by Colt, Elodie
“Your future wife is over there,” I grumble.
“I was just—”
“Leave the fun to the Russians,” I interrupt him before I tell Adriana to stay in the background for the next two hours so the men can focus on the exhibition.
Nick follows me to the end of the spacious gallery room where we have a good vantage point of the show just as Janice dims the lights. A waitress comes up to us offering appetizers, but I decline.
“You haven’t eaten anything today,” Nick muses, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Yeah, it shows.” He sends me a sideways glance, no doubt noticing the circles under my eyes I tried to hide with concealer. Yes, I admit it—I used concealer. “By the way, why did you ruin your TV?”
I throw him an annoyed look. “Why the hell would you know about that?”
“The cleaning lady ranted about how she needed one hour to clean the mess in your living room.”
I just answer with a long, low sigh in hopes of shutting him up.
Devon is in the past.
“You’re not wearing the other necklace today,” Nick presses, apparently not getting the clue that he’s grating on my nerves.
“I figured the cheap thing would make the wrong impression tonight,” I say with a shrug, and then grab a champagne glass from a nearby plate, swallowing a big gulp to wash down the sour taste in my mouth.
Gathering from the ominous look Nick sends me, he knows why I took it off. Because I couldn’t stand it anymore. Because I needed to start ridding myself of the all-consuming, overpowering thoughts whirling around a certain beauty that I never caught sight of.
After the security breach at Silent Sins, they shut down the private chat between Devon and me, leading me to believe that, whatever happened behind the scenes of eNtimacy, it concerned Devon, and Devon alone. Carl wouldn’t give me any answers, so I’m groping in the dark, but considering how things blew up between Devon and me, I found no reason to dig deeper.
“Look at all these old farts,” Nick says after a moment, his gaze swaying over the crowd that has gathered in front of the Imperial Russian historian who’s presenting our items tonight. “How many of them do you think are in a happy relationship?”
I survey the men in their suits and the trophy wives draped around their elbows. One guy looks way over sixty, but the fancy beauty at his side isn’t older than twenty.
“All of them,” is my toneless reply. “They married their money, not their women.”
Nick chuckles. “Well, one thing is for sure. These Russian girls are hot as hell.”
Can’t argue with that. Each prettier than the next with hourglass figures, symmetrical features, and perfectly arched eyebrows. My heart thuds dully in my chest as I ask myself for the millionth time what face my Russian dragonfly girl was hiding in the shadows. Long lashes, kissable Angelina Jolie lips, and legs starting at her chin—that much I know.
“Keep your eyes on your betrothed,” I warn with a nod to Janice, and I’m pleased to see that Nick throws her an affectionate smile, the crowd of Russian beauties quickly forgotten.
“I do. All the time. I was just looking out for a match for you.”
I wince at the word ‘match,’ my eyes finding my feet for a moment before I manage to lift my head again.
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
To be honest, the thought already crossed my mind. Fuck Devon out of my system, so to speak. Maybe even go for a quickie in one of the restrooms like Aiko did. To hell with Silent Sins and all the secrecy. I can find myself a fuck-buddy without a dating app to tell me what pussy my cock prefers.
My gaze travels to the Russian interpreter standing next to an array of crystal figurines, her lips moving as she translates what the historian is saying while the audience listens to her over their earpieces. She’s attracting the least attention in her plain black dress underneath a cream-colored blazer, showcasing a pair of long, lean legs. Even with her flat ankle boots, she’s almost taller than all the other women in the room. Her dark brown hair compliments her milky, heart-shaped face, hanging in a simple braid around her shoulder.
No heavy make-up. No bling-bling. Yet incredibly stunning.
I pin my gaze at her, my eyes roaming over her pretty features. Her expression is stern, her look almost guarded as she steals wary glances around the room. There’s no hint of a smile as she concentrates on her work, something she seems to have no trouble doing as she translates the heavy jargon as if she’s done it her whole life. I can’t hear her voice from afar, but I can tell by the way her lips close around the consonants that the words flow from her with ease.
She shifts as the historian continues to present the next item, and my gaze drops to her ass—a tiny but taut, peach-shaped thing stretching her dress and molding into a sexy curve.
“The interpreter?” Nick smirks when he follows the center of my fascination. “A smart choice.”
Yeah. A smart choice because she doesn’t belong to any of our high-end clients, hence not posing a threat to our business.
A bad choice because I shouldn’t think of dragging another woman into my bed when I know I’d imagine her to be someone else as soon as I’m inside her.
But there’s something about her that draws me in. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. The way she moves with grace, the way she drags her lip through her teeth, the way she twists her hands… All this stirs something inside me. Tugs at my heart in a weird yet familiar way.
It’s like experiencing a déjà-vu. You’re racking your brain to find out where the familiarity comes from, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t figure it out.
The historian ends his presentation just as Janice turns on the lights once again, and the people applaud, the sudden commotion hiding the dark-haired beauty from view. Nick claps my shoulder before he struts off to lend Janice a hand, and I turn to see Susan beelining for me with a beaming smile on her face. Following Russian tradition, she wears a red Sarafan dress embroidered with gold ornaments on top of a blouse in polka dot design. Her unusual attire draws attention seeing as all the other women used the opportunity to show off their fanciest gowns, but I have to admit, I’ve seen weirder clothes on her, and in combination with her gray locks in an elegant updo, she looks almost like a Russian folk dancer.
“Did you enjoy the presentation?” I ask as she pulls me in for a hug.
“Oh, it was amazing. Absolutely amazing, Nathan.”
I flash her a smile. “I’m glad to hear it. Found any pieces to add to your collection?”
“Too many.” She huffs a laugh, flapping a hand through the air. “I’m particularly fond of that silver teapot from Fabergé. What a stunning object!”
Of course, the teapot for Susan, I think with a smirk and place a hand on the small of her back.
“Let me have a chat with Brooke later,” I say, “and I’ll see what we can do about the price.”
“Oh, that would be lovely, my dear! So, tell me…” She motions for me to lower my head. “What did your girl say about the dragonfly necklace?”
My pulse thumps in my throat as I swallow. “She was very taken by it.”
Susan’s eyebrows pull down, and she nudges her cat-eye glasses up her nose. “Why are you making such a face?”
“Uhm, she broke up with me,” I mumble for lack of a better response, and Susan’s eyes grow wide.
“What did you do?” she hisses like a mother scolding her child and punches my shoulder, leaving me baffled.
“Nothing! I swear, I didn’t do anything. She just didn’t want me to carry her baggage,” I say in a deflated tone as Susan continues to pierce me with her gaze. “Why am I even telling you this?”
Funny how I always feel the need to defend myself in front of Susan. Guess I’ve got more respect for that woman than for my own mother.
She lifts a warning finger, nearly jabbing me in the nose. “Because you know I’d rip your pretty head off if
it ever reached my ears that you treat your women badly.”
I treated her like a goddess! I want to yell, but Carl takes exactly that moment to walk up to us.
“Susan,” he greets her with a smile. “Long time no see.”
“Good evening, Carl.”
“Still living a blissful single life?” He stuffs his hand into the pocket of his pinstriped three-piece suit. “You know, I can help you out if you want. eNtimacy just launched a senior dating site.”
Susan huffs a throaty laugh, placing a hand over her heart. “Oh, I don’t need the Internet to find myself a hubby. I’ve had more men in my life than you’ve had women in your bed, my dear.”
Carl blinks in astonishment, and I hide a grin under my hand.
“I’ll leave you men to your business, then,” she announces and disappears in the crowd, leaving Carl and me standing on the sidelines.
Clasping my hands in front of me, I rock back and forth on my heels.
“I take it Devon didn’t reach out to you, yet?” he asks in a hesitant tone, and I glower at him.
“You shut down our chat, remember?”
Carl winces. “Only temporarily. Listen…” Grabbing my elbow, he pulls me farther into the corner so we can speak in private. “I couldn’t reveal anything over the phone, but this shit was serious, Nathan.”
I let my gaze glide over the crowd, searching for the Russian interpreter with the sexy legs, but she’s nowhere in sight.
“What do you mean?” I drone.
“Someone broke into eNtimacy’s headquarters to hack Devon’s file.”
My head snaps back at him. “What?”
“Yeah… He even went as far as to attack her accountant. The woman landed in the hospital.”
My jaw unhinges. “Are you serious?”
“The authorities are already on it, but they haven’t caught the asshole, yet.”
I fight the urge to rake a hand through my hair, knowing it would ruin my sleeked back hairstyle.
“Why did I not read anything about it in the newspaper?”
Carl grinds his jaw, sending me an ominous look that answers my question. They swept this one under the rug so as not to let it taint eNtimacy’s reputation.
“And how much does Devon know?”
“All of it. Her accountant told her because she feared for her safety.” He rubs his chin. “We don’t know how much information he gathered but according to the authorities, his hacking skills are incredible, so chances are he also found out that you were Devon’s date. Devon probably shut you out because she feared for your safety, too.”
“Didn’t you talk to her? Sounds to me as if this is personal. The guy probably knows who she is and found out that she signed up for Silent Sins. Maybe a relative or a scorned lover. She might know who was behind it.”
Carl shakes his head. “As I said, the case is with the authorities now. We’re not allowed to interfere.”
I shoot him a knowing glance. “You’ve got connections everywhere, Carl. Don’t tell me the Chief of the NYPD isn’t one of your closest friends.”
His expression becomes stern. “I already told you more than I’m supposed to.” He grabs my elbow, willing me to look at him. “Hey, I’m on your side here, Nathan, but this needs to stay confidential, is that clear? Not one word to anyone, especially not to Devon.”
“You have my word,” I mumble, eager to squeeze more information from him, but Brooke approaches, quickly stealing Carl’s attention.
He turns to her with a grin.
“Brooke, you’re taking my breath away tonight,” he says in a tone that makes her blush ten shades of red.
“Did you enjoy the show?” she asks, flicking her hair behind her shoulder.
“You are the show, my love,” Carl counters in an even deeper voice, and I’m glad when they decide to share a drink and continue with their sex-talk elsewhere.
My chest heaves with a sigh. I don’t need eNtimacy’s algorithm to know that Brooke is Carl’s top match. Alas, Brooke will always go for the second best match on her list—Vincent. I wish he’d stay fourteen years longer in his cell because as soon as they set him free, he’s going to break her heart again.
My eyes lock on a set of long legs, and I trail them up to see the interpreter asking Mila Jovovich for an autograph, handing her a pen and paper.
My thoughts continue to twist around Devon. Maybe Carl was right. Maybe she just wants to protect me. Maybe she just wants to wait until the storm blows over. Maybe there’s still hope for us.
I grind my jaw, my eyes still riveted on the dark-haired woman as she shakes a few hands, apparently ready to leave.
‘How come you fell in love with that girl so fast?’
I was never in love with Devon. I mean, it’s not as if I was wishing to wake up next to her every morning. Or to take her on vacation to a private island. Or to put a ring on her finger and make her mine for eternity.
Devon is simply an obsession that grew insanely fast, fueled by all the secrets and mysteries lingering in the darkness that swallowed us whenever we stepped into The Room. It was the thrill of the unknown feeding my infatuation. The need to wring the truth from her. The rush whenever I caught her in a lie.
‘We redefine DESIRE.’
That’s the slogan of Silent Sins. Only if you’ve experienced it, you know the true meaning.
And only if you’ve tasted it, you know what you’ve lost.
A waitress swings by, and I grab a champagne glass, setting it to my lips. After the interpreter is done wishing everyone a good night, the smile she plastered onto her face for the occasion drops, and she huffs, clearly relieved to leave this place. She doesn’t stop at the coat check like I thought she would and even shimmies out of her blazer as if she’s too hot to wear it any longer.
I’m telling you, life has a weird way of doing a three-sixty on you when you least expect it, which is exactly what’s happening at that moment as she flicks her braid over her shoulder.
I freeze.
Every inch of my body grows numb.
Every cell stiffens in my system.
My eyes zone in on her left forearm, one adorned with a tattoo.
A dragonfly tattoo.
The sudden weakness in my limbs renders me motionless, paralyzing me on the spot. My knees buckle, and I sway on my feet as I drag my eyes to her delicate back sporting a constellation of freckles. I hone in on them, recalling how my hands explored each of the specks sprinkled over her shoulder blades.
I know them by heart. Each. Fucking. One.
And I know that, without a single doubt, this woman is… my dragonfly girl.
The pressure building in my chest nearly crushes my lungs as I stand there rooted to the spot. There’s a gold chain around her neck, and even if I can only see her from behind, I know what kind of pendant dangles on her cleavage. Her figure becomes smaller as she heads for the doors with hurried steps, but I can’t even twitch a damn finger. Stars dot my vision, and the sudden dizziness reminds me that I’m out of oxygen.
Breathe.
I let out a wheezing breath, my brain going haywire within the blink of an eye, and before I know what I’m doing, I gun for my target.
Weaving through the crowd, I press my champagne glass into the hand of a waitress, my eyes glued to the slender figure nearing the exit. My heart races in my chest a thousand miles per hour, drowning out every noise as I chase my prey with pounding steps. The anticipation at grabbing her and losing myself in her eyes, soaking up every inch of her perfect face—a sight I’ve been denied for too long—is near blinding.
But then, chaos erupts in my head, and I halt mid-stride right there in the middle of the room, my eyes still pinned on her.
What will happen if I drop the veil? How will she respond when I walk up to her and show her who I am? Silent Sins will be over for us, and while that’s exactly what I want, it could also mean the end. Devon never agreed to meet me in private, so what if I’m making a huge mistake here
? What if she ditches me for good and walks away? As soon as I open my mouth and speak the first words, she will know who I am, so I can’t even pretend to be a stranger.
Think, Nathan, think—and do it fast!
“Bro, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
Nick’s voice is barely a background noise as I watch her strutting out the doors and turning the corner.
“Because I just saw one,” I mumble, probably looking as if I were in the middle of having a stroke.
His expression turns from befuddled to concerned. “Hey, are you okay?”
No. Nothing is okay. Because I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do!
You can’t let her leave! a voice in my head screams. You can’t watch her walk away!
“Dammit!”
Jumping into motion, I barrel through the people, beelining for the exit as if my ass were on fire. Nick yells something from behind me, but I ignore him as I dash after her, nearly bowling down the security guy as I burst out onto the street.
I whip my head left and right, scanning the snowy sidewalk. My chest heaves, panic spreading in my stomach as I frantically search for a black dress and brown hair.
There!
Her braid blowing in the wind is the last thing I see before she folds herself into the passenger seat of a blue Toyota. With a curse, I elbow a stoned dude out of my way as I hurry to catch the license plate, bumping into a parked car in the process and probably ruining my Brioni Vanquish for good. At the exact moment, a truck whizzes by, cutting off my sight before the Toyota disappears around a corner.
A whimper jounces over my lips, my blood running cold as I stare straight ahead.
I don’t know how long I stand there, letting the snowflakes melt on my skin and the wind whip my cheeks and the sludge on the ground soak my pants. I don’t know how long I stand there, freezing my ass off in the cold and asking myself for the hundredth time how the hell I could have been so damn stupid.
“Nathan!” Nick yells as he storms outside. “What the hell is going on?”
“Fuck!” I scream. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”