Dante & Vivian
DANTE
I didn’t need to visit D.C.
I could’ve conducted my business there virtually, but I welcomed the break from the strained atmosphere at home. I also took the opportunity to check in on Christian, whom I’d tasked with a new project on top of the Francis situation.
He lounged on the couch opposite me, his eyes cool. We were in the library of his downtown penthouse, and we’d spent the past hour discussing Valhalla, business, and security. But judging by his expression, he was still pissed about what happened in the lobby earlier.
I’d merely kissed the hand of one of his neighbors—one whom he seemed to have a special interest in.
It wasn’t every day I saw Christian Harper agonize over a woman, and I’d be damned if I let it slide without fucking with him.
He’d get over it. They weren’t even dating.
“Heath Arnett. CEO of a cloud storage startup that’s going public at the end of this year,” he said now. He lifted an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about cloud storage?”
The mention of Heath’s name wiped away my amusement at Christian’s response to a simple hand kiss.
I thought about you at midnight. Love, Heath.
Something dark and unwanted snaked through my chest.
“Don’t play dumb.” I tossed back the rest of my drink and set the crystal tumbler on a nearby side table. “Did you find anything good?”
I’d asked Christian to look into Heath’s background. It’d taken him no time to figure out Heath’s full name, as well as everything about the man’s work, family, and hobbies.
Standard middle-class American upbringing. Undergrad at Columbia, where Heath met Vivian. A rising career as a software developer before he founded a startup that was currently going gangbusters.
But that was the shiny, top-level stuff. I wanted the seedy underbelly.
Christian smiled. Few things animated him more than ripping the skeletons out of someone’s closet. “There’s a chance he may have been involved in questionable activities leading to the growth of his company. Not criminal, but questionable. Enough it could severely impact the performance of their IPO.”
“Good. Take care of it before they go public.”
I reached for the water next to my empty scotch, but it did nothing to soothe the burn in my blood.
“Of course.” Christian watched me, an amused gleam creeping into his amber eyes. “You never answered my earlier question. Why do you care so much about this Heath? It can’t possibly be because he’s Vivian’s ex-boyfriend. The man she was madly in love with until her parents made her break up with him because he didn’t come from Russo-level money.” Christian swirled his drink in his glass. “Heard he sent her roses after New Year’s. Nice ones.”
The burn intensified.
“He knows Vivian is my fiancée, and he sent her flowers anyway. It’s disrespectful.”
I hadn’t told Christian about the Valhalla Club, Bali, or any of the changes in my relationship with Vivian. Handing him that information would be like handing dynamite to a destruction-minded toddler.
Unfortunately, the bastard possessed an eerily accurate radar when it came to other people’s weaknesses.
Not that Vivian was my weakness.
“Hmm.” A knowing smile played on Christian’s mouth. “That’s one reason. Another reason, one I’m more inclined to believe, is that you’re starting to develop feelings for your lovely future wife.”
“Lay off the whiskey, Harper. It’s clouding your judgment,” I said coldly. “Vivian is more tolerable than I originally anticipated, but nothing’s changed. I have no intention of marrying her or tying myself to the Laus.”
For some reason, the sentiment tasted less sweet than it had six months ago. Bitterness edged the words like they’d been tainted by deceit, though I’d meant what I said.
I was attracted to Vivian. I’d accepted that much about myself. I even liked her, but not enough to take her father’s blackmail lying down.
It didn’t matter, anyway. Once I demolished her father’s empire, she wouldn’t want anything to do with me. She was too loyal to her family. Such was the cost of business.
The back of my neck itched.
I pushed my sleeves up, wishing it weren’t so damn hot in here. Christian must have his heater on full blast.
“If you say so,” he drawled. “Don’t worry, we’re close. Soon, you’ll be rid of their entire family, and you can have your house to yourself again.”
An odd ache gripped my chest.
“Looking forward to it,” I said curtly. I poured myself another glass of Glenlivet, but an incoming call interrupted before I could take a sip.
Edward.
He never called unless there was an emergency. Did something happen to Vivian?
Ice crept through my veins.
I quickly excused myself and stepped into the hall.
“What is it?” I demanded once Christian was out of earshot. “Is Vivian okay?”