Page 47

Valeria

" I t was Dorian," Zyon chuckled when I told him what happened in his office with his brother.

He told me to wait for him in the gym, and it took him only ten minutes to get out of the bathroom, clean and shiny, dressed in a perfectly fitted, custom-made black three-piece suit with a black button-up shirt and black tie.

This time, the vest was beautified with tiny black roses, giving his outfit a romantic touch.

Or I was just still shocked by his words and couldn't see him differently, just as a dark villain prince from a romance book.

"Are you sure?" I raised a doubtful brow, following him into the elevator. "I would bet it was Malin."

"And you would lose," he replied, taking files from me and leaning against the wall. "Malin would never allow a stranger to touch him."

"What do you mean?" I asked, ignoring the heat spreading from my core just from his overwhelming presence. I had difficulty focusing on my thoughts when his casual existence filled my personal space.

"Malin is extremely picky about the people in his circle," Zyon answered, opening one file and scowling at the numbers. "When it comes to women, he's even more selective. I can count on one hand the girls he’s been with during his life. "

"If only every man were like this," I sighed, suppressing a smile when Zyon lifted his gaze from the paper.

"Women are bitches, too, Valeria," he pointed out, motioning for me to exit the elevator. "Don't throw all the dirt at men and their cocks."

"Men invented infidelity," I lectured, shrugging when he rolled his eyes.

"So, you want to tell me you've never been unfaithful to your husband?

" he fired, and it felt as if he punched me in the gut.

My head spun, but his unsuspecting expression told me he didn't know about my secret affair. "Be honest, Valeria. You’ve never thought about another man? You’ve never imagined being fucked by someone else? "

"That's not infidelity," I objected in a hoarse voice, thinking, when did my mouth get so dry?

"Isn't it?" Zyon held the door to his office for me until I walked inside. The place was empty and creepy, as usual. "You wouldn't expect your husband to be angry and disappointed if he found out about your long night calls or texts with another man?"

Chester would go nuts if he knew something like that was happening under his nose regularly. He would probably burst through the roof if he discovered I had sex with my stalker in our daughter's room while he stood behind the door.

"Of course, he would be angry," I admitted, getting Zyon's point but refusing to acknowledge that fantasies and late-night texts were the same thing. "But imagining another man and actually encouraging him through texts are two different things. Dreaming about someone isn't infidelity."

"In my eyes, it is, Valeria," he said, sitting behind his desk. "Because you're not committed to your relationship if your mind is preoccupied with desiring someone else."

"Don't tell me you’ve never done it." I approached him, standing on the other side and watching him closely. "You’ve never dreamt about someone else while you've been with another?"

"It happened to me once." He leaned into his seat, placing his hands on the armrests.

His eyes were glued to my face as if he found it oddly fascinating.

"I almost threw up from my disgusting behavior.

The woman I craved wasn't the one with me, and it felt like an awful betrayal even when we weren't together. "

"You felt bad because you were ‘ unfaithful’ to the woman you wanted but didn't have?" I asked, confusion filling my chest. I wasn't sure if I understood him correctly.

"Yes, Valeria," he confirmed, his voice dropping an octave and sending delicious shivers up my spine. "I haven’t been with another since that dreadful experience."

"And with her?" I asked in a breathless whisper, unsure why I asked at all. It wasn't my business to question him about his privacy, but my heart claimed otherwise. I needed to know if there was a special person in his life, even when I had no right to request the answer.

"Yes," he replied, his dark eyes piercing my poor soul. That simple word was like a blade that slashed my heart, making it bleed with pain. "She is the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with."

Inhaling a shaky breath, my chin quivered, and my entire body trembled. I didn't understand myself, my reactions, and my confused feelings. This revelation shook the ground under my feet, even when there was no relevant reason for it.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

"Won't you ask who that woman is, Valeria?" Zyon inquired, standing up.

His voice sounded like a devious whisper, but instead of scaring me, it enchanted me. My eyes were glued to his handsome face, which looked so calm and gentle—almost as if he felt sorry for me.

His fingers slowly brushed the surface of the table until they reached my hand, and the tender touch sent my mind spiraling with fantasies about him, the night texts with my stalker, and the hot, unforgettable meetings with the man I fell for.

My heart clenched, and I looked down at Zyon's tattooed fingers, which caressed the back of my hand. The touch was too familiar to be ignored. It was intimate and adoring, making my skin tingle and sing in contentment.

I raised my eyes to meet his, taken aback by the intensity of his gaze.

He was merely a few inches away from me, radiating pure masculinity and dominance that always drew me to him.

I opened my mouth to ask the question he clearly wanted to answer, but the door behind me slammed open with a bang, and I flinched in shock .

"Zyon!"

A cheerful, familiar voice broke the spell between us, and I abruptly turned around.

With his signature smile and hands full of envelopes, Dorian entered the office, dressed in the same clothes he wore when he confused me to the bone. Zyon was right. It wasn't Malin who played with me. It was this mischievous devil.

"You couldn't pick a better moment, right?" Zyon mumbled, walking around me with an annoyed expression. "No one taught you how to knock?” He grunted, taking envelopes from his brother. "And what is this?"

"Invitations for tomorrow's party," Dorian replied excitedly, grinning like the little boy who had just gotten a new toy.

“I assumed the printer wouldn't make it, but they're done.

I'll assign our people to personally deliver them to the guests because our security made it impossible to enter the private celebration without them. "

"Excellent." Zyon shook his head, evidently not sharing his brother's excitement. "Why are you here, then?"

"I wanted to show them to you," Dorian replied, placing the pile on the desk and handing me one black custom-made envelope. "For you, Mrs. Kellerman. I hope to see you tomorrow."

"Thank you." I smiled, opening it and taking out thick black paper with silver engraving. I quickly scanned it, admiring the details, when I found the interesting note on the bottom.

"It's a masquerade ball?" I asked, looking at the two brothers who cast me the same devilish smile.

"We were born on Halloween night, Valeria," Dorian answered, wriggling his eyebrows. "It's only thematic to celebrate in a spooky costume."

"Spooky costume?" I repeated, laughing. "Do you expect me to come dressed like a dark witch?"

"Come dressed like a pumpkin, I don't mind," Dorian beamed, picking up the invitations. "It’s only important that you come."

He pushed half the pile into Zyon's hands, looking at him expectantly .

"We have a meeting in thirty minutes, Zyon," he said when his older brother didn't react. "The one you prompted me to set."

"I know," Zyon said, but his eyes were fixed on me. "Will you honor us with your presence at the party, Valeria?"

"If it doesn't matter what outfit I chose." I smiled, winking at Dorian, who almost bounced on his feet. I couldn't imagine having him at home. It had to cost him a lot of energy to pretend to be Zyon or Malin.

"Just don't come naked." Dorian wriggled his eyebrows mischievously, ignoring his brother's murderous glare. "We are the hosts and want to enjoy the attention."

"Talk about yourself," Zyon groaned as if it was the worst thing that could happen to him.

"Don't worry, brother." Dorian slammed his shoulder, taking the remaining envelopes and opening the door. "There will be a huge poker game in the VIP area. You'll have your fun."

My brows furrowed when he mentioned the game, but then I noticed the venue of the party on the invitation was the Starlight building. It wasn't under my roof, so I didn't care about it.

Dorian rushed Zyon out of the office, mumbling about being late for the meeting. I didn't want to steal their precious time, yet the conversation with Zyon was at the forefront of my mind.

I stared at his back when I followed him through the hall, lost in my thoughts.

My mind was confused and scared to imagine the things that could hurt me.

I deeply cared for my stalker. I was ready to choose him over my husband anytime, despite knowing he was a criminal.

But what was going on between Zyon and me was unexplainable. I had to get to the bottom of it.

"Valeria."

Zyon came to an abrupt halt and swiftly turned around. A few envelopes fell from his hands, but he didn't care. Dorian cast him an irritated look, picking the invitation from the floor while Zyon's eyes bore into mine, his expression telling me he wanted to reveal something .

"Yes?" I breathed, unsure what I wanted to hear.

That he was my stalker? That he repeatedly kidnapped me? That he hid his identity from me because he was bored and wanted to add excitement to his dull life? Or that he was obsessed with me?

Shit!

The entire promenade of questions marched through my mind in a millisecond, but he just watched me.

"I can't," he whispered, barely audible. "Not now. I'm sorry."

The words shot through me like a poisonous arrow. Their meaning hit my heart, spreading quickly like a deadly venom, but instead of killing me, they made me feel alive.

The breath stuck in my throat as the realization settled. There was a huge possibility that he was my stalker. But something blocked him from telling me the truth.

I frowned at the closed glass entrance, watching him get into his luxurious limousine, and Jamal closed the door behind him.

The gnawing feeling in my chest made me aware of the complicated situation I found myself in.

Was my husband and his mysterious benefactor behind Zyon's worries about my safety? But more importantly, was Zyon really my stalker?