I’m sitting with Knox in my office.

We’ve been going over the new equity contracts for the last hour. Though I keep my focus on the documents in front of me, I’m aware of Knox’s occasional assessing stares.

I haven’t spoken to him—or any of my other brothers—since my meeting with our father the other day. I was so angry I couldn’t talk about it. The only thing I managed to do was start gathering a list of potential women who might suit the part of being my wife.

Without me asking, Levi took it upon himself to do the same, and he’s been bringing me résumés.

So far, no one has caught my interest. I don’t know if that’s because my heart’s not in it or because the women genuinely don’t interest me.

I pick up another file from the stack, and Knox frowns, snatching it out of my hands.

I glare at him with raised brows and cock my head. “What? What’s with you?”

He narrows his eyes and looks at me as if I just spoke another language. “Seriously? What’s with me? Dorian, it’s been two days since you spoke to Dad. You’ve just been working to keep busy.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

He flicks his palms over. “Let’s talk.”

“No.” I dismiss the idea with the wave of a hand.

“Why not? If this were me, you’d insist on talking it out and trying to come up with a solution.”

I flash him a crude smile. “What solution, Knox? Dad already made his demands, and now I have fucking Parker to worry about. So, no thanks, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, at least tell me what you’re planning. It’s Wednesday. The clock’s ticking. You now have two and a half weeks to find a wife.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Have you picked a potential candidate yet?”

“Of course not. I’ll brainstorm over the weekend and come up with a plan.”

“Obviously, I don’t agree with Dad, but…” He pauses for a beat, and his face brightens. “With regards to the marriage, it may not be all bad.”

“Oh God, no.” I shake my head with distaste. “Don’t do that.” I tap on the table with my index finger.

“Don’t do what? Give you advice? I’m your brother. Of course, I’m going to give you advice.”

“I don’t want that kind of advice, Knox. You think just because you got married and it worked out great, it’s the same for everyone?”

“I don’t believe that. I’m just saying it’s not all bad. Look what happened to me.”

He nods like he’s suddenly become some marriage guru and imparting some great wisdom that will change my life.

Knox’s wife, Isla, is the daughter of the man who tried to ruin him. Last year, he set out to recoup his losses by taking her inheritance through a marriage clause in the trust her father left her. It was a ruthless plan. Until he fell for her.

The thing was, I knew he was interested from day one. Now they’re annoyingly in love with a baby on the way. I’m happy for him, but his story isn’t mine.

“We didn’t exactly have the best examples of marriage growing up,” he continues. “I felt it was important I say that it doesn’t have to be the same for you.”

He’s not wrong to be concerned that I’ve been influenced by the bad examples we’ve had. Or more specifically, the one and only—our parents.

Dad wasn’t to blame for that. It was our abusive mother. Knox got the worst of her wrath. He even took punishments for us so she wouldn’t hurt us. What I’ll never tell him is that I took punishments, too. And because I never showed weakness or pain, that woman who gave birth to us took me to the darkest side of the dark.

My parents got divorced when I was eleven. Our mother put us through so much my father sent us to live with our grandparents in England for a few years.

When we returned to the States, my father had married Louise and they had a two-year-old.

“If you pick the right person, it doesn’t have to be bad,” Knox says, pulling me back to the present. His words tell me he knew exactly what I was thinking. “And not all women are like Catherine.”

Ahh. Catherine—my cheating ex. I was wondering when someone would drop her name.

It feels like a lifetime since I was with her, but her name still carries weight. I suppose it’s expected. She was my first girlfriend, the one I was with the longest, and the last woman I gave the girlfriend label. After I caught her in bed with Jack, balls deep inside her, I decided being exclusive wasn’t worth it. Definitely not if a woman could earn your trust and stab you in the back the way Catherine did.

Then she blamed me. She said I didn’t love her. The callous thing about her accusation was… she was right.

She was perhaps the first to see that part of me is missing.

I can’t love.

And I’m okay with that.

“Let’s drop this.” I give Knox a sharp stare, the sting of those memories grating on my nerves.

“Can’t you just hear me out?”

“Listen.” I lean forward and plant my hands on the desk. “I’m not in this to find some freaking soulmate. There is no right person for me. Whoever I choose to marry will know right from the start what to expect from me—which is nothing. They’ll get a nice cushy lifestyle where they won’t want for anything. We’ll pop out a child and look like a family for the media’s sake. But we’ll live separate lives. That’s what I’m doing.”

He sighs, raising his hands in surrender. “Fine. Do that.”

I dip my head. “I will do that. Right now, there are bigger things to worry about. The investigation team hasn’t found shit, and come Monday, I’ll have cousin Parker grating on my ass.”

Knox winces. “What are you going to do about him? You guys will be working together.”

“Oh no, we won’t. If that fucker knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay the hell away from me.”

“I think it’s out of order that Dad brought him on board.”

“It’s a scare tactic for me, and it worked.”

Parker is our aunt Jennifer’s son. She’s my father’s younger sister. They live in England and take care of the Vale Global branch there. Parker has the same job as me, so he’d easily fall into my role if I failed.

He’d also be all too happy to step into my shoes because my father is giving him an opportunity his side of the family would otherwise never have.

The line of inheritance and positions at the company lies with my father and his sons. My aunt’s children would only ever take over if something terrible happened to us. Or if like now, my father changed the rules—which he can do if he deems one of us unfit. So, that’s what he thinks of me. That I’m unfit.

It’s more a slap in the face that my father summoned my cousin, of all the people, because he knows we don’t get along. We’re the same age, have near enough the same interests, but we clash in personality.

Knox reaches across the table and taps my shoulder. “Stay focused, man. I’m sure whatever plan you come up with will work. Then I’ll happily send Parker on his merry way back to London. I have no need for his pompous ass here.”

“Thanks.”

“No worries.”

A knock sounds at the door. I lift my head. “Come in.”

The door swings open, and Levi struts in, a bright smile on his face. “Wait until you see the women I found you.” He holds up the blue folder in his hand.

“God, Levi not now.” I frown, giving him a thin stare.

“Come on. Don’t be so lame.” He waves me off and saunters over, flapping the file back and forth. “When am I ever going to get to do this again?”

“I never asked you to do it in the first place.”

“It’s my brotherly duty.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” I glare at him.

“Locke has it all covered. This is important. You need a specific type of woman.”

Knox chuckles. “He’s right. And what’s the harm? Besides, it’s more appropriate for him to help you with this than me.”

Because Knox is so obsessed with his wife, no other woman exists in his world but her. I roll my eyes, showing my disdain.

Levi lays the file out before me and takes out five report-style pages with headshots of young women who I know will be New York’s finest.

He moves his hand over the files like he’s showcasing multimillion-dollar diamonds. “These are my top five. These women will make your abrasive-as-fuck ass look like Saint Dorian of Manhattan. Think the Dalai Lama’s long-lost protégé.”

Knox bursts out laughing while I seethe.

“Levi, I swear to God, one of these days, you’re going to test the wrong nerve. If you ever compare me to a saint again, I’ll throw you out that window.”

Levi grins, completely unfazed. “See? That devilish attitude right there is exactly why you need a good woman.”

Knox leans back, arms crossed. “If he murders you, I’m not cleaning it up.”

“I’ll be fine.” Levi smirks. “Now, let me introduce you to my girls.”

Levi fans the pages out like playing cards and slides the first profile toward me.

Staring back is a brunette with sharp cheekbones and a résumé full of charity boards and Ivy League degrees.

“Meet Amy. She’s charity obsessed and a trust-fund angel,” Levi announces. “Perfect for photo ops and Christmas cards.”

I give the picture a cursory glance. Given that Montgomery was so heavily into his charity work, picking a woman who does the same thing would feel like a mockery and make me look worse. “Next.”

Levi smirks and reaches for the second. A woman with jet-black hair and a smile so practiced it could be trademarked.

“This is Francine. Media darling, very religious and runs a foundation for… something.” He squints at the header. “Sea turtles?”

“Thrilling,” I deadpan.

Knox huffs a laugh under his breath.

The third and fourth follow just as quickly—perfect women on paper, polished within an inch of their lives. All wrong. All forgettable. Then Levi slides the fifth page across the desk, and everything slows.

She’s a blonde with a soft mouth, green eyes that hit like a punch to the gut.

Not the same shade as the girl I’m thinking about, not the same shape, either, but close enough that something under my ribs goes taut.

The air shifts. My jaw clenches before I can stop it.

Levi is still talking, saying something about her being “wife material with a capital W”, but his voice fades under the static roaring in my ears.

Because I stare at the picture before me, and I can’t help but see her.

Elodie Harper.

Knox notices my pause. “You like that one?”

I look away and straighten before either of them can read too much into it. “No,” I say too quickly, too flat. “She just looks familiar.”

Levi smirks. “Familiar good or familiar trouble?”

My cold glare answers for me.

He raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Moving on.”

He grabs another batch of headshots from his file and repeats the same process, but I don’t move on. Not internally.

Not when a stranger’s photo just dragged Elodie’s ghost right back into my head.

I think of her in that coffeehouse, and for the millionth time, I wonder what happened to her.

She’s what now?

Twenty-five?

When her family lost their business, she would have just left high school. And would have still been the dreamer.

She wanted to be an English teacher. For as long as I can remember, she was obsessed with the classics and poetry.

The door swings open without warning, yanking me out of my thoughts.

I’m stunned to my core when Parker Vale strolls in as if the place belongs to him—no knock, no courtesy, just that polished, aristocratic swagger he must have learned at whatever pretentious London boarding school spat him out.

His cold blue eyes sweep the office, taking inventory of a world he’s desperate to step into. Then his gaze lands on me.

“Nice office, cousin,” he drawls in a rich English accent, looking at me like he isn’t standing in my doorway uninvited.

My brothers and I fall silent, the brief lighthearted mood we had between us gone in an instant.

Irritation scrapes down my spine at the sight of my cousin. I pin him with a flat stare, forcing my jaw to unclench.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I lift my chin higher.

Parker smiles and slides his hands into his pockets. “Is that any way to greet me? We haven’t seen each other in years. Now here we are, all together, with me about to take your job.”

Knox stands and glares at him, ready for war. “Watch your mouth, cousin. Let’s not forget whose ass you’ll have to lick when my father goes.”

Parker holds up his hands. “Just teasing, Knox. I can see you haven’t changed one bit. Can’t take a joke.”

“Man, why don’t you just fuck the hell off,” Levi jumps in.

Parker switches his gaze to him and looks him up and down as if he’s insignificant. “Which one are you again? Locke, the airhead? Or Levi, the glorified manwhore who can’t control his dick? If you’re the latter, aren’t you the one with the druggie friend?”

Levi’s about to rush him, but Knox holds him back. I almost wish he didn’t. Mentioning Levi’s friend who nearly died a few times and worked so hard to get clean was way below the belt.

“Come over here and say that to my face,” Levi barks.

“Okay, so you are Levi, then.”

Levi’s about to answer him, but I stand and hold my hand up.

Walking with the slow grace of a jungle cat, I make my way over to Parker and stop a breath away. He knows not to fuck with me, so I don’t know why he’s doing it.

“Do yourself a favor, Parker.” I reach out and adjust the collar of his jacket. “Get the hell out of my office and don’t ever come back in here.”

He responds with a Cheshire Cat grin and cocks his head. “Hard not to come back in here when this office space could technically be mine in a few months.”

I give him the same fucked-up smile. “I wonder where you got that intel from. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s what you think. If you fail⁠—”

“I won’t fail.”

“You can’t fix your image, Dorian. Me, however, I’m the son your father wishes he had. Not like you guys. The Monster who nearly made the company go under in the wire fraud scandal,” He casts a glance at Knox, then at Levi. “The playboy who associates with drug addicts and prostitutes.” He looks back at me next. “And the villain. The guy who⁠—”

I don’t let him finish. I grab his tie and pull hard. Within seconds, Parker’s coughing and gasping for air.

Motherfucker.

His first mistake was to step into my lair. His next was to let me get close enough to touch him. He should have known his game was over the moment my fingers brushed over his shirt.

Knox and Levi are on me in an instant, trying to pry my hands loose from Parker’s tie, but I pull even harder.

“Dorian, stop!” Knox shouts, but I don’t listen.

“He wanted the villain? Here I am.” I bark in Parker’s face.

His smugness is gone now. His face is red, his eyes watering, his hands clawing at my wrist for dear life.

“What the hell is going on in here?” My father’s voice cracks through the room like a gunshot. And it’s the only thing to break through the wall of rage consuming me.

Knox swears under his breath. Levi straightens, guilt slicing across his features. Parker wheezes, fingers scrambling at his tie.

Dad takes in the scene in one sweeping glance, and his eyes lock on my hands at Parker’s neck. I note the moment he realizes I’m seconds away from strangling my cousin to death.

Dad’s eyes bulge, and he throws up his hands. “Oh my fucking God, Dorian.”

I hold on to Parker for one more heartbeat before I release him, allowing him to drop to the ground. He doubles over in a fit of coughs and wheezes.

Dad shakes his head. “Dorian. My office. Now.”

The coffeehouse is almost empty when I finally look up from my laptop.

I’ve been here for a few hours. Now it’s late. The kind of late where the chatter is gone and only the hum of the fridges and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine fill the silence.

My cup of coffee sits untouched, long gone cold, the surface as dark as the night sky outside.

I don’t often come here more than once a week. Sometimes not even that. But I needed to get neutral ground to finish up my work. Somewhere that doesn’t smell like my father’s disappointment or Parker’s cologne.

I’m a workaholic at best. Most nights see me burning the midnight oil at Vale Global. But I couldn’t stand being in that building for another second.

My father’s words still ring in my ears. He chewed out my ass and ripped me a new one. Then he had the audacity to tell me I should be grateful Parker isn’t pressing charges for assault.

“Do you have any idea what that would do to us right now? To you?” He’d added with that look of intense displeasure.

I don’t regret putting my hands on Parker. I regret that the door was open.

I regret giving my father more ammunition for his you’re unstable narrative. And I regret the victorious look Parker gave me when he straightened his tie, like he’d just watched me prove every accusation right without lifting a finger.

One outburst, and I’m the problem.

Not the cousin who came into my office promising to take my job.

Not the leak sabotaging our company from the inside.

Me.

I run a hand down my face and refocus on the spreadsheet glowing back at me. Numbers and deals. The things that make sense when nothing else does.

But my mind keeps drifting.

Drifting to all the reminders that I’m one headline away from being finished.

Movement tugs at the edge of my vision, then a flash of sandy-blonde hair.

I look up, and my gaze lands on the beautiful young woman who used to be off-limits to me walking up the stairs.

She’s coming up from the lower level, a dust cloth in hand. She wipes the banister as she climbs, her head bowed and hair slipping forward to hide her face. Then she turns to reach for the next section, and her profile tips toward me.

Green eyes.

A dust of freckles on her nose.

Those curving lips I remember far too well.

For a second, the room tilts.

Elodie Harper.

Again.

The ghost who keeps wandering into my sphere.

Exhaustion tightens her shoulders, and she has a lean, gaunt look that makes her uniform hang loose around the middle. It doesn’t distract from her beauty, but it’s noticeable. So is the lost look in her eyes.

She doesn’t notice me yet. Good. Because I’m staring, and I can’t look away.

Has she been here the whole time?

She looks like she’s been here all day. Maybe she has.

Maybe she was working out back and has only come onto the floor now.

Of course, I thought about her when I came in here, but as it’s so late, I never expected to see her. With the exception of the supervisor, who seems to always be here, none of the morning staff usually work the evening shift.

Yet here Elodie is, looking like she might fall over. She’s clearly going through something. She carries the desolate look of a desperate soul.

I should pack up my things and head home. I should avoid her like I used to, way back when I noticed her watching me more than she usually did.

Back when she christened me Dorian Gray.

She never called me that because of my looks.

Elodie Harper was the first person to see the darkness inside me, and she never thought to run away.

Instead, she looked at me like I could be saved.

Those eyes find mine now. She freezes when she realizes who she’s looking at.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I decide I’m staying.

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