by Alexis Davie
“Please, call me Arlo. We are way past these formalities, I believe.”
“Very well, Arlo.”
“It is not what you can do for me, Becca, but what I want to do for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I host a ball for a select group of people every year. It is a very grand and formal affair. This year, I have decided that I will make it a charity ball, and I wish to make your non-profit organization the beneficiary of all the donations,” Arlo explained.
Becca’s jaw dropped, and she almost couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Arlo Veskovic’s annual galas and formal events were well known throughout the country, and Becca had secretly dreamed of attending one of them, but never in a million years did she ever think that Arlo Veskovic would host a charity event for her. Well, it was not for her, but for her non-profit organization. She was stunned, even though she knew she had to say something.
“That is very generous, Arlo,” she managed to say.
“It is for a worthy cause, and your organization has changed many lives. With the donations, I believe you can do even more good.”
“Absolutely. We’ve been wanting to open a safe home environment for the children, and—”
“You can do with the donations as you feel fit, Becca. No explanation is needed,” Arlo interjected before she could tell him any more. “I am certain my guests would love to hear about it at the event.”
“Very well, Arlo. I suppose you want to meet to discuss things in detail,” Becca suggested.
“I have arranged with my son to meet with you tomorrow at ten, if that suits you, of course.”
“Your son?”
“Yes. He is in charge of the planning of the entire event, as well as discussing the arrangements with you.”
Becca sighed a breath of relief. “Tomorrow at ten is perfect.”
“Wonderful. Speak soon, my dear.” Before Becca was able to respond in any way, Arlo ended the call, and she simply listened to the disconnect tone.
Perfectly on cue, Becca’s office door opened, and Lucinda appeared in the doorway with a beaming smile.
“You weren’t listening to my conversation, were you?” Becca asked, scribbling her appointment with Arlo’s son in her planner.
“Of course not,” Lucinda answered. “Like I would do that.”
Becca gave her a half smirk. “He wants me to meet with his son tomorrow at ten.”
“Why?”
“Veskovic hosts an annual ball for a select group of people. Exuberantly rich and powerful people.”
“I know. I think the whole world knows about it. What does it have to do with you?” Lucinda asked and pulled up a chair.
Becca took a deep breath to compose herself, still not quite over the fact the conversation she’d just had.
“You’re looking a little pale there, Becca,” Lucinda said, and the worry returned to her brown eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Veskovic wants to donate all the proceeds of his charity ball to us,” she struggled to say.
“What?” Lucinda gasped. “Are you serious?”
“I am,” Becca replied. “That’s why I am meeting with his son tomorrow. He’s apparently in charge of all the planning and all that.”
Lucinda stood from her chair and smiled. “Becca, this is amazing. Do you even comprehend what kind of money is raised at events like that? We’re talking millions, if not billions of dollars. Do you know what we could do with all that money?”
“We can finally open that retreat in the mountains,” Becca said, her eyes swirling with excitement.
“Exactly,” Lucinda said with a satisfied smile. “Did he say which son?”
“No, is there more than one?”
“Becca, where have you been living, under a rock?”
“No,” she defended.
“Don’t you watch the news?”
“I don’t stick around for the tabloid pieces. You know I’m not into sensationalism.”
“They’re not in the tabloids. Well, technically just the one, but everyone knows them,” Lucinda pointed out, pulling out her phone.
“Why? Because they’re the sons of a billionaire?”
Lucinda gaped at Becca with an exasperated expression. “Becca, Arlo Veskovic is the Dragon King.”
Becca’s eyes widened, and she gasped. “What?”
Lucinda leaned forward in her chair and lowered her voice. “You’re a dragon yourself, Becca. Didn’t you know that?”
Becca bit her bottom lip briefly and took a deep breath. “I guess I didn’t think that he’d look so...”
“Amazing.”
“Normal,” she interjected. “I thought that the Dragon King would be more stringent and show more authority.”
“Maybe he’s just nicer to you because you’re a dragon, too.”
Becca’s eyes flashed, and she sat back in her chair. “You don’t think that is why he is being so generous, do you? Because I’m a dragon, too?”
“Becca,” Lucinda chuckled, “I was joking. He probably doesn’t even know what you are.”
“Are you sure?”
“It doesn’t really matter if he knows or not. What matters is that he is willing to donate all the proceeds from his charity event to your organization,” Lucinda answered. “That’s a pretty big deal.”
“It is, yeah,” Becca said with a nod.
There was a moment of silence while Lucinda stared down at her phone, searching for something. Becca studied her curiously, but she didn’t say a word.
“Here.” Lucinda handed Becca her phone.
There was a photograph of Veskovic standing beside a beautiful woman, whom Becca assumed was his wife, and four younger men. Her eyebrows shot up as she examined them individually and diverted her eyes back to Lucinda.
“Is that his wife?” Becca avoided the fact that the four Dragon Princes were incredibly attractive.
“Yes, she’s gorgeous, right? It almost seems wrong for her to be married to someone like him. The princes are hot, aren’t they?”
“They’re okay,” Becca shrugged and handed Lucinda’s phone back. “How do you know so much about them?”
“This may come as a surprise to you, Becca, but I enjoy reading about history and what the world was like thousands of years ago.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Becca said and chuckled.
Luckily, the rest of the day went smoothly, without any accidents or bad luck, much to Becca’s relief.
When she locked the offices, it was already after six, and everyone had already gone home. The skies were dark, and the icy breeze made Becca shiver. She zipped up her jacket as she walked down the stone steps towards the small parking lot. Her car was the only one still parked out front, and she quickly climbed inside.
Her gaze fell on the still-sealed file on the passenger seat, and she cringed, throwing her handbag on top of it.
I don’t have the strength to deal with that right now, she thought to herself.
The drive to her apartment was uneventful, since she missed the rush-hour traffic. Cars now flowed smoothly, and Becca felt calm for the first time that day.
The image of Veskovic and his family flashed through her mind, and she wondered which one of the princes she would meet with tomorrow. Her palms started to sweat, and she silently scolded herself for acting like a teenage girl with a crush. She needed to keep it together, be professional at all times. She didn’t want Veskovic to think that she wasn’t focused enough while meeting with his son. She wanted to be taken seriously, so now she had to act like it.
At a red light, she stopped her car and glanced at the file once again, its corner sticking out from under her handbag. She ran her fingers through her dark brown hair and knew she had to look inside the file sooner or later. Lucinda had made it perfectly clear how long she had struggled to get her hands on the information that was inside, which of course made Becca feel guilty. Lucinda had gone to so much trouble and effort to get a hold of her fami
ly records, she was practically forced to open it.
She noticed the light turn green, and just as she started to pull away, a black Lamborghini sped around the corner, with zero regard for the red light.
Becca slammed on her brakes and watched in exasperation and disapproval as the Lamborghini sped past her.
“Oh, my gods! What a jerk!” she exclaimed, her heart pounding in her chest. She slowly pulled away again and drove home.
Her apartment was warm, and as she cuddled up on her couch after she had dinner, she gazed out the window. The sealed file lay on the coffee table, directly below her line of sight. It was as if she was afraid to look at it for longer than a moment.
Becca wasn’t exactly sure why she felt this way, but something still made her very uneasy about learning more about her family. Her conversation with Lucinda also replayed in her mind, adding more dread to the situation than there already was.
What if her family had been a bunch of killers? What if they had been bad people, and it was all there in the file?
Becca was afraid that her family was the cause of the violence she had been born into but didn’t remember. What if they had caused it? What if they had caused the deaths of so many people and the collapse of so many homes and buildings?
The uncertainty would drive her crazy, but she was also torn between wanting to know and not wanting to.
She discarded thoughts of what the file could possibly contain and stood from the couch. She walked to her bedroom, and as she approached the window, she heard screeching tires in the distance. She peered out the window just in time to see the black Lamborghini from earlier whizz down the street.
“That lunatic is at it again,” she muttered and closed the shades.
Becca considered reporting the driver for his reckless driving and complete disregard towards the laws, but she wondered whether the police department might think she was being petty.
How many black Lamborghinis could there possibly be in Vancouver? she thought as she took a shower.
While getting ready for bed, she remembered her meeting with Veskovic’s son tomorrow morning, and she grabbed her phone. She searched for the Veskovic family and found the picture Lucinda had shown her earlier that day. She couldn’t believe that someone like Veskovic could have such a beautiful wife and four very attractive sons.
“They definitely take after their mother,” she mumbled to herself. Veskovic wasn’t an unattractive man, but his sons were ridiculously good looking. “I wonder who I’ll be meeting with tomorrow.”
She found an article online with their names, which were as gorgeous as they were, but since Veskovic didn’t mention the name of his son, it could be any one of the four. It didn’t really matter which one it was, to be honest, because there was no way that any of the princes would give her a second glance.
Becca didn’t consider herself to be unattractive, but she wasn’t nearly attractive enough for a Dragon Prince to notice her. Men like them were in a completely different league, and she didn’t stand a chance.
Not that she wanted to stand a chance. Her dating life was less than booming, and the last relationship she had, had ended in tragedy.
He was a human, and she should have known that it was a relationship doomed from the start. She couldn’t tell him about her being a dragon, and that lie tore them apart—quite literally.
Sure, it had been almost five centuries ago, but she still remembered it like it was yesterday, and the vision of watching him being trampled to death by another dragon would stay with her forever.
She still hadn’t forgiven herself for what had happened to him, as it could have been prevented if she had merely told him the truth. She also knew, though, that he would not have believed her.
Becca fell down against the soft pillows and stared up at the ceiling, hoping that one day she would find the strength to let go of the past and move on with her life.
3
Dax’s brow furrowed at the building in front of him. His father had told him where the non-profit organization was located, but Dax was convinced he was in the wrong place. It was on the wrong side of town—as he tactlessly referred to it—which was where he never went. He was too busy living the high life to notice that Vancouver had a poorer and less glamorous part.
He strutted towards the stone steps and slipped his sunglasses off. He opened the wooden door and stepped inside. He was surprised by the size of the offices and casually, very suavely, walked to the small front desk. A middle-aged woman with grey hair and a friendly face glanced at him with a smile and said, “Good morning, sir. May I help you?”
“I have an appointment with Ms. Dillon,” he answered in his usual low and velvety tone.
“And your name is?”
“Veskovic.”
The woman’s eyes widened slightly, but she remained professional. “Ms. Dillon is on a call at the moment. Let me show you to the meeting room, Mr. Veskovic.”
“Thank you,” Dax said, flashing her a smile, and he followed the woman down the hallway.
She opened a paneled door and motioned towards him to enter. Dax stepped into the room and took in his surroundings. It was a simple meeting room, with a large table in the middle and chairs positioned around it. A large window looked over a small concrete courtyard behind the building, and a copy of a Renoir painting he knew very well hung next to the window. His father owned the original, and regrettably, Dax had always hated it.
“Ms. Dillon will be right with you, Mr. Veskovic. Can I bring you a cup of coffee?”
“No, thank you. I am fine.”
The woman nodded and quietly left the room.
Dax sat in one of the chairs, making himself as comfortable as he could. He stared at the painting again. He should really give this place the benefit of the doubt, because it wasn’t their fault that they had a different taste in art. It was also clear that this organization needed the funds his father was willing to donate to them, although he wondered why exactly his father had chosen this place.
The door opened suddenly, and as Dax raised his gaze to the woman in the doorway, it all became clear to him.
She was beautiful, and for a moment, Dax’s world came to a complete standstill.
A pair of bright blue-lavender eyes gazed at him, framed with long, silky dark brown hair. Despite seeing her for the first time, Dax instantly felt as though he had known her his entire life, which was a strange feeling, but Dax knew what it was.
He had heard countless tales from both his mother and father about the moment when they had met. They instantly knew that they were destined to be together, mates for all eternity, although Dax had never truly believed that was possible. He had lived most of his life under the impression that he would never find his mate and also dismissed the idea of love. To him, it never existed, despite seeing his parents love one another no matter the circumstances.
Dax was also no stranger to the tales of the curse which was stricken upon them while they were still nestled inside their eggs, a curse cast upon the four princes to spend the next five thousand years alone, without their mates. Even if they managed to find their mates afterwards, it would be difficult to keep them, since the curse still existed, regardless if Rhaena the Wicked was dead or alive.
Curses that powerful, and filled with that much hate and disdain, lasted forever. Apparently, there was a way to break the curse, but those who attempted it perished a horrible death.
The woman’s lips parted slightly, as if she felt the same intensity inside her that Dax did, and he stood from his chair.
“You must be Ms. Dillon,” Dax said, holding out his hand towards her.
“Please, call me Becca,” she said with a smile, walking over to him. “And you must be Arlo’s son.”
“Dax Veskovic. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
A bolt of electricity ripped through him as their skin touched, and he noticed her gorgeous blue-lavender eyes swirling with something he had only heard of in the old fables his mot
her used to tell.
It was real.
And it was terrifying to Dax.
“Likewise.” Becca motioned to the chairs, and they sat down at the same time, perfectly in sync with one another. “Your father told me that you’re planning the charity fundraiser for him,” Becca said.
“Clearly, my father has more faith in me, since it’s the first time I’m actually planning it for him,” Dax explained.
“So, you’re not in the event planning business?” she inquired, and he shook his head. “What exactly do you do then, Mr. Veskovic?”
“Please, call me Dax,” Dax insisted gently with a charismatic smile.
Becca held his gaze intently for a moment longer than what was necessary, and Dax’s whole body started to tingle.
“Alright, Dax,” Becca said. “What is it that you do for a living?”
“Well, that’s a complicated question.”
She cocked her head at him, and a lock of dark brown hair fell onto her face. “And why is that?”
“I do pretty much whatever I want, whenever I want,” he replied coyly, though he couldn’t help but include a tone of modesty.
Becca sat back in her chair and pouted her lips, which Dax wanted to kiss so badly his insides ached. It would be unconventional, and very unprofessional, but he couldn’t get the thought of her mouth against his out of his mind. He wondered how she tasted, and it only made matters worse.
“Oh, I get it,” she finally said. “You drive an expensive car and spend exuberant amounts of money every day on luxury items that normal people like me can only dream about.”
A crooked smile appeared on his lips, and he cocked his head. “Well, if you ask nicely, maybe I could make some of those dreams a reality.”
Was his response corny? Absolutely. Was it working? The jury was still out.
Becca raised an apprehensive eyebrow at him and cleared her throat. “Anyway, we’re not here to talk about me. Your father told me that you—”
“I am going to stop you right there, Becca,” Dax interrupted. “I am not sure what my father told you exactly, but you have to understand this. We’re two completely different people, him and me. We grew up in different times, different places. We have different ideas, and I don’t think that only hearing one side of the story is the best way to get to know me.”
