“Is there a reason why you’re still here beside me? I’m sure there’s some young man catching your attention somewhere?”
“Remember, Dominic… you need me more than I need you.”
With her callous words, she storms off.
Still gazing at Kate on the dance floor with the fucker’s hands all over her, I ask the bartender for another round as my brother, Eric, pulls up next to me. “Hit me with our hardest.”
Amused, I slide a drink over. “It’s your wedding day, shouldn’t you be sober or something?”
“Are you kidding me? All our relatives from China attending a gay wedding? What part of relaxing does that sound?”
“Noted, though Mom seems to be handling her side with grace.”
“Yes, poor woman.”
“Mom loves you and has thick skin. Just enjoy your day.”
“And how are you doing?” Eric softens his tone, his eyes settling on Kate. “I’m sorry, this has to be hard.”
“It is what it is,” is all I say.
Eric’s attention is shifted to his husband, my new brother-in-law. “Jesus Christ, I think we’re about to start the hora.”
“But we aren’t Jewish?”
“Exactly!” Eric throws back another drink. “I’ll see you later.”
Eric’s leaves me to drink away my sorrows. The more scotch I drink, the more it all becomes evident. I’m a fucking idiot. I lost the best thing to happen to me because I was a pussy. I should’ve seized the day when Kate begged me to be exclusive. And look at me now, I’m nothing short of pathetic for obsessing over a woman who’s happily dancing in someone else’s arms. My behavior over the past year is shameful. I’d almost followed Kate’s every move, watching her from afar like a deranged stalker.
“Excuse me, sir? What type of champagne are you serving?”
A young woman stands next to me, resting her elbows on the bar. She waits patiently for the bartender, who has no fucking clue what he’s doing. With a flirty smile, he mumbles something which doesn’t seem to please her.
The French accent rolling off her tongue is sexy as is the white dress she’s wearing with a deep neckline that sits perfectly covering her perky breasts. With only her side profile visible, her long honey-brown curls sit just above her waist.
“Je suppose que le champagne n’est pas à ton gout?” I mention, hiding a smirk behind my glass.
The young woman turns to face me, amused by my French, biting her lip as if she’s trying to hold something back. Unknowingly, my eyes are drawn to her bite, the way her pink lips appear so innocent and untouched.
“Perhaps you’re right. The champagne isn’t to my taste,” she admits while drinking the entire glass with a slightly nervous glance. “L’Amérique est très différente.”
“America is different,” I agree, with a nod. “Paris is beautiful. I have only fond memories.”
“Oui, Paris is beautiful.” She sighs, though quickly catches herself and straightens her posture.
“You miss it, I can tell.”
“I do. It’s lonely here. I have friends, but it isn’t my home.”
Her innocence is becoming, and with my mind ticking the same way it had done with Kate many years ago, I begged myself not to do it.
You see, I have a gift of discovering people’s weaknesses and making their fantasies come alive. It’s made me rich, despite my ties to Allegra.
But something warns me against it. I don’t have time to invest in opening up a world to someone else, not when the woman I love is standing a few feet away begging me to steal her away from a life she fell into because I pushed her.
As for this young French woman, I’ll let her go. She needs to consider herself lucky. I know a good business opportunity when I see one, but something odd triggers inside my warped mind. She’d be eaten alive inside my club.
She would be devoured by every greedy man for her innocence.
I don’t know why I feel compelled to protect her from the enemy. She’s a total stranger. I didn’t even catch her name.
“I’m sorry, how rude of me not to ask your name?”
“Emile.” She clears her throat, extending her hand. “Emile Cadieux.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell her with a polite smile. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
With an odd gaze, she presses her lips together as her chest heaves. Her cheeks turn crimson, the shade creeping across her face as I stare oddly, almost mesmerized.
“And you, Dominic,” she simply responds.
I tilt my head with a smirk before I walk off toward the gardens, desperate for solitude. The closer I edge toward the darkness and away from the party, I’m caught mid-step by a realization.
I never said my name. How on earth does she know, then?”
Swiftly, I turn around, my eyes reverting to the bar. She’s gone, only a few guests loitering while waiting to be served. Everyone else is mingling on the dance floor.
I have to forget about this strange encounter. After all, she isn’t why I’m here.
It’s finally time to win back what’s mine.
And nothing, or no one, will stop me.
Chapter Three
Emile
My chest rises and falls, the air barely attainable as I retreat to the bathroom to gather myself.
The door is locked, and the outside noise is drowning in the large thumps from my racing heart.
Just breathe.
Moving toward the sink, my eyes lift to gaze at my reflection in the mirror. My skin is flushed, a shade of pink, which often overcomes me when I find myself in various situations. It has always embarrassed me, which only adds to my skin reacting, and usually, in front of other people.
Turning the tap on, I wet my hand with cold water and splash some onto the back of my neck. Slowly, I begin to breathe normally, my skin returns to my normal color, and those runaway thoughts begin to clear.
I lost my cool, almost gave myself up when I was supposed to be protecting my boss.
Why, but why did I do that?
I replay the encounter in my head. I’ve
