CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
SAINT
An entire week of staying locked in my penthouse to looking over Prince’s contract for his business deal. He had the paperwork delivered himself before he returned to his city to continue running his business empire. I’ve been carefully looking through every single word since Monday evening.
And it’s Friday, and I’m nowhere near getting finished cause I’m distracted. Burying myself in work is better than thinking about that goddamn kiss.
I’m putting all of my energy into making sure my family’s stable before anything else. That’s exactly what my father wants, what he raised me to be, and I’m damn near tired of being a constant disappointment.
But I miss him.
I miss him like he’s the air I breathe.
And I hate that I never imagined that a single kiss would ever complicate things like this. That it’ll have me thinking of him even when I shouldn’t. Wanting him when my thoughts should clearly focus on the words on this freaking paper.
How did I go from a man who takes what he needs without even flinching to a man who’s absolutely thinking about another man in a way that rivals everything he believes in?
God, I’m so fucking pathetic. For wanting what goes against it all.
My phone buzzes against the polished desk, and I lift my gaze from the contract I have in my mind. I pick up the device and stare at my brother’s name on the screen.
Ever since what happened at the apartment the night I came home from Genesis, we haven’t spoken to each other. He’d only relayed information of what he got from questioning Bernard.
And so far, nothing.
He’s not telling the truth, and that’s the only thing that can save him from my wrath. Loyalty matters to me, and if he did something that makes me question his loyalty. I’d have to fight tooth and nail to find out.
I pick up the incoming call and put it on the loudspeaker. “Brother.” Virgil’s voice comes out as if he’s exhausted.
“Yes, what have you got?”
“Same thing, man.” He sighs exasperatedly. “I think he’s telling the truth.”
“I don’t believe him even for a second.” I rise from my chair and pace my office.
“Bernard went back to the house on Thursday. He knows the house like the back of his hand. He could have easily taken photos of that map and sent them. According to Melody, Syn’s sister, the anonymous tip came in on Thursday night. ”
“What if it were someone else?” he expresses his doubt.
“Who else? No one knows our family as he does. He’s been here since I turned eighteen.” I retort with a sigh.
“I have tried, brother. Maybe it’s time you came down here and see if he’ll talk to you.”
“I’ll be there this evening,” I murmur and hang up, tossing my phone onto the desk. I slide the contract into my drawer and leave my office for my eerily quiet apartment.
I still remember Cross’s words. Basically, he’d told me to go after what I feel and who I feel it for. But I haven’t exactly been taking that advice.
By the time the sun sets, I leave my apartment in my car alone without my valet, driving to the house out of state. I’ve moved a lot of things around after the investigation that could have destroyed everything we have worked for. You never know who might be watching.
As I pull into the old stone house in the middle of the forest, my eyes narrow at the entrance. Virgil stands there, smoking a cigar. Smoke puffs out of his mouth, curling around him. I haven’t seen him smoke in a long time unless he’s frustrated.
The engine dies, and I hop out of the car, slamming the door to get Virgil’s attention. He sees me and drops the unfinished cigar, stomping it under his shoe. “In here.” He waves at me.
He leads me through the entrance down to the basement.
Bernard’s tied to a metal chair by chains, partly hidden by the shadows in the basement.
His head hangs low. His breath comes out shallow and broken.
Virgil has tortured him to the point where he’s barely alive.
Dry blood clings to the side of his head, all over his chest, and his shoulder.
Hearing footsteps, he lifts his head, bruised eyes on me. “You’re here.” He mutters. “I promise, I would never betray this family. I’ve been loyal for the past twenty years.” His words stutter out of me, so weakly he’s barely audible. My eyes track over his limp, broken body.
“Tell me the truth, Bernard. Prince told me you returned to the house on Thursday morning.”
“Of course, I did,” he responds. “To check if there was anything I could find. Any evidence we could have used to rescue you? Yes, I looked around the entire house, the office, and nothing else.”
“And did you find something?”
“Your phones, but it really wasn’t any good. Cyrus smashed them both.” He mutters. I squint and look at his barely open eyes. He looks back at me with an intensity that bores into my fucking soul.
“He’s telling the truth. Get him to the hospital.” I remark without looking up at Virgil as I turn to the stairs.
“Is that it?” Virgil demands, hands apart.
“What do you want from me, Virgil?” I stop at the foot of the staircase and regard him with a deplorable look.
“We don’t have any answers, and you’re just going to fucking walk away.”
“I have this handled. There’ll be answers soon.”
“The answers are literally right in front of you.” He seethes, eyes blazing with fury. “You’re so fucking blind to see it.”
“Is this about Mason?” I take a step towards him. “He doesn’t have any motive to hand over information to whoever alerted law enforcement. He’s my personal assistant.”
“You’ll regret defending him, Saint.” The words wrench out of him.
I don’t respond to that. I turn around and leave.
I need to get my head into something else.
And driving home isn’t the better option.
I drive to the Sovereign to have a sit-down with my cousin, Syn, but his workers informed me that he left for the Red Horn Club.
When I arrive at the club, months of memories hit me like a ferocious storm. Taking what I want. Having what I want when I want it. But I don’t want anyone else. I don’t want a contract.
I want Mason Cole. Even though wanting him is dangerous.
Maybe I should go after what I want, or heed Virgil’s words. Either way, none of this makes sense anymore, and I’ll damn near lose my mind because I can’t seem to choose what I want.
I head into the building, taking the elevator to the strip club.
The door opens into the controlled chaos.
The thumping of music and the flash of intense purple lights.
I snake through the overflowing crowd when I see my cousin eagerly sitting in the VIP booth.
I move to the staircase, and the security man moves aside.
My hand wraps around the banister as I climb the stairs until I appear at the end.
When Syn sees me, his lips curl into a smile, and he waves me over.
I shrug off my jacket as I sprawl down beside him. “I was looking for you.”
“I’m here. For my husband-to-be.” He looks at me.
“Oh, yes, I totally forgot you were getting married.” I chuckle just as a woman in a lace bodysuit appears from the stairs, setting down a bottle of scotch and an empty glass.
“That will be all.” I tell her before she can open the bottle. She gives a brief smile and turns around, sashaying down the stairs.
Over the next two hours, Syn focuses on the dancers on the stage while I down glass after glass of scotch.
I could easily drown myself in all of it.
But none of it makes sense. Everything stopped making sense the moment I saw him for the first time.
And I don’t believe in love at first sight.
I never have. But here I am, thoughts deep into the beautiful brown eyes that remind me of the setting sun.
That makes my heart race and sends heat spiraling through my entire body.
And I wonder how I can navigate this. As much as I want him, what will I do when I have him?
How will I love him? How will I take care of him?
All my life, I have done things logically.
Everything, including sex. So how can I give him something when I have never seen myself as meaningful my entire life.
My thoughts slow to a halt when I see him walking through the crowd with a tray of drinks. Damn, he’s here again. A soft tenderness lodges in my chest.
Tenderness is wrong, yet I hold that fleeting emotion because it makes me feel alive.
I signal the security man to get him for me.
My heart slams ferociously against my ribcage, dreading the moment he’ll walk in.
The moment he does, my breath hitches. That distinct smell of his cologne envelopes me.
Stronger than the smoke and scent of alcohol and sweaty bodies from the strip club.
And I savor it. Because I need it. And I beg him to sit with me, to stay by my side even when I know what it’ll cost. Even when I’m fully aware, he’s better off without a man like me.
He returns to his night duty after a while, and I fucking hate it. So even when I leave the club with my brother, I wait behind.
I wait in my car, counting numbers in my head, trying to keep the excitement inside me from bubbling all over the surface.
When he appears out of the building, I get out of the car and lean against the bonnet with a seductive smirk on my lips. Me. Saint Demetrius King. Going to all this length to get him to come home with me.
I’m a goner.
“Come home with me, please, little devil.”
“You are relentless, aren’t you?” His expression lights with amusement as he stops in front of me.
“Want me to kneel again?” I cross my arms and look at him.
“Not here. Not yet.” So he does like it when I’m on my knees for him.
He circles my bonnet and unlocks the car door, getting inside.
“Come on.” He yells, and I shake my head as I enter the driver’s seat and settle in.
I look up at him with a smile, surprised at the way my body relaxes around him.
And damn, this is the first time I’ve felt so free in a long time.
My eyes are on him even as his cheeks burn.
Just now I see how fucking elegant he is, how his eyes light up anytime he’s flustered.
And that pretty smile does something intensely forbidden to me.
I should run and never look back. But I turn on the engine and slam my legs against the gas, taking us home.