp eye to unravel.
I flip open the ledger, but despite my best efforts, concentration eludes me. I cannot get the feeling of Raphael’s hands on me out of my head. The visceral memory of his relentless grip on my hips as he thrust inside me...
The columns of tiny black numbers blur together on the pages before me. An hour later, I’ve done little more than stare sightlessly at the spreadsheets, idly clicking my pen in growing agitation.
With a huff, I push back from the desk and stand, joints creaking in protest. This is going nowhere. I need to refocus. Those ledgers have been deliberately tampered with, covering a criminal’s tracks and concealing the money trail.
Unease twists my insides. Someone has gone to great lengths to hide the truth. But they haven’t contended with my tenacity yet. Finding those missing pages now becomes my sole focus. No one steals from my family and gets away with it. I vow to uncover every last scrap of hidden information, no matter what it takes.
My jaw sets with determination. I will bring this deception to light and make the guilty party pay, even if it’s the last thing I do. Justice will be served.
The hunt is on. My fingers fly across the keyboard as I compile everything I can find on the elusive Dom Uphir. Most trails lead to dead ends, with no digital footprint to be found. Whoever he is, Dom covers his tracks exceptionally well.
But I eventually unearth a single valid address attached to one of his shell companies downtown. The office location appears average—a nondescript highrise indistinguishable from its neighbors. Still, my instinct buzzes with promise. This could be the break I need.
I do some more subtle digging on private networks, determined to unearth whatever connections may link Uphir back to the club and missing ledgers.
At last, my efforts yield results—after rerouting through multiple exchanges across Europe, I uncover his direct personal phone line. My pulse spikes, palms sweating. This private number would not be easy to obtain. What kind of adversary am I facing?
Heart pounding, I hover over the receiver, his digits already half-dialed. Wrestling hesitation, I finally replace it in the cradle, leaning back with a shaky exhale.
The line rings several times before clicking over to a generic voicemail box. I clear my throat, willing my voice steady. “Hello, Mr. Uphir. My name is Helena Morningstar. I’m currently assisting my uncle with some financial reviews. I was hoping we could schedule a meeting to discuss some questions I have. Please let me know when you have availability this week.”
I leave my number and hang up, leaning back in my chair with a shaky exhale. There, first step done. Hopefully, he will be intrigued enough by my message to call back. Now I just need to figure out my strategy for subtly getting information without revealing the extent of my suspicions about those missing ledgers.
“Dominique Uphir—I’m coming for you,” I mumble under my breath, mind racing. I have to nail down exactly what to ask when he contacts me in return...
My plotting is interrupted suddenly by my cell phone chiming loudly in my bag. My pulse instantly leaps—what if it’s him already?
“Fuck!” I gasp, fumbling for the device. Then I suck in a sharp breath at the name lighting up the screen: Raphael.
With suddenly sweat-slick palms, I open the message. “See you tonight? My place? Around 8?”
Joy and desire burst through me in a dizzying rush. I have to read his words three times over before their meaning fully registers through the delirious haze clouding my brain.
My fingers tremble, and I nearly drop the phone in my eagerness to reply. “Yes!” I type back quickly, followed by, “Can’t wait. Xx”
Only after hitting send do second thoughts creep in. Don’t appear over-eager, Helena. I shouldn’t have added the kisses. Fuck. Will he think me desperate if I agree to meet so readily? Oh, damn propriety—it’s only sex! There’s no need to play coy.
I’m struggling over whether to send another message downplaying my enthusiasm when another alert pops up. It’s from Eve this time, asking me to come to the bar right away.
With a twinge of guilt, I shove away thoughts of Raphael. Back to business for now. Squaring my shoulders, I stride from the office and make my way through the empty club towards the bar.
Eve stands behind the gleaming counter, stacking glasses. She glances up as I approach and grimaces. “Sorry to pull you away, but you’ve got an odd message from your Draven.”
My steps falter. “Draven called?” Anxiety twists my gut.
Eve nods, holding out a piece of the club’s monogrammed notepaper. “He was in a hurry. Said he’ll be traveling for the next couple of weeks and gave me a list of instructions for you to follow in case you need to reach him.”
I take the paper with numb fingers, staring sightlessly at Eve’s angular scrawl. A strange mix of relief and guilt floods me. Relief at having his watchful eye off me for a while longer, and guilt that I welcomed the news so readily.
“Did he... seem upset at all?” I ask Eve carefully. My evasive behavior of late is surely raising Draven’s suspicions.
But she simply shrugs, resuming stacking cups. “Frankly, he sounded relieved to be going off the grid. You know how he gets in his moods.”
I nod slowly, shoulders loosening. It’s true Draven has always been solitary and secretive by nature—people in his line of work usually are. I shouldn’t assume his distance is aimed at me personally.
With the note crushed in my fist, I thank Eve for passing along the message and hurry back to my office, emotions churning. Slumping into my chair, I smooth out the wrinkled paper and read over his brisk words again. Then, before I can think better of it, I take out my lighter and set the corner aflame.
I watch stonily as blackened flakes drift down into the waste bin, the fire eating away Draven’s message line by line. When only ashy scraps remain, I drop what’s left and stamp out the last embers under my heel.
Breathing deeply through my nose, I straighten and lift my chin. No more living in fear of Draven’s reach. For now, an open road lies before me, and I fully intend to take it, propriety be damned.
The exhilaration simmering in my blood isn’t only from defiance. It’s the knowledge that tonight I’ll be back in Raphael’s arms, his glorious bare bronzed skin against mine. The mere thought makes my cheeks burn and sends liquid heat pooling low in my core.
Just then, my cell phone chimes again from my bag. My lips curve into a feline grin. No need to play coy anymore—what I desire is at last within my grasp.