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“Come on, the party is upstairs. It’s not every day you’re getting married.”
Kieran sighs, dragging a hand down his face.
“You look tense.”
“Having no choice can do that.”
Kieran growls, and Cameron ignores him.
That could be said by me as well.
We follow Cameron upstairs, and Kieran and I exchange an annoyed glance. Cameron, he fucking lives for these parties. Understandable, since he can’t afford a public slipup, or his political persona would suffer the consequences. We have an entire floor offering entertainment, without our clients being afraid of anyone finding out about it. Gambling, sex, drugs included. Nothing is taboo, but everything is consensual.
From the corner of the room, I watch Cameron talking with a senator, while two women caress their thighs. Kieran looks a second away from snapping and killing someone as he chats with two clients. Aurora must be the reason for his strained nerves.
Bored out of my mind, not even my cock jerks at the scantily-dressed women. It’s been a year of not being interested in another woman. Because it’s only one woman I want, one woman flowing through my veins like poison. She has reduced me to being an obsessed idiot, living the scenarios in my head of how it will be once she’s mine.
I take the elevator one floor below, retiring to my office. I open a cabinet, grab a bottle of whiskey, and take it with me. Reclining in my ergonomic chair, I place my feet on the desk, gulping from the bottle.
Kieran steps inside, heading straight for the bar cabinet. This is the first time I haven’t at least pretended to join the party.
He grabs another bottle. “If I stayed down there any longer, I might have killed Cameron.”
“How is the lamb?”
“Stop calling her that.” Defensive. I recognize the signs. After all, I’ve lived through denial as well until I couldn’t and did something about it.
“Still hates you?”
“What about your fiancée? Is she eager to make good on her promise?” Ah, yes, her promise of killing me.
“I can’t wait for her to try.”
He chuckles. “These parties are getting old.”
“We do them more for Cameron. And marriage also means I’m staying loyal.”
“You’ve been loyal all this time.” He pins me with a knowing look, taking a swig of whiskey.
He states facts.
We choose to obey this rule of being loyal once we marry, like fundamentalists.
“Why have you? We are loyal to each other, to our cause, or did Chiara prove to you she deserves your loyalty?” he asks, brow furrowed.
“Most of the time, I wonder what she wants more, her freedom or my attention.”
“We will marry women who want nothing to do with us, and that is perhaps the dumbest shit we will ever do.”
We clink our bottles. “Sacrifices have to be made in the name of ruling.”
“Aww, you’re having a moment.” Cameron wipes an imaginary tear from his eye. The insensitive bastard steps inside, and both Kieran and I throw our bottles at him. He ducks, unimpressed. Nothing rattles him.
“You’re just jealous I am the best-looking one,” he says with a shit-eating grin.
“Why are we friends with him?” I jerk my chin to Kieran.
Cameron waves me off. “Because without me, you would still be your fathers’ little bitches.”
