CHAPTER TWO

DAMIEN

"We should take this somewhere more... private." The blonde traced her fingers down my arm, eyes bright with invitation as she licked her bottom lip. "Or not. Whatever you're into."

My lips curved slightly—not a smile, just enough to say, You can't handle what I'm into.

She looked like the type who expected sweet nothings and slow lovemaking. I didn’t do either.

I fucked a certain way—no kissing, no face-to-face contact. Women agreed, then tried to change the rules halfway through. When they did, I stopped and showed them the door.

That’s why I stuck to a set roster. No surprises.

The blonde wouldn’t be making the cut.

"Not tonight," I said, swirling the ice in my glass. "It’s my friend’s farewell party."

She followed my gaze to Josh, who lounged on the couch, soaking up female attention. While I put people on edge, he put them at ease. He thrived on company, and judging by the three women fawning over him, he hadn’t changed.

"He can join too," she teased, pressing closer.

"Same," her brunette friend added. "Lyss and I do everything together."

The implication was clear, but I was already bored. Nothing turned me off faster than desperation, which reeked stronger than their perfume.

Without a word, I scanned the room for something—anything—more interesting.

If this weren’t for Josh, I wouldn’t have bothered coming. Between my role as COO at The Archer Group and my other work, my plate was full.

Josh was one of the few people I could tolerate for more than an hour, and he was leaving Monday for a year of medical volunteering in Central America. So here I was, pretending I wanted to be at this party.

A silvery laugh rang out. Mia.

Of course.

Josh’s little sister was so sweet and sunshiney, I half-expected flowers to bloom at her feet and woodland creatures to follow her around. She stood with her friends, eyes bright as she laughed at something they said.

Was it real or fake? Most people were frauds, slapping on masks to get what they wanted. Smiling at enemies, laughing at bad jokes, sucking up to people they despised.

I wasn’t judging—I had my own masks. But unlike them, I had zero interest in ass-kissing or small talk.

Knowing Mia, though? Her laugh was real.

Poor girl. The world would chew her up outside Thayer’s bubble.

Not my problem.

"Yo." Josh appeared beside me, grinning. His usual entourage had moved on, now grinding to Beyoncé while guys drooled. My gender needed higher standards.

"Thanks for coming, man. Sorry I haven’t said hi—I’ve been…busy."

I eyed the lipstick print on his mouth. "I saw. You’ve got something on your face."

He smirked. "Badge of honor. Speaking of which, I’m not interrupting, am I?"

I glanced at the blonde and brunette, now making out after failing to hold my attention.

"No."

Josh grabbed a beer. "A hundred bucks says you won’t last a year in Bumfuck, Nowhere. No women, no parties. You’ll be back by Halloween."

"Oh, ye of little faith. There’ll be women, and the party’s wherever I am." He took a sip. "Actually, I wanted to talk about that. Me being gone."

"If you got us friendship bracelets, I’m leaving."

"Fuck you." He laughed. "No, this is about Mia."

My glass paused midair before I took a slow sip, whiskey burning down my throat.

"What about her?"

Josh and Mia were close, even if they bickered enough to make me want to duct tape their mouths.

I wouldn’t know what that kind of sibling bond felt like.

The whiskey turned sour in my mouth. I set my glass down.

"I’m worried about her," Josh admitted, rubbing his jaw.

"I know Mia can take care of herself—unless she’s getting stranded in the middle of nowhere. Thanks for picking her up, by the way—but she’s never been on her own this long, and she’s a little too… trusting."

I saw where this was going, and I didn’t like it.

"She has her friends." I nodded toward them. One, a redhead in a gold skirt, chose that moment to jump on a table and twerk.

Josh snorted. "Jules? Liability. Stella’s as trusting as Mia. Bridget has security, but she’s not always around."

"Thayer’s safe. Crime rate’s near zero."

"Still, I’d feel better if someone I trusted looked out for her."

Fuck. The train was going off a cliff.

"I wouldn’t ask, but she broke up with her ex, and he’s been harassing her. I always knew he was a little shit, but she wouldn’t listen. Just keep an eye on her? Make sure she doesn’t get killed or kidnapped? I’d owe you big."

"You already owe me for all the times I saved your ass."

Josh grinned. "You had fun. So, yes?"

I looked at Mia. She was twenty-two, four years younger than us, but somehow both older and younger than her age.

She carried herself like she’d seen the good, the bad, and the ugly—but still believed in goodness. Admirable. Stupid.

She must've felt my stare because she glanced over, cheeks tinting pink.

She’d changed into a purple dress, but my mind flashed back to the car ride—her damp shirt clinging to her, red lace peeking through. I had meant it when I said she wasn’t my type, but I’d enjoyed the view.

For a second, I imagined lifting that shirt, tugging her bra aside with my teeth—

I yanked myself out of the thought fast. What the fuck? That was Josh’s sister. Innocent, doe-eyed, too sweet for her own good.

The opposite of the jaded women I preferred—ones who knew better than to expect more from me. Mia was nothing but feelings, wrapped in sass.

A smirk ghosted my lips as I recalled her parting shot earlier. I hope that stick in your ass punctures a vital organ.

More aggressive than I’d expected from her. I liked that I could rile her up.

"Damien," Josh prompted.

I forced my eyes away from Mia. "I'm not much of a babysitter."

"Good thing she’s not a baby," he shot back. "Look, I know it’s a big ask, but you’re the only person I trust not to, you know—"

"Fuck her?"

Josh grimaced like he’d swallowed a lemon. "Jesus, dude. Don’t use that word about my sister. But yeah. We both know she’s not your type, and even if she was, you wouldn’t go there."

A flicker of guilt hit me, remembering my earlier thoughts. I needed to call someone from my roster—fast.

"But it’s more than that," Josh went on. "You’re the only one I trust, period. And with this thing with her ex…" His face darkened. "If I ever see that fucker—"

I sighed. "I’ll take care of her. Don’t worry."

I was going to regret this. But I didn’t make promises lightly, and when I did, I kept them.

That meant Mia was under my protection now.

A familiar dread coiled around my neck, squeezing tight.

Blood. Everywhere.

On my hands, my clothes. Soaking into the cream rug she’d loved—the one from her last trip to Europe.

I should clean it. Scrub the fibers, erase every trace. But I couldn’t move.

I blinked, and the memories vanished, leaving only the lingering weight of them.

Josh clapped my shoulder, grinning now that I’d agreed. "You’re the best. I owe you—coffee, chocolate, whatever’s good down there. And a favor. A big one."

I forced a smile. My phone rang, and I lifted a finger. "One sec."

Josh barely noticed, already occupied with the blonde and brunette who’d moved on to him.

By the time I stepped into the backyard to answer, their hands were under his shirt.

"Дядько," I greeted, using the Ukrainian word for uncle.

"Damien." His voice rasped, rough from years of cigarettes and life. "Hope I’m not interrupting."

"No." I glanced through the glass door at the party inside. Josh had lived in that two-story house off Thayer’s campus since undergrad.

Josh and I had roomed together until I graduated and moved to D.C.—closer to my office and far from the drunken college chaos that flooded campus every night.

His farewell party had drawn half of Hazelburg, Maryland. Josh was a town favorite, and people would miss his parties as much as they’d miss him.

For someone always "drowning" in schoolwork, he had plenty of time for drinking and sex. Not that it hurt his GPA—he had a perfect 4.0.

"Did you take care of the problem?" my uncle asked. A drawer opened, then the click of a lighter.

I’d told him to quit smoking countless times. He never listened. Old habits die hard, and Ivan Carter had reached the age where he didn’t care.

"Not yet." Moonlight cut through the darkness, streaks of silver against black. Light and shadow—two halves of the same coin. "We’re close."

To justice. Vengeance. Salvation.

For sixteen years, those three things had consumed me. My every thought, dream, and nightmare. My reason for living.

Even when distracted—by corporate maneuvering, by a woman’s body—they lurked, driving me toward ambition and ruthlessness.

Sixteen years was nothing. I played the long game. And when the man who destroyed my family fell, it would be worth it.

"Good." My uncle coughed, and my lips tightened.

One day, I’d make him quit. Sentimentality had been beaten out of me long ago, but Ivan was my only family.

He’d raised me, stood by me, and fueled my path to revenge. I owed him.

"Soon, your family will be at peace," he said.

Maybe. Whether I would be...that was another matter.

"There’s a board meeting next week," I said, shifting topics. "I’ll be in town for the day."

My uncle was the official CEO of Archer Group, the real estate company he’d founded a decade ago—with my guidance.

Even as a teenager, I’d had a knack for business..

Archer Group was headquartered in Philadelphia, but with offices nationwide, its real power center was in D.C., where I was based. Board meetings still took place at HQ, but I controlled the company from afar.

I could’ve taken over as CEO years ago—our agreement allowed it—but staying COO gave me more flexibility until I finished what I had to do. Besides, everyone knew the truth: Ivan sat on the throne, but I was the one pulling the strings. My strategies had propelled Archer Group into the Fortune 500 within a decade.

After discussing business a bit longer, I hung up and rejoined the party. My mind churned through the night’s developments—Josh’s request, my uncle’s nudge about my revenge plan. Somehow, I had to balance both over the next year.

I ran through different scenarios, testing outcomes, identifying weak points, until I reached a decision.

"Everything good?" Josh called from the couch, where the blonde kissed his neck while the brunette’s hands explored below his belt.

"Yeah." Annoyed, my eyes drifted to Mia again. In the kitchen, she fussed over a half-eaten cake, her tanned skin glistening from dancing, dark hair framing her face in soft waves.

"About your request," I said. "I have an idea."