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DORIAN

Last night, I slept better than I have in years. Yes, the day had been exhausting and the sex fulfilling. But it was more than that. She’s the missing piece, and my soul isn’t at peace unless she’s near. The thought is hokey and cheesy, but it’s the only explanation I have.

Yes, last night cradled in my arms, she accused me of only wanting what I can’t get.

She did that years ago, too. Shortly after I proposed, a story broke about her stealing a friend’s boyfriend in high school and also in college.

The story implied she was conniving and a woman leveraging relationships for connections and social upward mobility.

I made the mistake of assuming it to be true and asked her about it.

She took off her engagement ring and walked out of the restaurant.

It took me two months to win her back. I had to propose three times before she said yes again.

There was a time when I suspected she might have been right, that I fell hard and fast for the one woman who was willing to walk away.

But it’s deeper than that. When she’s with me, I can breathe.

What I’ve got to figure out is how to ensure that when I’m with her, she can, too.

She types away at her laptop, absorbed in a discussion with her colleagues.

She’s mentally vacated, lost in her world.

This morning when I woke, mindful of her early planned departure, I came down to get her coffee and discovered her cleaned clothes had been delivered and left in the entry. I brought everything to her, she showered, packed, and opened her laptop.

I sent her the list of employees, everyone with access to my father’s office.

She’ll investigate, but it won’t go anywhere.

If these events are coordinated, it’s not being done by someone serving as an employee or advisor.

No, only someone with a narcissistic personality and alpha drive could plan to destabilize the free world, and that personality wouldn’t survive serving others.

Our syndicate was filled with the kinds of personalities that conceivably could play Prophet.

Nick floated that word a few times, implying my father wanted to play that role.

Someone so powerful they could see the future, which of course, in the modern world, means mold the future as one planned.

I don’t believe it’s any of the men in our group.

We all wanted market stability. Were we willing to play in the sandbox with criminal organizations and bend a few rules?

Certainly. But destabilization is directly counter to market stability.

She’s way off. Both on my father’s employees and on the syndicate.

But I’ll let her discover that on her own.

I once treated her as if her job didn’t matter, and I won’t make that mistake again.

This time around, I’m going to support her.

Although, I can’t say that I love that she’s working for the Sullivans.

She may not believe that an investor plays an active role, but if an investor wishes to play an active role, he does.

And I’m not certain those brothers are trustworthy.

I’ll have to touch base with Nick. He’s still searching for the person who put a hit out on him, and like everyone else, I’m sure he still believes it’s conceivable I’m guilty.

But I wonder…what does he think of these Sullivan brothers?

He’s the one who told me to keep Caroline here, to keep her safe. What does he know?

Caroline closes her laptop and announces that it’s time.

Resigned to her departure, I wheel her luggage to the door, leading her to the outside. As if underscoring how much has changed since she arrived, instead of an unseasonably warm fall day, the temperatures shifted with a brutal cold front, and snow covers the leaves from yesterday.

Given it’s cold, I set her luggage in the SUV, opting for warmth over the golf cart experience.

She closes the door as I crank the heat.

There’s a deadness in the air that I can’t shake.

There are no similarities to when she left me last time, yet I feel like I’ve done this before.

Back then, she hailed a yellow taxi, and I watched her drive away from the dining room window and later through the security video.

Back then, it had meant the end of our marriage.

She taps away on her phone as I reverse out of the garage, creating fresh tracks in the freshly fallen snow.

After she leaves, I’ll call Nick. His guys might be better positioned to monitor darker trades, those done through multiple shell accounts to avoid detection.

If it’s an individual, a group, or a country doing this, for certain, they’ve positioned their holdings to benefit.

That’s what we should be searching for. In every downturn, someone benefits.

And you had better believe if the downturn is planned, the planner will benefit.

“How was your father?” The question sounds like small talk meant to fill the silence.

The younger version of myself would have answered fine and left it there. But…I’m not that same person. “He’s the same. I learned something while I was there, actually.”

I could’ve told her last night, but I needed to clear her name, and then she suggested the bedroom and nothing else felt relevant. I loved holding her in my arms as our conversation waned and she slipped into sleep.

“What?” She flips her phone on her lap, screen side down, giving me her full attention, at least until we’re at the gate.

“I’ve got a brother.”

“What?”

I half-laugh at her incredulous expression, a perfect mirror to my reaction.

“Yeah. I mean, he’s like twenty years older. Different mothers, obviously. But I’ve known him my whole life. Dad had him sign an NDA. Can you believe that?”

The guardhouse and gate come into view, and I lighten the pressure on the accelerator to slow her departure.

“Who is it?”

“Geoffrey Cromwell.”

“His financial advisor?”

“The one and only. He knows you. I assume he was at our wedding.”

“He’s the man I saw from the helicopter. He was talking on the phone. I didn’t get a good look at him. Does he look anything like you? Is there a family resemblance?”

“No.” It’s funny she thinks about things like that.

It never crossed my mind. “I assume he looks like his mother.” I refrain from sharing that his mother was a prostitute.

That feels like private, irrelevant information.

“Of course, he’s mostly grey now, in his sixties, so I’m guessing it would be hard to see any family resemblance on either side. ”

“When did you find this out?”

“Yesterday. Dad wasn’t doing well. That’s why I went over.

” That, and because I needed to calm down, but there’s no point in rehashing that.

“Geoffrey was in the room with him. Dad rambled in that way he does. Incoherent thoughts. But he mentioned both his sons being in the same room.” I lift a shoulder—half-shrugging, half-steering the car.

There’s not much to share. “We talked. He said he never said anything because of an NDA.” I release my frustration with a sigh. “Dad loves his NDAs.”

“How’d you take it?”

I come to a stop in front of the guardhouse. A uniformed man I don’t recognize steps outside, and I wave him away, signaling I want more time.

“Did you get angry?”

That’s what she would assume. “I offered to go to dinner with him. Get to know him.”

“But you said you’ve known him for decades.”

“As one of my father’s employees. Not as…” I let it trail. Not as a person. Definitely not as a sibling. “He didn’t seem interested, but then he changed his mind. We’ll go to dinner next week.”

“Wow.”

“Precisely. And now I’m wondering how many children Dad might have.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s possible, right? That he’s got a slew of kids with NDAs threatening trust funds if they speak up? It’s conceivable. In retrospect, it’s surprising he didn’t force me to sign an NDA.”

“No, only your wife.”

She’s bitter. Interesting. She never seemed angry before about the NDA.

Her hand covers the door handle. One foot out the door, so to speak. Understandably. The Moore family has baggage.

“Geoffrey seemed incredulous that I never questioned if a man like my father hadn’t fathered more children. Perhaps I was na?ve. Did you ever suspect?”

“I don’t think…” Her head shakes slightly. “That wouldn’t be a normal thought process.”

“He’s a known philanderer. He said my mother left us, but I assumed she left because he cheated.”

“I’m surprised you’ve never reached out to her.”

Caroline wanted me to reach out to her, probably in the hope I had one parent she could warm to. But the woman left me with him…

“You know, her lawyers probably didn’t stand a chance against his.” That’s a point Caroline has made multiple times.

My mother took a payment for giving up custody. Caroline knows this. It’s immaterial. And it’s an old, long-buried circular disagreement that doesn’t need to be unearthed.

I pop open the custom-fitted compartment in the armored SUV and remove one of our proprietary tracking devices—similar to an Airtag but with military-grade encryption and direct satellite uplink.

“Will you do me a favor?”

She studies the silver disc.

“Will you carry this? It’s like an air tag.”

“You keep a stash in your car?”

“I throw them in bags, just in case someone tries to nab a laptop. It’s… I keep spares in my vehicles.”

“You want to track me?”

“It’s a precaution. Nick said to keep you here. It’s…probably entirely unnecessary. As you said, countries the world over have teams working to prevent a major attack. But if one occurs…”

“If there’s a blackout, you won’t be able to find me.”

“You forget, I control the most sophisticated network of tracking satellites ever built. Our quantum mesh network has redundancies even the Pentagon doesn’t know about.

I’ll find you.” The words come out more possessive than intended, but when you’ve built a reliable global communications infrastructure, it’s hard to be casual about its capabilities.

“All right.” I watch as she tucks the silver disk into her handbag.

“Here’s another one to keep on your person.” Her eyes widen. “It’s too easy to forget to move it from a handbag. Take two. It’ll make you more cognizant.”

She’s thinking about saying no, but I stop that by tugging her to me and covering her lips with mine. She softens and arches closer. I love how her body responds to mine. I always have.

“Next week, can I take you on a date?”

“I might be working a lot.”

“That’s fair. When this dies down, can I take you on a date?”

“Are we really going to do this?”

Those blue eyes swim with unnecessary questions. I will win her back. I’ll earn her love.

“Yes.” I caress the soft curve of her cheek. “Please? I’m not above begging.”

“Okay, then.”

“Excellent.” I’ll get Jay to research restaurants.

She smiles. “I assume you’ll get the crash investigation results…”

She’s right. I need to oversee that. Ensure that we figure out what happened. “I’ll come out to my place in California as soon as I can. Montecito isn’t far from Santa Barbara. I’ll stay there. We can take our time.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’s got a full staff, the best neurologists money can buy. If he continues to decline, I’ll have the entire medical team relocated to California. We’re here because he prefers the mountains, but if he continues to decline, it won’t matter where he is.”

“Dorian, I don’t?—”

“I know. You don’t want a life in politics. Or the limelight.” I smile, remembering how she used to say that phrase over and over, and I chose not to hear her. “I don’t need it. I need you.”

“Dorian…” All of her hesitations come through the one utterance of my name.

“Give me a chance, Cara. We’ll take it slow.” That’s a lie. We won’t. She and I don’t do slow, but if that’s what she needs to hear, I’ll say it. “Letting you walk away was the single biggest mistake of my life.”

“I needed to leave.”

“I know, and I understand. Perhaps I should amend my statement. Making you feel less than or, to use your words, depriving you of oxygen, is my biggest regret. I won’t repeat my mistake. Please. Give me a second chance.”

The backseat passenger of the black Chevrolet SUV parked outside the gate exits and stares directly at our vehicle. He’s wearing reflective sunglasses, black slacks, and a black sweater. I’d peg him as security, but he’s probably an Arrow colleague.

She presses her lips to mine and exits the car. “Call me later.”

“You’ll answer?”

“Always. You’d know that if you ever picked up the phone before.”

A sting right to the chest. I bite back telling her I was advised to leave all communications to our lawyers. After all, it would be a childish lie. She’s my singular case study of refusing legal advice. I refused a lot of things back then.

I exit the car. This time, I won’t sit behind glass and passively watch her leave.