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“They won’t let her inside without an invitation. Not to mention she’s banned.”
“She got an in. Your girl is resourceful.”
An odd sense of pride washes over me at him praising her, surviving no matter what…I value her strong character and how she finds ways despite having no wealth or power. However, anger overshadows anything else, and I clench my phone tighter, already thinking about how to find the fucking name that would get her in the club and stop it.
Church Killer aside, I won’t handle her proximity in a place built for sin and gore, where all inhibitions disappear and only lustful cravings remain.
“Oh, and, Octavius?” Callum exhales more smoke while laughing a little bit. “She knows about your yearly sexual encounters and thinks that’s what you’ll be doing tonight. Just thought I’d let you know.” He hangs up before I can utter another word while I close my eyes, cracking my neck from side to side and calming the inner monster awakening inside me just imagining what that information has done to her.
How did she find out?
And why did she assume I would fuck anyone tonight?
Compared to my best friends, who indulge in their sexual desires whenever the mood strikes them, it never held much interest to me because, from an early age, I’ve learned women value beauty no matter what they claim.
The disgusting stares, the winces, and sheer fear convinced me that approaching them for anything means their distress. However, I still had women willing to sleep with me due to my status, name, and friends they loved to ogle and dream about.
I have no interest in sex if the woman hates me or despises my touch.
I found the perfect solution—I hire expensive escorts once a year who keep their mouths shut and are paid generously for enduring my hideousness. Honest exchange.
I don’t date or let anyone hang on my arms, no romantic dinners or wooing either. Even during sex, it’s always from behind and never more than to sustain some of my needs.
Tenderness and gentleness do not exist for me, making Isla more tempting and dangerous to my sanity. I want to splay her on my satin sheets, bandaging her hands and indulging in her body, exploring it with my tongue and hands until she writhes from the same burning passion that rules inside me.
She has no idea how deep my obsession runs. I haven’t touched anyone since my eyes landed on her, and even planning such a thing seems outrageous to me. I hold myself to the same standards I hold anyone else, and since I won’t allow men to touch Isla…it means we are subjected to the same dry spell for a lifetime.
I know it’s a lie, though.
Because every time she searches for me, she tempts me, and temptation is hard to resist for a man like me… She almost makes me believe she wants me, and I can’t have it.
I’ve taken an oath.
An oath that saved me once upon a time.
And I intend to keep it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“She’s a beauty to my beast.
A light to my darkness.
And unfortunately…
A cure to my curse.”
Octavius
From Isla’s mother's diaries…
After the disastrous meeting in the park, I told John everything, and he was shocked to hear about the girl living in our city and raising her son. He wanted to find the girl, so he called Grayson.
I was against it because it endangered Isla, but they assured me it was better to keep the enemy, so to speak, close rather than away. All my explanations that she was a victim, if nothing else, fell on deaf ears.
However, the girl seemed to be impossible to find. She disappeared into thin air, and I probably should have questioned how they knew her name, but I didn’t.
Grayson has this ability to find anyone with his police connections, and he must have researched the teenagers giving birth around the time she went into labor.
