Part 2 – The Present
Five Years Later
The gold embossed lettering on tonight’s benefit dinner invitation glistens in the light, the name of Clifton Emerson’s latest hotel taunting me. The Calypso. A soft huff escapes my lips as I hand the invite over at the entrance of the ballroom, unsure what I’m even doing here.
I rarely agree to attend any of these bullshit events — the only ones I tolerate are the ones my family host, and even those are a fucking waste of time. Every cent spent on these events should be donated, yet the donations won’t come without this ruckus. Most of the people here wouldn’t dream of contributing to anything but their own wealth if there wasn’t anyone to see them do it. It’s a charade, and it’s one I want no part of — yet here I am.
My eyes roam over the crowd as a hint of unease creeps up my spine, The Herald’s latest headline reverberating through my mind with each step I take.
“Mr. Windsor!”
I glance over to find one of my business associates walking toward me, and I groan silently. Yet another reason I avoid these events — they always make me feel like I’m surrounded by fucking vultures desperate for the mere chance to dig their claws into me. I smile politely, resigned to my fate, only to freeze at the sight of a similar silhouette.
My entire body freezes as everything else fades away until she’s all I can see. She turns around, and my stomach clenches in a way it hasn’t in years. Fuck. It’s almost as though time stills, like every part of my body is trying to delay the inevitable, even as I seek her out.
Celeste.
I warned her to stay the fuck out of my sight, and for years, she obeyed my command. For both her sake and mine, I’d hoped I wouldn’t find her here tonight… yet there she is, standing right next to Clifton Emerson. She looks at him like he’s all she can see, and that smile. That smile is the one that used to be mine. Only mine. Seeing her is like a punch to the gut, and I exhale shakily, rooted into place.
She’s still every bit as beautiful. No — she’s even more beautiful than she was in my memories. The way that long golden dress shimmers and clings to her curves is sinful, and though I try, I can’t tear my eyes off her.
Celeste Harrison engaged to Clifton Emerson, The Herald’s latest article read. I hadn’t believed it, thought it was a baseless rumor despite the accompanying pictures. Fuck, I’m still unwilling to accept the truth, even as I stand here, watching that diamond sparkle around her finger.
Celeste frowns, and for a moment I’m convinced she must feel my gaze on her, because she lifts her head and searches the crowd. Her lips part in shock when our eyes meet, her arm slipping out of Clifton’s. We both stand rooted in place, lost in each other’s gaze, until she bites down on her lip and takes a step back, breaking the spell she had me under.
Celeste turns and flees the room, and I follow her, refusing to let her get away. My heart begins to race as she disappears around the corner, her heels clicking against the marble floors, leaving an echoing trail for me to follow. I smile humorlessly when I find her pressed up against the wall, the shock in her eyes mixed with deep-rooted hatred.
“Zane,” she whispers, and fuck, hearing my name on her lips still fucking enthralls me. It doesn’t sound the way it used to. Even in high school, she never said my name with quite this much hatred, yet I love hearing it all the same.
“You know better than to run from me,” I murmur as I take a leisurely step toward her, my eyes roaming over her body. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, betraying how much my presence affects her. Celeste’s eyes widen when I rest my forearms on either side of her head, caging her in against the wall.
Her hand moves to my chest, and for a moment, I’m certain she’ll push me away, but instead, she merely rests her palm over my heart, the way she used to. I clench my jaw and step closer to her until my body is pressed against hers. “I warned you, Celeste. Did you forget?”
She inhales sharply, and it takes all of me not to brush my lips against hers and steal her breath entirely. Five years, and she still captivates me the way she always has. It just makes me hate her more.
“You don’t scare me, Zane,” she whispers, the tremor in her voice contrasting with her words. “You won’t hurt me. If you were going to, you’d have done it already.”
I clench my jaw and move a hand into her hair, loving the feel of her thick curly hair. I fist my hand and grip tightly, my touch a silent warning. “I’m not the man you left behind, Celeste. Don’t provoke me.”
She exhales shakily and tips her head back to shoot me a look that blows straight past my defenses. “What if I do?” she asks, a wobbly smile dancing on her lips. She slowly drags her palm down. “What if I provoke you?”
My abs tense underneath her hand, and something flashes in her eyes — a hint of victory. “What do you think you’re doing, Celeste?” I ask, my voice coming out far more strained than I’d intended.
I groan when her fingers brush against my rock-hard cock, and she smirks. She’s fucking insane. “Just reminding you of what you lost. It’s why you keep attacking Harrison Developments, isn’t it? Because even after all these years, you can’t let go. How does it feel to know that I moved on? I’m happier with Clifton than I ever was with you, Zane. No amount of damage you do to my company will change that.”
Her words cut deep, and she fucking knows it. She’s aiming to kill, and fuck if I didn’t hand her the goddamn gun. I push my body against hers harder, trapping her hand between our bodies. The breath rushes from her lungs, and for a moment, there’s a hint of trepidation in her gaze. “I’ll make you regret appearing in front of me,” I warn, grabbing her hair to bring her face closer.
Celeste tilts her head as much as she can, bridging the remaining distance between us. “Do your worst,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against mine with every word. She knows exactly what she’s doing, how weak it makes me when she whispers against my lips like that.
“I showed you mercy once, Celeste. Never again,” I tell her, before sucking her bottom lip in between my teeth and biting down, wanting to hurt her and finding myself entirely incapable of it. I don’t know what I was thinking, assuming I could go near her without wanting her.
Celeste whimpers, and I tighten my grip on her hair before I take what should’ve belonged to me. I kiss her hard, devouring her, reminding her of what it was like to be mine, not giving a fuck that she’s wearing someone else’s ring. Her nails scrape over my scalp as she kisses me back, her body moving against mine with an equal amount of anger, hatred sizzling between us even as she locks her hands behind my neck.
I push my leg between her thighs and force her lips open, loving the way she still gives in so easily. Her tongue tangles with mine as I push my favorite peppermint candy into her mouth, and she takes it the way she used to, curling her tongue around it. Fuck. I still fucking love it when she does that, and something about it is so fucking maddening. It fucking infuriates me.
I tear my lips off her, both of us panting, the air instantly becoming charged with regret. I hadn’t meant to kiss her, and the look in her eyes tells me she hadn’t meant to kiss me back. “Walk down that aisle toward him, and it’s the last you’ll see of him,” I threaten, my voice low, heavy with something I can’t quite define. It isn’t regret, nor is it longing. It’s something right in between. “You don’t get to be happy, Celeste. Not after what you did to me.”
