I glared at him in a mixture of surprise yet I was still taken aback by how he’d decided to address me—a woman he barely knew. “How is it you know Danish?”
“Well, I have my ways. To be honest, both maternal grandmothers were Danish though my mother has a French last name and my father, a German one. I know quite a few different languages if it makes you feel better. The fact that you are half-Danish hasn’t escaped me you know.”
I attempted to roll my eyes but it was half-hearted. I wasn’t nearly as cynical as I would have liked to be. It just wasn’t in my bone marrow.
Not yet at least.
“And what makes you think referring to me as a your ‘dirty little angel’ should endear me to you?”
Blaine laughed out loud. “It’s just my dark humor I guess—I meant nothing crude about it. For God’s sake, you haven’t even been soiled or tainted . . . yet. But eventually, you will be my dirty little angel and you’ll revel in your new status.”
I crossed my arms against my chest and tried not to sulk. “So, what’s the project you have in mind? Will I get paid? Is it an internship? Will I be working directly for you?”
“That’s a lot of questions for a woman who reveals as little as possible about herself.” He contemplated quietly for a moment before he continued, “You would be working underneath my guise of control but the project is yours. You would direct it and I know you’d be perfect for it because you have all the training needed to handle a bunch of spoiled bitches. Me? I’d kill them all the first day.”
“Well, what is it?” My heart thundered with anticipation.
“There is a reality show that Celebrity Today wants to add to their lineup. It’s asinine and nonsensical—think Housewives or some bullshit like that. Anyway, they already have a title, WAGs apparently.”
“Wives and girlfriends? Of sports stars?” I wondered though it came out more as a question than a statement. “Are you serious?”
“I wouldn’t have said anything about it if the project hadn’t already been given the green light. They’ve got four would-be wives already lined up. Chardonnay Alamilla—wife of mega-superstar football player, Carlos Alamilla from Manchester United. Laurelynn Branson—second wife of superstar Lawrence ‘Cheetah’ Branson, the American golf player. Sasha Radford—wife of mega-basketball player Keyshawn Radford. Zola Matthews—wife of superstar quarterback Keoni Matthews for the Los Angeles All Stars,” Blaine explained casually as if he were just rehashing information he’d gleaned previously.
“Whoa,” I murmured. “They all wanna do this reality show? Why?”
“They’re all the rage, aren’t they? They figure if the Kardashians and a few washed up pseudo-celebs can make it big, why can’t they? It does feed into your whole Andy Warhol, fifteen-minutes-of-fame thesis and whatnot.”
“True. Still, I can’t believe you’re doing this for me. I don’t even know if I would be a good ‘anything’—I haven’t stepped out of the academic environment in so long, it’s hard to maintain being a ‘people person.’”
Blaine wrapped an arm around my shoulders and for some reason, this didn’t bother me as much it should have. “Well, everyone has to start somewhere, right? I won’t do the project although I would be more than happy to help supervise you. Besides, why not you? I have the connections and I don’t go out of my way to do anything nice for anyone. It’s just not in my DNA. I am an inherently selfish person. I’ve come to terms with that a long time ago and I’m fine with it.”
I couldn’t believe what he was saying and yet, I couldn’t wait to get to L.A. This decision to take the summer off and do something fun yet challenging was starting to look up. How could I have ever questioned my decision when my whole life was about to make a complete one hundred and eighty degree change?
Chapter 3
Zed
Zed paced the large sitting room as Brigitte lit a psychedelic-colored bong and drew the smoke deep into her lungs before she exhaled.
“Jesus, you’re driving me fuckin’ crazy. Are you sure that coke wasn’t laced with meth? You’re a fuckin’ wreck.”
He glared at the surly blonde and remembered at one time how innocent and gorgeous she used to be. Not to say she wasn’t still stunning in the looks department.
It was true they both used illegal drugs recreationally but it hadn’t affected either one of them physically. His brothers liked alcohol but he preferred coke and pot if he wanted to chill out. Alcohol did absolutely nothing for him and he never imbibed.
Brigitte was one of those women who looked much younger than her age. She was almost twenty-six but she still looked fresh and vibrant with her lightly tanned skin, steel blue eyes and dainty features. She could easily rival most young Hollywood stars thus why she was so popular in the underground film community.
She had starred in several of Blaine’s movies but in the “fake snuff” films he made—certainly not any of the real ones. Stunning in the way that only Scandinavian women could be, she lightly bit her bottom lip before she stood and walked toward one of the windows that faced outside. The doors to the pool area were open, not that they were worried about neighbors reporting them for drug use.
The estate the Pascal-Baasch brothers owned together was in the Hollywood Hills. Most of their neighbors were rock stars and superstars who did their share of illegal substances. Plus, they were much too self-absorbed to worry about what the people around them were doing.
“Shouldn’t he and that bitch be on their way here now?” she questioned Zed who sat down and lit the bong she’d just used.
“Yeah, they should . . . and don’t call her a bitch. She’s never done anything to you,” he replied in a cold voice.
Brigitte turned around and walked over to Zed. She sat on his lap, set the bong on the magazine table and ground her crotch against his. “Are you feeling something special for Blaine’s new ‘pet project?’” she wondered, her Danish accent slightly pronounced.
Zed glared at the young woman with cruel violet-blue eyes. “Get off my lap, Brigitte.”
She released her long, flaxen blonde hair from a clip and shook it out like she was starring in her own personal shampoo commercial. “Come on, Zed. There was a time when you felt that way for me. I’m a little jealous if I may say so . . . I’m cool enough to get high with and that’s it?”
“It’s a little more complicated that.” He pushed her off his body and stood. “You belong to Xavier.”
She rolled her bright blue-gray eyes. “Yeah, when he isn’t tryin’ to get with some other skank. You seem very interesting in this new girl and isn’t she . . . temporary?”
“She’s whatever I want her to be,” Zed said as he heard a limousine pull up into the gates of their estate. “And our new guest is here. She may not be so forgiving about the drug paraphernalia and Blaine will have a shit fit if he sees it so why don’t you clean all this crap up and make yourself scarce until Xavier gets home.”
Brigitte pouted and wanted to say something contrary to what Zed had told her to do but she began to clean up their evidence of drug use.
He walked with a purposeful stride toward the front double doors. Blaine opened the doors as the driver delivered the luggage into the hallway. He wrapped a careful arm around Victoire’s waist as she looked around in awe.
Zed was blown over by how beautiful she was. He remembered seeing her briefly the last time he’d bothered to visit his parents but it was enough to know he wanted her to be his.
Blaine tried to act like a tough big brother but both he and Xavier would do anything to make Zed happy. He’d been a sickly child with severe agoraphobia. Although he’d grown to be a stunning young man, he was still extremely shy around individuals he didn’t know. After being home schooled his whole life and never becoming a “people person,” he had no problem attracting women but most weren’t interested in his temperamental personality or his strange proclivities.
Zed had his own secrets and didn’t give a shit about what most wom
en thought of him but he wanted to impress Victoire. She was different.
Smart.
Drop dead gorgeous.
And a real life sufferer of genophobia.
The moment he’d hacked his father’s computer and read his notes about her, he knew he had to have her.
Women with that kind of innocence were harder to get hold of the older he became and once he’d tainted his victims, he no longer wanted them anymore.
Brigitte was a perfect example.
Many of his former girlfriends had come to unfortunate endings once the relationship was terminated. However, many became lovers of his brothers until they had their fill and tossed them to the side.
Blaine seemed like he was already attaching himself and laying claim to Victoire and that wasn’t a good sign as far as he was concerned. Who knew how long this woman would intrigue him and if his brother was already interested in her then he might try to end their relationship prematurely.
Zed tried to rid all negative thoughts from his mind. It was a side effect of cocaine that might have been laced with speed. He was acting paranoid because Blaine would never do something like that him. His brother loved him too much to ever try to take a person who belonged to him, even if he had procured her.
He remembered how his brother had reacted when he initially told him about Victoire and why he wanted her.
“Fine but just know once everything doesn’t work out between the two of you, the girl is going to be a nervous wreck and merely a shadow of her former herself. In that case, it’s just easier to use her in one of my movies then to have her hanging around. Are you sure that’s what you want one of Mother and Father’s prized students to become? This young woman has issues, Zed—much worse than yours. Once you break her, she’s no good to anyone.”
Zed would never let that happen to Victoire. He looked forward to “breaking her” but he still thought she should be able to go on with her life. However, he agreed because it was the only way Blaine would do what he asked of him.
By the way he acted towards the young lady now, it was obvious his brother would never harm her in that way. Their subsequent meetings and the plane ride to L.A. must have put paid to that. In fact, he was acting like Victoire was his equal, something Blaine never did with women.
His brother finally spotted him as he strode their way, feeling more confidence than he should have. Again, another side effect from the cocaine. He always felt invincible when he was on the drug but used it rarely because it was habit forming and Zed was determined to only have one addiction: sex.
He desired, craved and needed it like nothing else that existed in the world.
Not even love could compete.
Well, he was pretty sure of it but since he’d never been in love, he wouldn’t really know.
There was never a woman who’d reached him that deeply he cared enough about her to ever want to spend the rest of his life with her.
Although everything about Victoire was different, he knew he’d never love her either.
Maybe she would keep his attention longer than most of the others due to her phobia of never wanting to have sex but eventually he would grow bored and crave someone else.
It was rinse and repeat—his whole fucking adult life.
Blaine glanced his way disapprovingly before he dropped his arm from Victoire’s waist. His brother knew he was high and stoned. Never a good thing because he would surely get a reaming for being out of control on the day his “present” stood before him.
“Vie, this is my brother Zed,” Blaine began as he looked in the young woman’s direction. “He must have had a rough night—it’s the only way I can explain his disheveled appearance. Zed, this is Victoire but everyone calls her Vie.”
Disheveled?
Zed knew he looked all right with a pair of low slung blue jeans and a black t-shirt he’d purchased at a recent Korn concert. Though his eyes must have been bloodshot—shit, he should have checked out his appearance in the mirror.
Or maybe it was because his arms were exposed. All three brothers had sleeve tattoos on their right arms they’d gotten over the same week while vacationing in Vegas six years ago. It was the only art they had on their bodies but Zed’s was a bit more graphic than the other two.
Blaine had chosen a mosaic pattern that kind of looked reptilian until mid-bicep when several carefully chosen tribal symbols and what not while Xavier had chosen an intricate dragon that had taken the longest to complete.
Zed had chosen a skull and snake tattoo. The skull covered most of his shoulder all the way down to mid-bicep before the snake coiled out of the open skull’s mouth and wrapped around his arm all the way down to his wrist.
It was intimidating and clashed with his pretty-boy looks but he loved the design and still did despite his brothers’ and parents’ disapproval.
“Sorry, I didn’t get a lot of sleep,” Zed murmured in his naturally deep yet sexy voice that had a slight gravel to it. “Nice to meet you, Vie.”
Victoire stared at his tattoo as they shook hands. “Wow. That’s pretty cool. How long did it take you to get it done?”
“It was done in several four hour sessions over a week.”
“I only have a small one, it’s a peace-love-hope symbol above my bikini line. My parents are terribly old fashioned and I wouldn’t wear a bikini in front of them anyway so it’s easy to cover up,” she rambled. “Sorry, nice to meet you. I guess I’m a bit nervous. I didn’t know what to expect. Blaine didn’t tell me much.”
“Why is that not a surprise?” Zed glared at his brother who did not return his stare.
“I’m going to show Vie to her room and then you and me—we gotta talk,” Blaine explained in an authoritative voice.
That was never a good sign, especially coming from him. Maybe he should have done one more line of coke after all.
Blaine paced the sitting room as Zed busied himself by answering a text from Xavier.
“I can’t believe you would get high on the same day I brought Vie here. You better thank the stars she was too busy checking out your tattoo to see you were smashed outta your brains. I could fuckin’ kill you sometimes, you know that?”
“Listen, I planned to be perfectly sober. Blame it on Brigitte. She was the one who broke out the drugs and told me it might calm me down. Though don’t be too hard on her—she was right. I didn’t feel nervous at all,” Zed explained before he used his iPhone 6 Plus to send a text back to his twin.
Blaine snatched the phone out of his hand. “Are you listening to me at all?”
“Of course I am. How could I miss all the insults you threw my way callously and without thought to how I might feel? According to you, I’m an embarrassment because I managed to be high when you brought my new pet home.”
“No, not your new pet, brother.” Blaine leaned down and invaded his brother’s space, knowing how disconcerting he found it. “I’ve decided Vie has other uses than just your plaything. I’ll give you to her but it will be for a limited time and if anyone is going to break her, it’ll be me, not you.”
Zed’s violet-blue eyes narrowed in anger. “When did the rules change? I’ve always been allowed to break them. Since when have I failed to do my job?”
“One word: Brigitte.” Blaine stood straight again and folded his arms against his chest. “You didn’t break that bitch—you just made her like you. There is a difference. A broken woman never thinks she’s anyone’s equal yet that cunt parades around here like her shit doesn’t stink. She shouldn’t question Xavier about where he’s been or whom he sleeps with because it’s none of her fucking business. She should be waiting anxiously for him to get home flat on her back with her legs spread, waiting to do his bidding. You completely failed when it came to her. I won’t allow you to make the same mistake with Vie.”
“I beg to differ. I don’t think I made a mistake with Brigitte at all. She was never mine to break. Xavier wanted to do it and now that he has gotten lazy and bored with her, i
t’s my fault he didn’t follow through? Somehow your whole assessment seems unfair.” Zed stood and began to pace agitatedly before he turned toward his brother again.
“I know what this is about, Blaine, but you’re being completely unreasonable. Admit it. You thought this would be just another job you had to do to keep me happy but you are intrigued with her and you don’t want to give her up. Sorry, Romeo, but you don’t get everything you want and she’s mine.”
“Not if her body language is anything to go by.” Blaine smiled coldly, his crystal blue eyes icy as a Christmas day in Minnesota. “Remember, her virginity is yours to take. I would rather not deal with that messy situation. Virginal beauties hold absolutely zero fascination about them in my eyes. After you have had your fun, she’s mine.”
“Or what?”
“Or the deal still stands. If I can’t have her than neither of us will. I’ll use her in a film. It’s a shame, really, when you think about it. A beauty like hers is so rare. Are you willing to be selfish enough to put her life on the line just to keep her? Think about your response very carefully, brother dearest.”
Zed looked away and knew he’d lost before he’d said a word. There was no way he could put Vie’s life in the crossfire between a sick game he and his brother had been playing for years. Blaine wasn’t bluffing—he meant every word. He would have the young woman murdered if he couldn’t have her.
Sure, he was taking his word back and that made him a cruel Judas indeed but at least he would be able to experience Vie. It was more than she would probably ever grant him since from her body language alone she already adored Blaine.
They all did.
Blaine or Xavier.
They attracted women like flies to shit despite Blaine being bi-polar and Xavier a sociopathic asshole. He never had a chance. Even if he and Vie were more suited to one another. It wasn’t something he thought because he wanted it to be true—he could feel it in his bones.
The woman was walking, talking sex yet she didn’t even know her full potential because she was frightened and disgusted by the very act itself. He could break her in and make her a very good lover. And maybe, just maybe, learn to love her too. If that happened and she fell for him, there wasn’t a damn thing Blaine could do about it.
Resist Page 3