by Alexis Anne
He bounced his eyebrows. “We could leave tonight.”
“Theo…” I groaned.
He shrugged.
I showed Mrs. Brighton to the door. “The paintings will be delivered at lunch tomorrow and installed per your request.” I glared at Darcy as he held open the door.
“Yes, thank you dear.” Then she cleared her throat as she looked up at Darcy. “Good day.”
Darcy, of course, didn’t look the least bit fazed by her dismissal. He never did. It was as if none of the games we played in society mattered to him at all.
I’d always been a bit jealous of that.
“It’s good to see you Nicki,” he said the moment the door closed, his voice dropping into an almost-whisper. It was rough.
Intimate.
Entirely too familiar for someone who’d barely spoken to me in two years. Definitely too intimate for someone who’d kicked me out of his bed and never looked back.
I carefully avoided looking at him as I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. “What are you doing here?”
“He’s coming to the reception,” Theo yelled from my couch.
“Father invited you to the reception, not him,” I yelled back.
Darcy froze. It was just for a split second, but I noticed it. “Theo invited me.”
“He’s part of things now, Nik,” Theo yelled again. “He’s my friend. I want him there.”
Of course he did.
Darcy followed me back to the living room. Always a full step behind me and yet I could somehow feel every bit of him as we walked across the room.
“You really think this is all going to work out, don’t you?”
Theo smiled up at me, all big brotherly and sweet. “Why not? Look at you. You look fantastic and you’re selling art. I might be wrong but I think I even saw a smile on your face when I proposed to Mrs. Brighton.”
I’m not all right.
And Theo was naïve to think any of this would work out in our favor.
“I need to change my clothes,” I muttered. “There’s beer and snacks in the kitchen.”
The truth was that most of the time I felt like I was living someone else’s life, like I shrugged on this body and was wearing it around like a costume. I was watching myself live instead of feeling like this was my life. There were days where I swear I didn’t feel a thing until I slipped into my oversized t-shirt and picked up the paintbrush.
And of course that’s when all the feelings came spilling out. Like an unstoppable tide. Some nights I skipped sleeping entirely, opting instead to be consumed by the darkness.
As I peeled off my clothes I could hear the boys joking and clinking beer bottles as if they didn’t have a care in the world. How? How could they go about their lives as if they hadn’t just lived through hell? They were lucky they could walk around free and without a price on their heads. They should feel the weight of what they’d done.
Or maybe they were just appreciating the freedom they had to live.
Maybe I needed to be more like them.
The last two years had been nothing but constant upheaval for all of us. Not long after my overdose Theo and Darcy were both arrested as part of sting to bring down the Christie Gang.
My brother, the genius, went off to university at the rip old age of thirteen, meeting the man who would become his best friend, despite their six year age difference. Needing to escape my father’s control and his destiny to join the Duncan Boys, Theo and Darcy made the unfortunate decision to take a job for Dan Christie, a thief putting together a team to pull off one of the biggest heists in decades. Theo and Darcy saw opportunity and joined in. When authorities started sniffing around, Father cut a deal: bring the authorities the evidence they needed to arrest the entire Christie Gang and they would go free in exchange.
There was only one downside. Theo and Darcy had to come home and work for Father. He hadn’t forced them to work with the Boys yet, but the time was coming and I couldn’t help feeling that this was the calm before the storm. That everything that had happened was still just a precursor to much worse things to come.
Or maybe my soul was black and I expected everything to end in chaos.
I slipped into a simple black shift dress and heels, accenting the basic dress with a large gold and pink necklace with matching earrings and bracelets. My dark hair was down in long waves and I really didn’t feel like pinning it up, so I slid a fresh coat of gloss onto my lips and returned to the living room.
“Stunning as always,” Theo smiled. “Beer?”
“No thank you,” I murmured. Heroin had been my weakness, not alcohol, but I rarely indulged in anything since that night two years earlier.
I glanced up in time to catch the brooding look in Darcy’s eyes as he leaned against my kitchen counter.
Dark.
Different than my painting of the demons, but just as intense.
“Are you ill, Darcy?” I asked.
“No. I was just thinking…”
About me, no doubt. About that night I couldn’t remember. Theo tried to ignore what happened entirely, but I knew Darcy was haunted by my actions. I’d really fucked him over with my overdose and it was for that reason that I cut him some slack. I didn’t want him here and I most certainly didn’t want to be his friend, but if Theo and Father insisted, I would deal with it.
He deserved that much from me.
“I’ve got to piss before we head out,” Theo said, setting his empty bottle by the sink and practically skipped out of the kitchen as if his sister and his best friend weren’t reliving the darkest moment of their lives.
Maybe Theo really was that completely clueless.
I somehow doubted that.
And since I really didn’t want to stand there staring at nothing, I busied myself with cleaning imaginary spills on the counter.
“You look beautiful tonight, Nicki.”
His words vibrated through my veins in a way that they really shouldn’t. “Thank you.”
“You really don’t think I’ll ever fit in?”
It wasn’t that. Not really. I swept at the edge of the sink and threw the rag down. “I don’t understand why you want to try.”
“I owe your father everything.”
A thought that nauseated me to the core. “So continue working for him.”
He arched an eyebrow and for the first time since he walked into my flat I took a moment to really drink in the sight of him. Fuck, he was handsome. I’d fallen for him the moment I first laid eyes on him all those years ago. He was much younger and goofier back then, not that it had mattered.
But now? He’d grown into a man. He was strong. A survivor. His bright blue eyes showed the changes the most. They were harder, more focused. Everything about Darcy was rougher.
He still turned me on like no one else.
“You really don’t know me very well do you?” he chuckled.
“I know you, Darcy. I just think you underestimate my father.”
Now both his eyebrows rose. “I’ll make my way.”
Not here. I wanted him to go anywhere but here. Working for my father would only push him and Theo both back into the world they just left. I wanted so much more for them.
“Let’s get pissed,” Theo called as he suddenly returned to the kitchen, breaking whatever weird spell we’d been under in his absence.
“Please tell me Father sent the car and you’re not driving.”
Theo snorted. “How else will the king ensure his loyal subjects arrive on time?”
We arrived at our family home in Kensington mostly intact. Darcy and Theo had only tried to kill each other twice. I’d never understand the way boys interacted with each other or how they managed to exact so much damage in the space of a car.
Our family home was on a quiet unassuming street and it had been in the family for three generations—a blink of an eye compared to some of our neighbors—bought from a much more prestigiously titled family looking to downsize in tough times. It was mas
sive, formal, and very much a mask to cover the sins that took place inside.
“You sure you’re okay?” Darcy whispered as we handed over our coats.
“I’m excellent,” I lied with a smile. The truth was that I was pretending to be excellent. I needed to be excellent so that’s what I was.
He didn’t believe me, but he didn’t press me either. Instead he stepped back beside Theo and waited to be announced.
“Miss Nicole Sutherland, Mr. Theo Sutherland, and Mr. Darcy Higgins.”
We stepped inside the reception with several glances our way. Money dripped from every inch of the fifty guests. Tall tables were set up around our parlor so guests could stand and talk while enjoying their cocktails. A small string quartet played in the corner out of the way.
Father was nowhere to be seen which meant he was still in his office working up until the last possible second. It meant I still had a few moments of peace, but that peace was fragile. I walked straight to the bar and ordered a glass of white wine.
“Is that wise?” The familiar voice should have made me happy, instead a shiver of tension raced down my spine.
“I’m going to sip on it all night. I don’t think you need to worry.” I took the glass and turned to look up at my boyfriend, Ian Clayton.
“I always worry about you.” He took my elbow in his hand and planted a soft kiss on my cheek. I felt nothing.
“I just need something in my hands.” Maybe if I smiled he’d let it drop.
I really should be attracted to Ian. He was thirty-two, enigmatic, and sexy enough. He was fit with a decent face and a head full of light brown hair. Unfortunately for me he was very ordinary and I had found early on that ordinary bored me to tears. He was pleasant but he wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time. Of course, as my father so carefully reminded me when he arranged our relationship, dating and marriage weren’t for love. They were for power.
And Ian was very powerful.
It didn’t matter that I’d barely been home two weeks when my new flat and my new boyfriend were both hand delivered to me like a prize. It didn’t matter that I needed time to get my life in order after nearly ending it.
In fact, nothing I thought mattered. It never did.
“You look stunning, Nicole. Very classic and you know how much I appreciate that.”
But.
I could hear it coming from a mile away.
“Thank you.”
“But your hair…” he sighed, running his fingers down the waves I’d hastily left loose. “We discussed this.”
In great detail. “I’m sorry. Theo was early and I rushed to get ready.”
“Please don’t let it happen again. I know it’s a small thing, but it’s important.” He brushed my hair back over my shoulder.
Ian was a traditionalist. He and my father agreed in this area completely. Women were showpieces that represented their wealth. When in public I was to appear the picture of classic, obedient perfection. My black dress had been an excellent choice. My jewelry was acceptable only because it was expensive. But my hair?
Oh no. Women did not wear their hair down.
And if I was being perfectly honest, I’d done it on purpose. The rebel inside me lived on, just much more quietly than she used to.
I plastered on a perfectly fake, simple, pliant smile. “Of course, darling. It’s my youth. I keep forgetting I’m not a girl anymore.”
That always appeased him. At thirty-two, Ian was eleven years my senior and often enjoyed pointing out how young and inexperienced I was. He knew who I’d been—what I’d done—and I think in many ways his constant reminders of my age were his way of erasing the past and replacing it with the story he preferred: young, inexperienced heiress swept off her feet by the powerful and handsome billionaire.
The only words in that sentence that were true were young, heiress, and billionaire. My experience lapped him many times over and while he was somewhat powerful, he was more of a puppet to the men who really controlled the money. Men like my father.
“Clayton!” Ronan Doyle boomed, beckoning us over to his circle and saving me from the rest of my lecture on appearances. Doyle ran the largest investment firm in London and Ian, a financial ingénue, ran the largest bank. I was standing between the two richest men in the city. Well, behind my father, of course.
No one was richer than him. On or off paper.
“Are we still on for drinks next Friday?” Ian asked as he shook Ronan’s hand.
“Yes, but I was wondering about next month. Your assistant said you were out of town.”
Ian chuckled quietly, sliding his arm around my waist. “We’re on holiday in Italy that week.”
My skin pricked at the idea of spending a romantic week away with Ian but I kept reminding myself that the paintings I’d come home with would be fantastic.
That’s when I realized my skin was pricking for an entirely different reason. Across the room Darcy was staring at Ian’s arm around my waist as if he wanted to see it catch on fire.
What the hell was that?
Darcy had been nothing but bizarre contradictions since my overdose. Hounding the doctors to see me then refusing to return my calls when I had my head on straight. He and Theo both visited me at art school and Darcy would take every opportunity to get me alone, then barely speak to me.
And when I finished school and moved back to London? He avoided me like the plague, almost as if he hated me and never wanted to see me again. I was getting whiplash trying to figure out his changing moods. All I could think was it had to do with that night. I couldn’t remember anything after my last hit, but Theo finally told me that it was Darcy who found me. He was the one who sat with me while he waited for help.
He was holding me when I stopped breathing.
That had to have been hard and I didn’t blame him for feeling confused about his feelings toward me. I welcomed it. He was the only one who treated me like a person. Father pretended it never happened. Theo always made jokes so he didn’t have to feel. And Michael, my oldest brother, simply never discussed it. Ever. When the topic came up he locked his jaw and folded his arms.
End of discussion.
But at least with Darcy there was something. I might not understand it, but it was real and it was raw.
I narrowed my eyes and he relaxed, then shrugged, pretending not to care again as he sipped his drink and laughed with Theo, but I noticed that his eyes kept drifting back to Ian’s arm around my waist.
“I’m here,” Margaret huffed as she sidled up beside me.
I twisted out of Ian’s hold to give her a hug. “Thank you for rescuing me,” I whispered in her ear.
“That bad, huh?”
“Yes.” And I left it at that. If anyone understood my life, it was Margaret. She and Theo were the same age and we’d all grown up together. Our family’s country estates were next door to each other and we both had homes here in Kensington. My mother ran off the day I was born, so when Theo went off to college at thirteen, Margaret was all I had left. We went to the same boarding school and she tried her level best to be the surrogate family I needed and I tried to be the sister she never had.
I was shit at it. But she loved me anyway and for that I was eternally grateful.
“Where’s Theo?”
I nodded toward the corner. “Higgins?” she groaned. “He is really trying to fit in, isn’t he?”
“I’ll never understand.”
Her gaze froze for a moment. “No, you won’t.”
“What do you mean?” The way she said that, it was directed at me, not Higgins.
“Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
I didn’t have time ask for more because at that exact same moment the room grew quiet, which meant only one thing. I wasn’t surprised when Father’s booming voice echoed across the room a moment later.
“Welcome. I’m sure you’re all curious as to why you’ve been invited here tonight.” Donald stood near the bar, holding up a glass. He was dresse
d in a black suit with a black tie—the same one he wore to every party he threw. This last year his hair had softened from black to silver, giving him a dignified appearance that was in direct contradiction to his personality.
The crowd moved closer, forming a semi-circle around him. “Tonight we are celebrating my son, Theo. His company, iON Innovations, has just officially grossed a billion pounds for the first time, thanks to the new memory storage compression software developed by his company. Along with the new patents for drone technology and high capacity battery storage, his company is set to command the technology sector for decades to come.”
The crowd clapped politely as Theo moved to stand beside Father. That was why Darcy was here tonight. Theo needed the support when World War III broke out in the Sutherland house later.
Theo stood and smiled politely at the group, looking as uncomfortable as I’d ever seen him. He hated the spotlight, but he was growing into it. I’d noticed the changes but seeing him up there it hit me all at once. His clothes had changed and he was starting to develop a style of his own. An old school thirties vibe that came through in the cut of his suit and the pocket watch tucked into his vest. He stood taller and looked people in the eye. He didn’t used to do that. There was a brash confidence that came with some serious firepower behind it. He’d always been a cocky pain in my ass, but as a kid that had been the annoying, spoiled kind. This was different. This was a man building an empire.
The fight tonight wouldn’t be Theo and Michael fighting over the spoils of the Sutherland Empire, it would be Theo and I pleading for Michael to stay. He’d been one foot out the door for years and now that Theo had lived up to our father’s hopes and dreams, Michael would use it as his excuse to escape.
Except Father would never allow it.
Not that it would stop Michael from trying.
“You’re drinking tonight,” Margaret murmured.
Sure enough, my wine was gone. I shrugged. “I think tonight is a special circumstance.”
“You’re okay with that?”
And the thing was, I really was okay. “You know how sometimes a cigarette smoker can finally quit but years later she enjoys a good cigar from time to time?”
