The heavy mahogany door to my office clicks open, cutting through the silence. I don’t need to spin around in my chair to realize who’s here.
“Well, well, well,” none other than Dante says, his words echoing through the room. “Look at this surprise. A billionaire behind his desk, drinking vodka like it’s water and looking like something the cat dragged in.” I don’t have the energy to put up a mask or to bicker back and forth with him. Dante makes his way through my office. Trailing after him are Nolan and Dom. They stop along the way, helping themselves to a drink of their own, and when Dom looks at me, it’s with a look of understanding. Fucking fuck, I really don’t need my friend to examine my head tonight.
“You look like hell, man,” Nolan says with a bluntness, crossing his arm over his chest and taking a deep pull of his beer. The three of them look from one to the other before focusing on me.
“That’s being generous,” Dom adds, pulling out one of the heavy chairs opposite of my desk and sinking into it. “The only time a man looks like that is if his account has been drained or there’s a woman involved, and I’m pretty fucking confident it’s the latter of the two.”
“If the three of you came here to give a performance review on my appearance, you can fuck all the way off. I’m not in the goddamn mood.” I shift my gaze to his and set the tumbler down on the bank of cabinets in front of me, the clack sharp against the wood.
“Clearly,” Dante says, walking over to the bar, grabbing the decanter of vodka, pouring himself a glass, and topping me off while he’s at it. He takes a sip, grimacing at the taste. He preferssomething a hell of a lot smoother than my preference of choice. “But last I heard, we’re friends, Vik. And more importantly, we’re not blind.”
“Where’s Rafe?” I tense, running a hand down my face. The stubble on my jaw scratches against my palm.
“Home,” Dom answers. A soft, brief smile breaks through his serious demeanor. “With Seraphina. You know how he is these days. The man barely leaves her side.”
“And where you should be with Cory.” A bitter pang of envy pierces through the chest. Rafe and Dom have it figured out. Both have their women where they belong, safe and happy. Meanwhile, I’m sitting in the dark, drowning in my thoughts and wondering if the best thing I’ve ever had slipped through my fingers.
“Yeah,” Dom replies.
“What’s been up with the girls lately?” I stare at my crystal glass, tracing the rim with my thumb. A million questions run through my head, and tonight seems to be the final straw, or maybe it’s the fact that the copious amounts of vodka have loosened my tongue. Dom raises an eyebrow, Nolan goes entirely still, and Dante hides the curve of his smile behind his drink. “Seriously. They haven’t been around much. Usually, this place is crawling with them, or they’re dragging you bunch out to lunch. It’s been a ghost town lately.” I pause, waiting for a response. Hoping against hope that one of them will mention Romy.
“It’s like that, is it?” Dante pipes up first, his voice dripping with sudden amusement. This is the reason I’ve kept to my fucking self.
“Dante, shut up,” Dom warns, casting a sharp look at him before returning his eyes to me. His expression softens into something resembling genuine concern. “Vik, we know whoyou’re talking about without saying her name. We haven’t seen her, either.”
“What do you mean, you haven’t seen her?” The words hit me like a physical blow. I sit up straighter, my eyes narrowing at the three of them.
“We haven’t seen her,” Nolan admits, readjusting his stance.
“The girls are being girls’ girls, or whatever it is they say, so are weirdly tight lipped. Cory won’t say a damn thing. I caught her on the phone the other day whispering, and the second I walked into the room, she hung up,” Dom says with a frown. “Rafe says Seraphina’s been the same way, constantly checking her phone. We all thought, or assumed, whatever is going on, you’d be in the loop somehow with Alex working for you, but I can see you’re completely in the dark as well.”
My grip tightens around the glass so hard, I’m surprised the crystal doesn’t shatter. Panic, cold and sharp, floods my veins, and any semblance of a buzz washes away.
“She won’t talk to me. She’s ghosted me for weeks. This conversation doesn’t fucking leave this room. You won’t have to worry about the girls going after you, I will,” I threaten with my confession, hating that I’m letting this get to me yet past the point of caring.
“How long?” Dante’s smirk vanishes, replaced with a sharp, analytical look.
“Long enough. Not getting into the particulars. We never did with Dom, and we aren’t with me. What I will tell you is, I respected her boundaries. I’m trying not to smother her, but I’m losing my goddamn mind.” They nod in understanding.
“Look, if Romy is staying to herself, there’s a reason, and the girls are helping her do so. You’re not going to get it out of them anytime soon. They protect each other. Fiercely.” Dom stands up, pacing the length of the office before turning back to face me.
“Don’t I fucking know it,” I mutter, staring at the phone on my desk.
I want to demand answers.
I want to go to her apartment, break down the door, and see her with my own two eyes.
I just want her.
Except I know that pushing Romy too hard, acting like the ruthless businessman in the boardroom, wouldn’t work on her. It wouldn’t even scare her away. She’d go toe to toe with me and probably kick me in the balls to even the score. I look at the empty glass in my hand. That’s three now, and there’s no way I’m stopping anytime soon.
“Find out what they know,” I say, gesturing for Dante to pour me another. “I don’t care what you have to do. I need to know she’s okay. In the meantime, I’m getting hammered. If one of you don’t mind calling my driver in an hour or so, I’d be much obliged.”
“We’ll see what we can dig up, Vik. Hang in there.” Dom nods slowly.
“I’ve still got a few things to wrap up in the office. If you want to head out, I’ll call Sheffield when he’s ready to leave,” Nolan tells the room.
“I’m done. Got nothing better to do. Go do your thing. I’ll pour him more vodka, then pour him into the car. I draw the line at carrying your drunk ass to bed, though.” Dante pours another heavy splash of vodka, and I immediately lift it to my lips, knocking it back with the intention of drowning out my thoughts, of wondering where Romy is and what she’s doing.
