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13

Maddox

Acall from the front desk with news of a visitor is not something I want to deal with after an unexpected night of making love to my wife in the most unusual of ways.

Fuck, the satin sheet, the satin glove, her sucking her pussy juices off the satin, her silk panties, me mouthing her folds and sucking on her clit through the silk, her writhing on the satin sheet, her soft sigh of contentment as she came on my face . . . I can go on and on.

In my pajama bottoms and with my coffee mug in my hand, I saunter to the door, not in a hurry to move this day along. Blaise is still asleep. With what she’s going through with her family, I leave her be.

When Dad cast Gia aside, my little sis slept for days.

At the door, I glance at the monitor mounted on the wall. It’s a wide-angle camera including a back view of any visitors. Wouldn’t want surprises. My dad is on the other side of the door.

I buzz him in, and he barges inside without so much as a polite greeting. Go figure. My dad isn’t into niceties or common decency. That went out the door when he made his first billion years ago. Money changes a man. I have first-hand knowledge. I’m aware of who I was and who I’m becoming. I’m more selfish. More of a prick.

“Why are you here? Couldn’t you have called my secretary?”

“The one I caught you fucking over your desk?”

I smirk. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Or maybe I should have called over to the gym first.”

“The same gym where you caught me fucking the owner over her desk?”

He clenches his jaw. “Keep it in your pants, Maddox. No need sharing your fortune with bastard children.”

“Eloquent, Dad. By the way, those bastard children would be your grandkids.”

He visibly blanches. Chuckling, I drink the rest of my coffee.

“Again, why are you here?”

“Your mother. She heard you married.”

“Is that so? How is she?” I rinse off the mug and stick it in the dishwasher.

The dishwasher is empty. So was the fridge when I went looking for creamer for my coffee. Huh. What has Blaise been eating? Or did she order in? I make a mental note to ask Blaise what she likes and doesn’t like food-wise.

“Exploring all those damn historical old-as-fuck places in Greece. Well, is it true? Or is it more tabloid trash?”

“I did marry.”

“Who? When? Why weren’t we invited?”

By “we,” he’s speaking of him and his latest girlfriend.

“A week ago. Blaise Lexington. And because it was a private affair.”

“The same Blaise Lexington who was left out of her grandfather’s will?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Why would I joke over something as serious as marriage?”

“She’s a strange and sheltered woman. My son deserves better. You need a woman who can navigate social circles with class and sophistication. You need someone like Evie Lawson. She’s the last woman the media has linked you with.”