DAMIAN
Vera
“Impressive place, Mister Scott.” I kept my voice even, though my eyes drank in every inch of the penthouse as he led me into the open-plan living room. Calling it impressive was underselling it. This was billionaire territory, and Alistair wore it like a second skin.
“My friends Robbie and Angie Somersby designed my home. They’re the best architects in the city.” Alistair toyed with one of my fallen curls as I nodded. “Their boy, Jacob, goes to the same school as my son, Damian. He visits from time to time when Damian’s with me, and I think he’s a good influence, a church kid, you know.”
“They sound nice,” I said, staring at the high ceiling, bespoke chandeliers, and a spiral staircase connecting the living room to the upstairs floor, where I assumed the bedrooms were.
“It’s a pity Robbie and Angie plan to leave Lester Harbor someday. They’ve just finished a project for me in Dubai. Wait until you see my penthouse apartment there.” Alistair clinched my waist in a tight embrace, planting an endearing kiss on my cheek.
“Dubai…wow.” I adjusted his collar and allowed the gentle roughness of his unshaven jaw to rub my face. “Do you have a swimming pool?” I asked. If he owned a pool, it would have cost an arm and a leg. Or maybe a kidney.
He scoffed. “Sweetheart, I own the top floors of this building. I’m on the committee for the entire building. Would you like to see my rooftop swimming pool?”
“I don’t think I’ll stay,” I replied, annoyed at how the rich took life for granted. I grew up in an average home featuring frayed and faded mismatched furniture. He grew up in the spoils of pristine perfection. His upbringing defined who he was.
He had everything he wanted… the best education, a career given to him on a platinum platter, people who pandered to his demands, and beautiful women. On the other hand, I worked my ass off and appreciated every accomplishment I earned. My sudden jealousy surprised me. I rarely gave a shit about the rich and famous, but Alistair exposed me to his world, and he affected me. Things were getting personal.
“Don’t go,” Alistair pleaded. His jungle-green eyes darkened as he tightened his grip on my right wrist and rubbed it in circular, sensual motions.
“Alistair, I don’t know…”
“I need you.”
“No, you don’t.” My words said one thing, but my body betrayed me, allowing him to inhale my hair’s floral fragrance.
Bending his head, Alistair lowered his passion-glazed eyes as his lips brushed against mine. He deepened the heat, tasting every drop of me, while his erection pressed into my lower belly. His natural scent, blended with his spicy cologne, ensnared me, seducing every inch of my body. “I want to fuck you,” he whispered. “Take you right now.”
“God, I want your dick,” I moaned, caressing the outline of his bulge.
“So, will you stay the night?” Alistair’s warm breath blew against the nape of my neck.
“Mister Scott,” I teased, unzipping his pants. “Will you show me your bedroom?”
Two a.m.
“Alistair?”
“Mmm?”
“There’s someone at the door.”
“What? Shit, Vera, you must be dreaming. There’s no one at the door.”
“Yes, the doorbell just rang.” I shook Alistair’s arm gently to wake him up fully. I started to panic, wondering if a man like Alistair was in any danger or connected with the mafia. It was no secret that Lester Harbor’s mafia had ties with wealthy citizens and politicians and drove a lucrative underground drug and prostitution ring.
The doorbell chimed again, forcing Alistair out of bed. “I’ll see who it is,” he grumbled, shuffling to his walk-in wardrobe to put on a shirt and sweatpants.
“Shouldn’t you call security?” I asked, getting out of bed.
“Here, you can put these on.” Alistair handed me a T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.
“Alistair, can you answer my question?” I stared at him, donning the shirt and shorts.
“No, I don’t need to call security. They run a tight ship, and I’ve got a panic room for worst-case scenarios.”
I ran my fingers through my unkempt hair, then crossed my arms.
“Vera, if anyone is allowed to get past security, it would be my son. That’s who I’m worried about.” Alistair’s eyebrows furrowed, deepening the lines of concern on his forehead. He stalked down the stairs and pressed the screen on the intercom.
“Hello? Dad?” a fragmented voice called out, matching the lanky frame of a boy on the screen.
“Come in, son.” Alistair tapped the screen, triggering the front door to unlock.
Dressed in a dark hoodie and cargo pants, the boy, about ten or eleven years old, sprinted into the living room, hugged his father, then pulled back his hood, revealing blond curls and green eyes.
“Dad,” the boy cried, burying his face in Alistair’s chest.
“Where’s your mother?” Alistair asked, holding his son tightly.
“She’s high, Dad. She’s high as a kite.”
“Again?” Alistair released his son, his face red with fury and his voice shaking. “What happened, Damian?”
“She’s got her lovers at home again. One of the women came into my room and crawled into my bed, Dad. She was naked.”
“Where was your mother?”
“You don’t want to know. I caught a cab here,” the boy replied as he glanced at his father.
Oh, my God. What kind of mother was this woman? I folded my arms and shook my head in disbelief.
“Dad, who is she?” Damian turned toward me, eyes filled with curiosity.
“I’m Vera Richland.” I extended my hand to shake the boy’s hand.
“I’m Damian Scott,” he said, shaking my hand.
“Vera, can you excuse my son and me for a few minutes?” Alistair asked as his face softened.
“Sure, I can leave.”
“Wait, you said your last name is Richland, right?” Damian took one step towards me.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“I know a guy with the same last name. Richland. Yeah, Julian Richland. Hmm, you have the same eyes as him,” Damian said, staring at me.
“Oh?” I raised both eyebrows.
Damian tilted his head. “Do you know him?”
“I… uh, that’s my brother’s name,” I managed, rubbing my trembling fingers together.
“Mom pays him. She pays for lays.” The boy smirked, showing too much knowledge for his age.
Alistair warned, “Damian, that’s enough…”
“Julian went home early tonight,” Damian continued, ignoring his father. “Your brother has kind eyes, dark like yours. That’s why you remind me of him. He taught me to play Uno once…”
“Stop it, son,” Alistair ordered. He flushed, and his fists clenched as a muscle twitched in his cheek.
Air rushed from my body as if a vacuum sucked the life out of me. My legs shook, and my hands trembled with shock. Think, Vera. Think. Stay calm, Vera. The boy needs stability now. I masked my shock with a serene smile. “Damian, I’m sorry you’ve had a rough night. I’m also sorry we met under these circumstances.”
“Naw, it’s alright. I’m used to it. I hate living with my mother.”
“Would you like me to get you something to drink?” I asked, remembering the breathing technique my therapist taught me to deal with anxiety.
“Yes, please, Vera,” Alistair cut in. “I’ll talk to you when I’m done with Damian.”
One hour later
How can it be?
Alistair’s ex-wife, Saira Quinn, was a ruthless barracuda who came from old money, according to news reports. When she and Alistair married, two of Lester Harbor’s most powerful families… the Quinns and the Scotts… became one. If their union sounded like royalty, they were. They were sovereigns in business and politics with connections to key political leaders. And, she was shady. Rumors about her dealings with the mafia floated above the surface. It wasn’t hard to find information on social media. I was processing it all when I heard footsteps entering the master bedroom.
“Vera, would you like some coffee?” Alistair called from the doorway. He walked toward me with two porcelain mugs in his hands.
“How is Damian?” I asked, taking my coffee from him. It was still the early hours of the morning, but my night was already ruined, and I was wide awake.
“He’s asleep.”
“Did you know?” I asked.
“Huh?” he replied. His lack of an honest answer infuriated me.
“Did you know your ex-wife pays my brother for sex?”
“Please, sit down and let me explain.”
I sat on the white leather sofa and stared at the city lights through the glass window. Alistair placed his mug on the coffee table and began rubbing my shoulders, but I flicked his fingers away. The last thing I needed was affection.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you.”
“You knew all along.” I turned to Alistair and stared at his ashen, unshaven face. “And yet, you devised an elaborate plan and feigned ignorance to get me to sleep with you.”
“Vera…”
“Was this your sick and twisted way of getting back at your ex-wife? By sleeping with her lover’s sister?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it, Alistair? Because none of this makes sense.” I crossed my arms, pinning him with a look. “You know what bothers me most? Your son. That kid’s been through enough. He’s got a mother dragging him into things he shouldn’t see, and a father who’s never around.”
Standing up from the sofa, I narrowed my eyes at Alistair. “Damian deserves so much more than this.”
“I never intended to hurt you. I care about you.” Alistair stood up, attempting to touch my arm.
“I’m going home,” I declared, taking off his clothes and putting on my dress.
“Vera, please…” Alistair’s voice faltered, and his eyes were wounded.
“You need to get your priorities straight,” I snapped as I unlocked my phone. “I’m ordering a cab.”
Right then, a crack of lightning blinded the sky, followed by the deafening sound of thunder. Watching the rain blur the cold glass window, I felt an uneasy sensation. I needed to leave. The game was over.
ONBOARD ARTEMIS
Vera
My phone buzzed for the fourth time that morning. Alistair’s name lit up the screen again. His last message hovered
Come on, sweetheart. One drink. You can yell at me in person if you want.
I’d ignored the rest.
Miss me yet? Still alive?
You ghosting me for good, or just keeping me hungry?
Each one made me smile, roll my eyes, and stare a little too long before locking the phone again.
But here I was anyway, perched in a deck chair on his yacht, the sea glittering all around us, the kind of blue that made the world feel surreal. The air smelled like salt, sunscreen, and money. I told myself I was only here for the ocean.
Alistair leaned back, sunglasses catching the sun. “Glad you joined me on my boat today,” he said, like he knew he’d worn me down.
“You’ve got some nerve, calling my boss just to track me down.” I leveled him with a stare. “He handed me his phone and stood there, waiting like I owed him an explanation. He reminded me you were a ‘good friend’ and a valuable client, so I shouldn’t piss you off.”
Alistair removed his gold-framed Ray-Ban Aviator sunglasses and set them on the table, finally letting me see his green eyes. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. That wasn’t my intention.”
I arched a brow. “You think calling my boss was subtle?”
He almost smiled but caught himself. “You weren’t answering. I had to get through somehow.”
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “So you put me on the spot in front of half the office? Classy move.”
His jaw flexed. “I needed a chance to talk to you, Vera.”
“Well, here I am. Only because Brenton ordered me onto your damn boat. He’d have skinned me alive if I said no.”
He let out a breath. “I know. And I hate that it came to this, but I need you to hear me out.”
I fixed him with a look. “Then talk. After this, I owe you nothing. Tell me, what’s going on between my brother and your ex-wife?”
Alistair’s lips curled into a playful smile. “You know, you’re the first lawyer I’ve ever slept with.”
I didn’t blink. “You planning to plead the Fifth, or answer my question?
“Always straight to cross-examination with you. God, I love a woman who doesn’t let up.”
“And I love a real man, but I haven’t found him yet. Cut the bullshit and be honest.”
His eyes softened. He reached for my hand, and for once, he didn’t try to charm his way out. “Alright. I’ll be straight with you about my ex-wife.”
“Go on.”
He let out a breath. “I’m spending more time with my son now. Saira and I are locked in a custody fight. Doesn’t matter what she’s done. Her lawyers are good at spinning a story, making her look like the perfect mother. She’s got connections everywhere. Even the police.”
His forehead creased as his mouth tightened. “This city’s rotten, Vera. I gave up on playing the hero a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry.” I squeezed his hand, feeling the edge of my frustration slip away, just a little.
“Don’t be.” Alistair’s fingers lifted my chin. “I’ll tell you a few things you may not want to hear.”
“I can handle it.”
“The moment Julian ends things with her, she’ll come after you. Saira hates being rejected. She tears families apart, leaving nothing behind. Don’t be fooled by her appearance. She looks like a porcelain doll, but she’s dangerous.”
“How does she treat people, Scotty?”
“Before our divorce, I visited one of her establishments. Her sex workers were abused and mistreated. A few contracted sexually transmitted infections that aren’t curable. They were bold enough to ask me for help.”
“Oh, shit.” I sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled.
“Exactly. After buying her share, I revamped the club and gave payouts to those who were infected. I couldn’t have them working for me because they’d put others at risk. Think of clients with wives, partners, and families.”
“The business. Is that The Church?”
“Bingo. I suspect Saira paid officials to look the other way while she conducted her illicit activities. Things are different under my management these days. My employees have health insurance and fair wages.”
“What does this have to do with my brother?”
“Saira still runs an illegal sex ring for wealthy clients. She hires prostitutes, both men and women, and provides drugs to entertain her clients at secret soirées.”
“Oh.” I suddenly felt sick. Julian.
“Julian is one of Saira’s favorites, but he’s risking his life and yours. He’s playing a dangerous game.”
“Alistair, I don’t feel so well.”
“I’m sorry, love.”
My brows knitted together. “Julian did this to pay off our college fees.”
“Vera, I’m sorry. Do you and Julian have remaining debts I can help you with?”
“You’ll have to ask him.”
“Would you like me to talk to your brother and my ex-wife to see if I can mediate and keep you and your family out of danger?”
“Y-y-yes,” I whispered, clutching my stomach. I stood up but stumbled, only to have a pair of strong, muscular arms catch my body to keep me from falling.
“Stay with me today.” Alistair’s green eyes met mine, more vulnerable than I’d ever seen.
I didn’t answer. My arms stayed crossed, fingers digging into my elbows. My foot tapped against the deck, impatience radiating from every inch of me. He’d forced this meeting, and I didn’t want to make it easy.
He reached for my hand. I pulled back, letting his touch fall short. Silence stretched between us, tight as a wire.
He tried again, this time letting the backs of his fingers brush lightly down my arm. I stiffened but didn’t move away, caught between the urge to bolt and the ache to lean in.
As he spoke about Saira, the threats, and the custody fight, my anger started to cool, replaced by something heavier. Worry pressed in. The playboy routine had dropped, leaving only a man fighting for his son.
By the end, I let him take my hand. His palm was warm and steady. I held on, just enough to let him know I was still there.
Lunch was a slow negotiation. Alistair slid a plate of oysters my way and raised an eyebrow, daring me. “They’re good luck, you know.”
I hesitated. “Only if you believe in luck.”
He grinned. “I prefer to make my own.” He poured wine, his knuckles grazing mine, and I didn’t pull away.
As I nibbled on salad, my questions started to spill out, more out of habit than trust. “So. Saira. Is she as toxic as the rumors say?”
He paused, glass halfway to his lips. “Worse.” He swirled the wine, studying me. “She can charm a judge or ruin a man with the same smile.”
“And business?” I pressed. “You always this legitimate, or do you also have underground connections?”
His mouth twisted, equal parts pride and regret. “Let’s just say I’ve paid my way out of more messes than I care to admit. The city’s rotten, but I’m learning to stay clean.” He shrugged. “For my son, mostly.”
I didn’t know what to say, so he filled the silence with a slow, knowing smile.
“Want to see the rest of the yacht?”
“Sure.” I grinned back. “I’ve never been on a super yacht.”
He guided me through cabin after cabin, his voice low and smooth as he pointed out the craftsmanship… hand-polished wood, silk-lined walls, details so precise they felt unreal. There was a pool. An actual onboard cinema. Each turn blurred the line between excess and fantasy.
He stopped at a set of sliding doors and pushed them open. A suite sprawled before me, all sunlight and ocean framed by floor-to-ceiling glass. Gold brass fixtures caught the light. A king-sized bed waited with rose petals and fresh towels. Across the room, a hidden bar gleamed with champagne that probably cost more than my rent.
I kept my face neutral, but my pulse jumped every time his arm grazed mine.
He opened the terrace door, and the scent of saltwater hit me. The railing curved just high enough to keep the cautious out, low enough for the daring to dive straight into the deep.
Alistair stepped in beside me, close enough that his shoulder brushed mine. “Ever swim in open water?”
“Is that a dare?” I shot back, arching a brow.
He stripped his shirt, grinning, and dove in. I followed, shrieking as the cold swallowed me up. The shock was electric… salt on my lips, sunlight flashing as I surfaced. He reached for me in the water, steadying me as laughter bubbled up from my chest. Back on deck, he wrapped a thick towel around me, rubbing warmth into my shivering arms. His skin smelled like salt and sun. I found myself studying a scar near his eagle tattoo and traced it, curiosity getting the better of me.
He caught my wrist, his voice lower now. “Bad business. It’s over.”
We lay side by side on the sun-warmed deck, bodies just barely touching. Every glance lingered a little too long. My skin tingled, nerves awake and hungry for more.
Alistair threw me a half-smile. “Do you like my boat? It’s called Artemis. It suits you, don’t you think?”
I let my gaze sweep over the deck, then laughed low. “You call this a boat?”
His eyes lit up like fireworks as he grinned. Underneath all the swagger, there was something honest about him. He was beautifully flawed, and I was falling for him.
“Scotty, thank you for being real with me today.” My voice softened as I slid a hand under the strap of my damp bikini top, peeling it off and tossing it aside. The green sequins glittered in the low light, a not-so-subtle gift I’d found wrapped on his nightstand earlier.
He traced slow circles at the small of my back, the heat of his palm steady and sure. “I care about you,” he murmured, fingers trailing over my bare skin. I let the air fill my lungs, the ocean’s salt mixing with his scent.
I hooked my thumbs in the bikini strings at my hips and let the bottoms fall to the floor. I straightened, meeting his gaze without a hint of apology. He took in every inch of me… my curves, my scars, the stretch marks along my thighs and hips, the way my breasts shifted when I moved. I let him look.
His stare lingered on the soft, dark hair between my legs, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “Beautiful. All of you.”
He shed his swim shorts, his thick cock rising.
The tabloids painted Alistair Scott as a man who only chased perfection, flawless skin, airbrushed curves, and a surgeon’s signature in every line. But the Alistair standing in front of me was nothing like the headlines. He became easily aroused at the sight of a woman with natural imperfections that exercise couldn’t erase. His erection twitched as his green eyes sparkled underneath his long, dark lashes.
“You’re attractive in every way,” he complimented. He rubbed his chin, eyes locked on mine. “Vera, can I take you up the ass?”
I grinned, wrapping my fingers around his cock. “Only if you came prepared.”
His eyes lit up, all eagerness and heat. “Always. Want to freshen up first?”
I nodded, letting my mouth twist with a playful promise. “Give me five minutes.”
