‘I shouldn't be here.’ The thought echoed relentlessly in my head. But my brain seemed incapable of controlling the strong will that drew me back to Adele. I hadn't planned to come, but the memory of Chad's disapproving stare compelled me to make a last-minute change and accompany the guards to the airport. I needed time to adjust to seeing her again, so I vacated my car and joined the escort's vehicle, allowing her to take my ride. It gave me the advantage of watching her without her knowledge. Observing her tear-stained eyes and obvious anguish made me reveal myself. Offering her physical comfort was a mistake, but I couldn't bear to witness her pain, especially knowing it was caused by me.
Lying on her bed now, the voices in my head grew louder, urging me to leave. Being able to wrap my arms around her again, feeling her warmth against my skin, was pure bliss. The months without her had been torture. For the first time in my life, I felt lost and out of control of my emotions. Nothing that used to bring me pleasure had the same effect anymore. It was frustrating to yearn for her while knowing I must keep my distance.
Before, I used Mark as an excuse, but now that Mark was absent due to my foolish decisions, I still couldn't be with her. It became painfully clear that Mark wasn't the real reason for my restraint. I could have defied him and secretly pursued her at school, being with her whenever and however I pleased, but I refrained because deep down, I cared about her. She wasn't like the other women I had been with, and the thought of trapping her with someone like me was sickening. The notion that she deserved better plagued me, fueling intense jealousy, yet I continued to stay away.
"That's a question you should have asked Mark himself. After all, he's your brother," I replied, moving away from the bed and strolling towards the side window, hands slipping into the pockets of my trousers.
"You're right," she whispered, settling back on the bed with her back turned to me. The temptation to join her in bed, to feel the intimacy once again, was overwhelming, but I knew I shouldn't. It would only prolong the pain and deceive myself further. I really needed to leave.
"I have to go. Will you be okay?" I asked, already striding towards the exit.
"Yeah, thanks," she whispered back. I let out a sigh, avoiding looking in her direction, afraid of seeing something that would weaken my resolve and make me abandon all reason, I said, "Do you have my number?"
"Yes," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. I nodded, ignoring the way her state tugged at my heartstrings.
"Great. Then you know to call me if you need help with anything," I said, and swiftly walked out, trying to escape like a bat out of hell. Rushing down the stairs, I barked orders for a few of my men to stay. Chad attempted to follow me out of the door, but I stopped him. Meeting his gaze, I said, "Watch her." He nodded and remained behind.
The search for Mark hadn't ceased. We had simply dug a grave to keep the truth hidden from Adele, as I didn't want to give her false hope if Mark eventually turned up dead. It was better for her to accept that he was gone. However, I wasn't ready to give up just yet. Barbara's revelation led us to pursue Adolf and Venom with unwavering determination. Unfortunately, when we found Adolf in a suite outside Brooks, the bastard was already dead. He had been stabbed multiple times, his guts spilling out. The lifeless bodies of his guards lined the hallway to his suite, and Venom was nowhere to be found. I still hadn't unraveled the mystery behind it, but it could only mean one thing: there was another player operating in the shadows. Venom couldn't be the culprit; he was Adolf's cousin and under Adolf's protection. Adolf's death would not benefit him.
One of my suspects was Jessica, but my father claimed I was partially mistaken. He had investigated with Jessica and discovered a trail of dead bodies as well. Jessica was not completely exonerated, but there was a shadow of doubt regarding her full responsibility. Of course, she had attempted to exploit that uncertainty.
A few days earlier:
I watched as Jessica peered into my study before striding inside. "I told you to stay away from me," I said.
"You owe me an apology," she said, joining me behind my desk and perching on its edge. She wore a backless gown that revealed the bandages covering her back, and the outline of her nipples hinted at the absence of a bra. Her blonde hair cascaded down in waves over her shoulders, and she had applied light makeup. Her alluring fruity perfume filled the air, tantalizing the senses. In other words, she looked the way she always did when she wanted to fuck. I could see through her easily.
"My investigation isn't complete, and I'm certain you haven't seen Mark here lately..." I replied, ignoring her.
"Archer..." she called, leaning towards me and cupping my bearded jaw, gently stroking my facial hair. "Why are you treating me like this? I would never do anything to hurt you. You should know that."
"I also know that you're ambitious, and ambition can cloud people's minds, leading them to make rash decisions."
"I understand that," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, and slowly pushed me back, straddling me. "But I will never do anything to harm Mark, knowing how you treat him like a blood brother," she continued, subtly grinding against me. I could feel she wasn't wearing any panties.
Normally, it wouldn't have taken me a second to free my dick and indulge her desires, but the truth was I wasn't even tempted. I felt nothing. It was a shock to her and a revealing moment for me. After a minute of grinding and circling her waist, trying to elicit a response from me, she searched my gaze.
Holding her gaze, I lifted her off of me and made her move back before rising to my feet, straightening my trousers, I squeezed past her and walked to the alcohol cabinet. "Care for a drink?" I asked.
"Y-yeah," she replied, sounding flustered.
It was a revelation to discover that I wasn't a man devoid of control over my sexual desires. I had always prided myself on being detached and untamed, but now, everything had changed. I felt a sense of complete surrender, and it was both frustrating and unnerving. Though I refused to admit it openly, the truth remained unaltered, weighing heavily upon me.
I could get blatantly drunk and fuck her till she begs for mercy but then I knew that the aftermath would be unbearable. Confronting my sober reflection in the morning, overwhelmed with guilt and consumed by self-loathing, was a price far too high to pay. It simply wasn't worth sinking to the depths of feeling like the lowest scum to have ever existed. And the simple fact that I feel like this, proved exactly how far that brown-eyed witch had sunk her talons in me.