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Before I can think, my hand flies in the air, flagging down our waitress.

“Yes, can I get you something?—”

“A double shot of tequila. On the rocks.”

Tittering from across the table stops the waitress in her tracks. “Oh, Adonis. It’s barely noon. Too early for hard liquor. We’ll take a Bordeaux instead. A cabernet, if you have it.”

Pain shoots to my temple from the force of my back teeth grinding together. But I don’t say anything.

I never do.

Swiss boarding school for thirteen years.

Exceptional at every piano recital.

First place in every indoor and outdoor track event I participated in.

My French is shit, but they let that slide because at least I can keep up in German.

Graduated from their alma mater at the top of my class. For my bachelor’sandmaster’s degrees.

I did everything they told me to do.

Before I ever set foot in undergrad, they’d spent over a million dollars on my education.

I wasn’t their son, I was their favorite trophy. A living, breathing reminder of their excellence reflected at them.

A title I didn’t mind most days because trophies were left on a shelf and seldom bothered. It meant I got to do what the fuck I wanted.

But sometimes…sometimes I had to clock in and put in face time with the people who were responsible for my existence.

The Samson name comes with a responsibility I can’t shake. My sole purpose is tied up in who my father is and what he promised The Society before he and my mother extended their bloodline.

This upcoming marriage is my duty to The Society. To solidify an alliance that had been in the making before my birth. My parents promised their first-born son would marry the last-born daughter of the Dupree family.

I never had to sacrifice anything to The Society because my whole existence was predicated on what I would do once I reached thirty-five.

I hadn’t wanted anything in a long time. Hadn’tfeltanything.

There were no wild oats to sow. No playboy phase for me to work through because I’d always only been focused on me.

Until Delilah.

I liked my solitude. My peace. The order I was able to maintain by moving through life alone.

Sex wasn’t a craving that plagued me. Ever. I’d only been with two women in my life. And it was only for the release. Never the connection. I hated connections.

But in the back of my mind, I always knew there was an expiration date attached to that freedom.

Until Delilah.

She’s disrupted everything and I can’t even say I don’t like it. She’s chaotic. Overwhelming. I like that. I shouldn’t, but I’m loath to do anything but admit it.

When I tune in again, my parents are talking about the object of my obsession.

“It’s sad what happened to the girl. Having her mother leave like that. Marcellus was a single father for all those years.” An elegant hand waves in the air. “Of course, it doesn’t excuse the way he mismanaged his funds. But still, the stress. So unfortunate…” she trails, leaving the rest unsaid.

Another word doesn’t leave my lips until my first glass of wine is drained.