Darkside Love Affair

by Michelle Rosigliani

  “And Charlotte,” he added in that same authoritative, cool voice before he reached the door. “In this firm, I am not your father. I am your boss. Do not be late again.”

  “Yes, sir!” The words came out drily, with just a shade of hurt.

  I closed my eyes, rubbing my eyelids with the heels of my hands, probably smearing my makeup in the process. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them spill. I didn’t deserve to be crying. After all my sacrifices, the least my father could grant me was a pleasant environment to work in.

  What he thought he was granting me, though, was the honor of working with some of the best lawyers in the country. While I had never dreamed of nor desired such an honor, my destiny had been written before I was even born.

  I walked to the glass wall behind my desk and looked outside. My office, unlike my father’s, was not on the top floor of the building, but it still offered a spectacular view over Central Park. From this far up, I could only see the treetops, but the tranquility that small part of nature exuded managed to calm me when nothing else in the office could.

  I breathed once more, longing for a cleansing run by the lake, but in the end, I let out a sigh and returned to my duties. It was going to be a stressful day.

  BY LUNCHTIME, MY HEAD was throbbing with a dull ache, and my stomach churned painfully, but I didn’t dare leave my office for a quick meal. My father’s earlier admonishment had been more than enough, so when my step-sister waltzed in, unannounced and with her baby daughter in her arms, I was afraid to even hope I could enjoy half an hour of their company.

  Christina was four years older than me, and the only parent we had in common was specifically the father she nearly despised, and I dreaded. James had married Christina’s mother, Julie, for a brief period, his reasons uncertain as were the reasons he’d had for filing for divorce six months later.

  Three months after the divorce, Christina was born, but my father had stubbornly and repeatedly refused to recognize her.

  While Julie had always refused to allow a DNA test, Christina had accepted it as soon as she became of age, but by that time, my father had burned bridges and inflicted wounds that couldn’t be mended. By the time he accepted that Christina was his first daughter, she had already grown to love another man as her dad and had built a life which James Burton was not a part of.

  Thankfully, she was not as rancorous as to not allow me to be a part of her life. Although my father hadn’t allowed me to spend much time with Christina when I was young, he hadn’t cut her out from my life altogether, so we developed an excellent relationship long before a test result told us that we were indeed sisters.

  “Hello, pumpkin,” Christina chuckled as she sat little Marie on the black leather sofa in the far corner of my office.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. She had been calling me that ever since we spent our first Thanksgiving together, and I ate a whole pumpkin on my own. I really liked pumpkin, I thought, and my empty stomach instantly reacted.

  “Hi,” I sang, a sincere smile lighting my expression as I gave her a warm hug then swiftly bent to press a kiss on top of my adorable niece’s head. “Nobody announced you two. Hello, Marie. Did you miss me, precious?”

  “Did we need an announcement?” Christina asked, falsely upset.

  “No, of course not, but...”

  “Bah-bu-oon...” Marie muttered, coming into my arms eagerly as soon as I sat near her on the sofa. The girl had an innate talent for making you instantly fall in love with her.

  “What’s she trying to say?” I asked Christina.

  “Balloon,” Christina laughed and rolled her eyes. “Logan spoils her too much. Now the entire house is full of balloons.”

  Marie was an exact replica of Christina when she had been a baby. I could even see a small resemblance to me, which meant that our father’s genes weighed more than Christina wanted to admit. She was a peewee with dark curls and big almond eyes that conquered you with their brown depths. But it was the broad, childish smile she displayed all the time that stole your heart. It was unbelievable how such a small creature could control all the adults around her. And we let her do so freely because she was tremendously loved.

  “So any reason in particular why you are visiting me?”

  We saw each other almost daily, but she had a determination to not cross our father’s path, which I never questioned. To see her come willingly into his territory where she could bump into him at any moment was more than surprising. It was strange.

  “To take you out to lunch, of course.”

  “Chris, I don’t know—I don’t think I should today. Father is already upset with me.”

  “When is he not?” she scoffed, struggling to hide her distaste. “But anyway, you are entitled to a lunch break, so that’s where we’re going. I know this place close by. They make a salmon salad to die for.”

  “Chris, I am serious. I don’t want to fight with him anymore.”

  “You won’t fight with him, I promise.”

  A sudden sadness crossed her chocolate eyes, the same color as my own, as our father’s, but then the sadness was gone. What she had meant was that James would not fight with me if she were close by so he could fight with her.

  I hated that he had never let her in, never tried to love her, never offered her the place she deserved in his heart, in his life, and in his family.

  Marie clenched her little fists in my hair and bumped her small feet against my knees, happiness dancing in her astonishing eyes. I wished I were so carefree, so happy.

  I was so accustomed to always pleasing my father that I was ready to put work before family.

  “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 4

  Marcus

  Although I knew I was making a fool of myself, the stupid grin I had been wearing all day simply didn’t want to wane. How likely was it to meet the same woman by accident twice in less than a week when I had never met her before? And why was I still thinking of her?

  Or maybe I wasn’t thinking of her but of those fascinating brown eyes that glimmered with emotion. Bravery and fear fused together in their depths. She blinked and hinted at the mysteries she was sheltering. Mysteries, especially when they wore the disguise of a beautiful woman, rendered a man’s fantasy wild.

  “Earth to King Marcus,” Bryson shouted smacking me right up on the head.

  “Touch me again, and I don’t guarantee you’ll keep your hand.”

  “Oooh, don’t taunt the tiger,” Brayden laughed, throwing his head back and slapping his knees repeatedly, something he always did when he was amused.

  L’Affaire was once again packed with strident people. Sitting quietly in such a place was more likely to attract attention than Brayden’s howling laughter. Despite the intoxicating smoke and the tart smell of alcohol filling the air, I liked being there.

  The clamor of the place, the agitation, and the different personalities created a unique vibe that pulsated with the music. It was a pleasant mixture that drowned out my dark thoughts. I couldn’t think of my problems when I was here, but apparently, I could think of Brayden’s Friday night prey. Having them know that I was thinking of her was the last thing I wanted.

  “Who won the race Friday night?” I asked to distract myself from pursuing my line of thought and them from asking unsolicited questions.

  They all exchanged a look while Kai sighed dreamily. Suddenly, there was no need for an answer as I suspected who must have won the damn race.

  “It was The Fox. She won by a minute.”

  “She won because you are complete drunken idiots. That’s why,” I cut in bitterly.

  I was not misogynistic. A woman could win a motorcycle race just as efficiently as a man if she was properly trained and had the skill to tame her bike. But The Fox was not just a woman. She was the monument of everything I despised in a female, and for that, I simply could not conceive of the fact that she had earned the satisfaction of winning a race or anything else for that
matter.

  “The woman is just...unbelievable,” Kai sighed again, a far-off look in his eyes.

  My cousin was not an idiot, but he wasn’t far from being one either. I was perhaps the only one who had noticed his fondness for The Fox, whose real name few actually knew, and I was also the only one to warn him against developing or pursuing that attachment. After all, how could I counsel my own blood to court a woman who had been openly trying to seduce me? The only reason I hadn’t welcomed her advances was that I refused to be the toy of any woman. I was not a plaything, and what she wanted was exactly that.

  “The woman is just...treacherous,” I corrected him with a frown.

  “Exactly,” Brayden joined in with bitter enthusiasm. “Women are treacherous, and they treacherously stab you in the back.”

  “I didn’t mean all of them.”

  I knew Brayden was still hurting because of what Harper had done to him. I knew he could taste her betrayal every day because, despite everything he said or did, he still loved her stupidly and that was why it hurt that bad.

  I could see his wounds, raw and bleeding, but that didn’t mean he was right in treating all the women passing through his life like they were garbage. Some women cheated and messed up a man’s life, but just as well, some men broke hearts and destroyed destinies. I was one of them.

  “What do you know?” he spat, standing and kicking off his chair. With a look of sheer disgust, he walked to the bar for another night of drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

  “I know that you are so enraged that the right person might walk into your life and you might just miss her,” I shouted after him, knowing that whoever else heard me would not give a damn.

  “Then you know nothing. There’s no such thing as the right person, you idiot.”

  “Great,” Kai exhaled, falling back in his chair and locking his hands behind his head.

  Kai was the one who hated conflict the most. Maybe out of all of us, Kai was the one with the highest potential and the kindest heart. Too bad for him that he kept us as company.

  “He’ll get over it eventually,” Bryson mumbled, his eyes trailing to his brother.

  They might have been acting more often than not as complete idiots, the idea of responsibility might have been foreign to them, but when it mattered the most, they were there for each other, and they were there for Kai and me too. We might have brawled and disagreed, but in the end, the bond that united us was stronger than any argument.

  “What’s up with you, though?” Bryson asked, his whole attention suddenly focused on me.

  At first, I thought he was referring to my earlier reflective mood, but when I caught sight of his openly concerned expression and slightly knit brows, I knew he was referring, in fact, to my father.

  “You mean what’s up with Isaac?” I simply couldn’t call him father. He was not a father to me. A father wouldn’t do to his son what he was doing to me. “He’s still trying to put me in jail. He’s still frustrated that he’s failing.”

  “The bastard,” Bryson growled under his breath, clenching his jaw after another shot of alcohol. “How long is he going to persecute you like this?”

  “Until I subject myself to his damn wishes,” I sighed and gulped the remainder of my glass of whiskey.

  Although I didn’t usually drink before races, I allowed myself those few sips. The liquid burned my throat and rushed down to my stomach like a serpent of fire.

  “Who’s racing tonight?” I asked, eager to change the course of the discussion.

  “The Fox,” Kai mumbled almost inaudibly yet loud enough for me to hear. When my fist connected with his shoulder, he didn’t even flinch.

  “Cut him some slack, dude,” Bryson laughed. “The idiot is falling in love.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “Hey, I’m still here,” Kai protested. I could have sworn the slightest tinge of red had already colored his cheeks.

  I left L’Affaire roughly an hour later. I needed to clear my mind before the race and make sure that nobody was tailing me. My father knew about my questionable habit and had made quite a lot of attempts to expose me to the authorities, but I was not going to facilitate his work and let him discover that easily where or when the races took place.

  I was passing Paris Theater when a flash of royal blue caught my eye, and a familiar feminine voice reached my ears. Actually, the voice was not familiar at all. It hadn’t even been a whole week since the first time I heard it, so the fact that it already sounded familiar should have worried me. But for now, I was too intrigued by my brown-eyed mystery to care.

  I turned around and fully watched her. She had been remarkable when frightened. She had been appealing when furious. But now, as she laughed and her long brown locks bounced around her head, she was mesmerizing.

  A man wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple as she continued laughing at whatever he was telling her. I tried ignoring the rash displeasure caused by their proximity and instead focused on her.

  She didn’t wear anything out of the ordinary, just a blue chiffon blouse and a pair of white pants, paired with high stilettos that could have stirred any man’s imagination, but the simple attire complimented her in all the right places.

  The man let go of her and put his arm protectively, dominantly even, around the waist of another woman, who had just joined them, holding tickets. I breathed with a relief I didn’t expect to feel, and suddenly, I made a decision I had never expected to make. When they turned to enter the movie theater, I followed and bought my own ticket. After all, how could I have allowed a beautiful woman to feel like the third wheel next to a couple of lovebirds?

  Judging by the price I had to pay for that little piece of paper and by the crowd filling the hall, there must have been the preview of some movie. I didn’t even bother to check the name. My attention was solely focused on the woman with the blue blouse.

  By the time I made it inside, she had already sat with her friends in the eighth row. Although my seat was three rows behind, I hurried to catch the empty chair to her left. I had a little plan I needed to carry out—I needed to find out the name of my mystery.

  A girl headed for my seat, innocently believing she could claim it, but froze when she bumped into me. With a furious blush, she scurried away as soon as she took notice of my glare. She slid in the closest seat to the wall and risked another look at me, only to find me glaring some more for good measure.

  Although my first instinct had been to plump down noisily, anticipating my mystery’s predictable startle, I sat as quietly and discreetly as possible. I reined myself in for two reasons: one, I had already startled her on our previous two meetings and the outcome hadn’t been pleasant, and two, I knew I would enjoy more a look of incredulous surprise than a jerk of apprehension.

  “One of these days your sister is going to give me diabetes,” the man sitting next to her was saying, causing the other woman to instantly protest. So my mystery had a sister. Had I not been so intrigued and enraptured by her, maybe I would have adequately appreciated the beauty of her sibling.

  “That is not true. And the only reason you might get diabetes is that you can’t get enough of my cakes.”

  “True,” my mystery spoke. “And I’ll get fat before getting diabetes.”

  I bit my tongue to stop from interfering and telling her that she was anything but fat and that I was willing to keep her fit myself. A stupid grin covered my face just when the opening credits started playing and the lights dimmed.

  I set my arm on the armrest between us and waited for her reaction. It wasn’t long until she accidentally touched me, or rather, scratched the skin off my hand, then whirled in her seat to apologize.

  At first, she wore a magnificently apologetic expression, which was quickly tinted by that incredulous surprise I had expected. Then, the funniest shade of revulsion settled from the depths of her brown eyes to the tilt of her rosy lips. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughi
ng. She was truly delightful.

  “Unbelievable,” she muttered, but in the silence that had fallen, her voice sounded too loud.

  “Oh, what a surprise,” I answered, falsely shocked. My smile simply didn’t want to leave my face.

  “What are you trying to accomplish?” she hissed. Once more, her voice was too loud for the silence surrounding us.

  “What’s that?” the man next to her asked, leaning into my mystery, which only caught the attention of the other woman. All of a sudden, the three of them were facing me—my mystery with a vexed look on her face and her two companions with skeptical surprise sparkling in their eyes.

  “Hi. I apologize for being late,” I told them as if we were old acquaintances and held out my hand. “I’m Marcus King.”

  “Mm—Hi,” the man answered, still skeptical but shaking my hand briskly. “Logan Barrett.”

  “Christina,” the sister said and shook my hand in a very feminine way, displaying a blooming smile she couldn’t quite suppress. “I didn’t know you invited someone, sis.”

  “I didn’t...” she objected, this time so quietly that I hardly heard her. The disgust on her face, however, was beyond visible and beyond amusing.

  “Now,” I whispered, inching closer to her as Logan and Christina returned their attention to the big screen. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name, sugar?”

  “I am not sugar, and I am not—” she trailed off, struggling to keep her voice down.

  “If you don’t tell me your name, I have to call you something.”

  She kept her eyes fixed on the screen although I doubted she was paying any attention to the movie. She sat rigidly by my side, but thankfully, there wasn’t any trace of panic. Maybe her body knew better than her mind that I didn’t mean her any harm.

  “Ignoring me isn’t going to work,” I whispered in her ear.

  I had a height advantage over her even if we were sitting, so I was able to catch every twist of her features without moving my head. I got the distinct impression that she wasn’t as revolted as she let on. And I liked that. It meant that I had a chance to creep past her defenses.