Page 44 of Total Abandon

Gritting my teeth, I tear myself away from the dark thoughts that have been torpedoing through my head at every given moment since we visited her parents two weeks ago. She’s done her best toavoid me since then, shutting herself away in her bedroom again at the earliest opportunity. The only time she rewards me with her presence is if my son is in the room. And I’m not above leaning on his obvious delight over her to see her pale, freckled nose scrunch when she lets that tinkling laugh loose. Or the way her face lights up with a smile when he winds his pudgy fingers into hers. Seeing her with Diego is like taking a hit of crack. It’s addictive and I want more. It must be some weird papa bear complex ingrained in my biology.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can get for you? Maybe something…more?” Blondie is gazing up beneath her lashes, eyes bouncing between the two of us.

“I’m married.” Mason’s voice is cool and indifferent, his attention already turned away from her.

“And my fiancée would probably kick your ass if she were here.” My lips tug up into a smirk as I recall the fiery display of jealousy on the plane.

Red blotches appear in the apples of Blondie’s cheeks, and she mutters an apology before scurrying away. Mason and I share a look. We don’t need to say it, we’re both thinking the same thing. We’re good-looking men in our prime, but what really seems to send some women wild is the power we have at our fingertips. It all boils down to them wanting money or status without having to work for it. Not Chloe though, she couldn’t give a fuck how many zeros are on my bank balance. She’ll still cut me to the quick with that sharp tongue and flip me off.

“Bulldog, two o’clock,” Mason grumbles, plucking his refill off the tray of a male server who had been sent over. Presumably, Blondie knew when she was beat. Glancing that way, I see Anthony Sweeney waltzing through the room with none other than Lucinda on his arm. Unfortunately, the smarmy git spots us in the corner and makes a beeline for us. He’s good looking in a slick kind of way, if you’re into that kind of thing. His hazel hair is oiled meticulously back into place and his too-white teeth flash beneath a tan I’ve always suspected is fake as he reaches us.

“Guerra. Walker,” he greets us stiffly, extending his hand my way. I shake it once, dropping it as quickly as possible. He holds the hand out to Mason, who proceeds to crush it with such ferocitythat Sweeney pales under the effort not to react. My lips twitch. Perhaps Mason isn’t as oblivious to his wife’s business dealings with the man as she might like to think.

“Zeke.” The sickly-sweet voice of Lucinda draws my attention to her. She’s standing with her shoulders squared, her fake tits jutting out of her plunging neckline, looking like she believes she’s scored a point by arriving with another man. Little does she know, she could turn up naked with the pope and I wouldn’t give a fuck.

“Lovely to see you, Lucinda,” I reply cordially, declining my head.

“You two know each other?” Sweeney asks when Mason finally stops trying to break his hand.

“Zeke and I are…old friends.” She smirks, lowering her lashes in a good show of affected modesty. It’s funny how someone who once looked like a good time can suddenly be so…unappealing.

“Hmm.” Sweeney’s steel grey eyes bounce between us, his mouth twisted like he’s got a bad taste on his tongue. Lucinda realizes too late that this was the wrong thing to admit, and I almost feel a little bad for her when Sweeney subtly withdraws his arm from her waist.

“That is to say, she joined her father and I for lunch at the Hampton Club a few months ago.” Not strictly true, but I throw her a bone because I’m not a complete asshole. And if ‘joined us for lunch’ actually means pulling me into the powder room to suck my dick? Then yes. Perfectly true.

“Right…” Sweeney trails off, not looking convinced. “How is business, Walker?” He turns his attention back to Mason, who is still gracing him with the full weight of his icy glare. He makes no move to reply, the seconds bleeding into one another before he pointedly takes a silent sip of his scotch. I take another sip of my own drink to hide my smile as Sweeney’s brows knit together. “And you, Guerra? I hear congratulations are in order,” Sweeney growls through clenched teeth, giving up on a response from Mason.

“Yes. I believe you may know her.” Chloe worked for his company, after all, but I wouldn’t put it past this asshole not to know most of his employees.

X-tech is a major contender in the AI space, with their fingers in all sorts of pies. Unfortunately, the company has a reputation for trying to sabotage others' success. Sweeney has been trying to infiltrate our social circle for years, but what he fails to understand is that there is enough money out there for us all to be successful. We help each other out when it’s needed and wouldn’t dream of shitting on another person's business just because. No. Anthony Sweeney has never traded a favor in his life, and that’s why he’ll never be one of us. He opens his mouth to reply, but my attention is drawn away by a soft hand curling around my arm.

Sacha Erikson smiles up at me, her green eyes sparkling prettily—no doubt with memories of our last encounter. “Zeke, come and get a drink with me.”

I hesitate, my polite rebuttal on the tip of my tongue. The only thing that stops me is Sweeney’s raised brow and Lucinda’s scowl at where Sacha’s manicured hand rests on my elbow. I might not want anything from her, but I respect her too much to snub her so publicly.

“Of course.” I dip my head and glance at Mason, who looks like he might murder me for leaving him alone with Anthony Sweeney. As soon as we reach the bar, I gently uncurl her fingers from my arm and offer them a polite squeeze before dropping them. “I’m sure you know by now Sacha, but I’m no longer a single man.”

She laughs softly, flashing me a wry smile as she brushes her hair back over her shoulder. “I’ll admit, I thought it might be part of some master plan. I didn’t thinktheZeke Guerra I knew would ever settle down.”

I suck in a sharp breath and throw back the last of my drink, clicking it down on the marble bar top. If Sacha is thinking that, then so are others. “Guess there is more to me than you realized.”

She twists her lips, casting her gaze around the room as patrons mingle and preen. “Perhaps. I’d like to meet her. The woman who managed to tie you down must really be something.”

“She’s a force of nature.” I speak without thinking, but I mean every word. Sacha’s eyes flash to mine and I’m sure I see a streak of something that looks a whole lot like hurt. “Sacha. I have a lot of respect for you.” She wrinkles her nose into a grimace andlets out a short, sharp laugh. “If you need anything in a business sense, please contact my office and I’ll be happy to help. But as far as you and I?” I pause, offering her an apologetic smile. “I don’t think it’s appropriate that we remain friends.”

It’s not lost on me that I’m permanently burning bridges I might want to cross again at a later date. But Chloe made it clear she expects all outward appearances to be respectful, and this is what a man should do if he’s committed. She deserves that, and that’s what I’ll give her.

“Ouch.” Sacha grins, taking the glass of champagne that has just been slid across the bar toward her. “You’re a good man, Guerra. Don’t fuck this one up, okay?” She offers me a wink and reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek before walking away to rejoin the mingling.

“I’ll try not to,” I grumble, shaking my head as the bartender offers a refill.

Mason is alone by the time I get back to him, talking quietly into his phone. “We’ll meet you there.” He hangs up and turns to me. “Get your wallet out, Guerra. Time for us to make an obscene donation and get the fuck out of here.”

“And where might we be going?” I raise my brow, checking my watch—it’s barely past ten.

“To get our women,” he grumbles.

***