My phone had been blowing up all day with people expressing similar sentiments. Every new message and call chipped away at my patience, and Kage’s observation was no different.
“Been looking into her, have you?” I asked coolly. Stella’s social media was out there for everyone to see, but the thought of my guys poring over pictures and videos of her sent a surge of irritation through my blood. “Uh, well…” Kage ran a sheepish hand over the back of his neck.“We looked her up during lunch.” Christ. Every employee at Harper Security was ex-military or ex-CIA, yet they gossiped like high schoolers. “She’s hot.” Kage sank into the chair opposite mine. “Somehow, I’m not surprised your girlfriend looks like a goddamned supermodel.
It’s the charmed life of a billionaire CEO,” he added dryly. A dark flame kindled in my chest before I smothered it. “The only thing I’m interested in discussing right now is how we lost the Deacon and Beatrix accounts,” I said coldly. “Not my girlfriend.” The other man instantly sobered. “I dug into it, and it looks like a classic case of price undercutting. Sentinel promised them more for less. Deacon and Beatrix were always stingy bastards. It’s no wonder they jumped ship.” True, but I didn’t want rumors circulating that Harper Security couldn’t hold on to its clients. “You think it’s a big deal?” Kage correctly assessed my silence. “Do we need to get them back?” “No.” Rule number one of surviving in a cutthroat business: never show weakness, not even to one’s own team. “Let me worry about business strategy. You do what you do best.”
“Kick ass and be devastatingly handsome?” “If that’s what you think, you need a new mirror, because it’s lying to you.” “Not all of us can be you, Mr. Pretty Boy, but no woman has ever complained about my looks.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Speaking of, wanna wingman me later?
It’s been a while since we hit the bar together. I know you’re a taken man now, but you can draw in the ladies while I close the deal.” “Can’t.” I stood and adjusted the sleeve of my suit. “Prior engagement.”
“Why am I not surprised? We haven’t gone out together in months.” Kage unfolded himself from his chair. “You ever gonna tell me what these mysterious ‘prior engagements’ are?” I responded with a sardonic stare. “Fine. I can take a hint,” he grumbled. “Have fun with your engagement.”
After Kage left, I tidied my desk to its meticulous pre-work state before I exited the office. Ten minutes later, I was speeding down Connecticut Avenue when my phone rang. I no sooner accepted the call than an annoyed growl filled the interior. “What the hell are you thinking?”
“Hello to you too, Larsen.” I made a smooth turn onto a private, tree-lined road. “It’s a shame you haven’t acquired more manners now that you’re royalty. The palace’s etiquette lessons are severely lacking.” I stopped at the gate and flashed my membership card at the armed guard.
He examined it and nodded. The security scanners took my car’s specs before the gates slid open with a smooth whir. “Funny,” Rhys said flatly. “Clients should pay extra for your sense of humor.” “That’s rich, coming from a guy who has no sense of humor.” My mouth tugged up at his second, even more annoyed growl. Rhys Larsen used to be my top bodyguard until he fell prey to the disease people called love. Now, he was the Prince Consort of Eldorra. Sometimes, I texted him photos of him looking bored and grumpy at various diplomatic functions just to fuck
with him. I didn’t need to say anything for him to get the gist. You’re whipped, and it’s pathetic.
My obsession with Stella might be spiraling out of control, but at least I wasn’t attending ribbon-cutting ceremonies for a charity she liked and planting trees for an Earth Day photo op. “Don’t try to change the subject. What the hell are you doing dating Stella?” Rhys demanded. I parked the car in the private garage and walked toward the entrance. The heavy double doors opened with a wave of my card over the reader. “The same things every man does in a relationship.”
“Cut the vague bullshit, Harper.” A note of warning slipped into his voice. “She’s Bridget’s best friend. If she’s upset, Bridget’s upset. And if Bridget’s upset…” “You’re going to knock me out with your ceremonial crown?” My shoes echoed against the polished floors, where the giant gold V etched into the middle glowed against the surrounding black marble. “Duly noted. Now, I believe you have an event early tomorrow morning. Better get to sleep, Your Highness. You need your beauty rest for the photo ops.” “Fuck you.” “Sadly, while I’m sure you have the women of Eldorra swooning, you’re not my type.” I passed by the restaurant and the entrance to the gentleman’s club before I reached the library. “Give the queen my regards.” I hung up before he could respond. I should’ve known he would get snippy about the Stella situation. He was fully whipped by his wife, and she was protective of Stella. Understandable, but that wasn’t my problem. I hadn’t signed up to be nagged by her friends about my intentions. I opened the doors to the library and found the person I was meeting seated at our usual table by one of the stained-glass windows. Leather-bound books soared three stories to the cathedral ceiling, and the low murmur of conversation interrupted the otherwise reverent hush. There was no stern librarian yelling at patrons for talking, but a thirty-thousand-dollar annual fee granted club members more freedom than in any public space. The library at Valhalla Club was where deals were made and alliances were forged. Every power player in D.C. knew that. “You’re late.” Cool green eyes tracked my progress as I approached the table. A rare eighteenth-century chessboard sat on top of the thick oak next to two empty crystal tumblers and one full decanter of Glenfiddich 40 Year single malt scotch whisky. “That eager to lose?” I removed my jacket and draped it over the back of my chair before I sat, my movements unhurried and deliberate. I rolled my sleeves up and poured myself a glass of scotch. Nothing like a good drink to start off the evening. Alex Volkov pinned me with a wry stare. “We’re tied for wins.” “Not after tonight.”
Alex and I had standing chess matches at the Valhalla Club every month for the past five years.
Our games were always hard fought and harder won.
We rarely interacted outside the hushed confines of Valhalla and the rare occasion when he needed my help with something cyber-related, but our monthly meetings were one of the few social engagements I truly enjoyed. “Your hubris will be your downfall one day, Harper.” Alex filled his glass halfway and raised it to his mouth. “Perhaps,” I agreed. “But not today.” “We’ll see.” Normally, our games were silent with concentration, but Alex surprised me as he moved his pawn to e4. “So, you and Stella.” “Yes.” A non-answer for a non-question. “What are you holding over her?” I paused for a fraction of a second before I countered his move. The Alex Volkov I knew wouldn’t give two shits about anyone else’s personal life. “Asking for your fiancée?” Like Rhys’s wife Bridget, Alex’s fiancée Ava was also best friends with Stella. “Stella has never been interested in a relationship.” Alex ignored my question. “She also didn’t mention a single thing about you or a boyfriend until she posted that photo. Therefore, it stands to