Page 11 of Stolen Sun

The venue is top-notch, just how Claire likes it. It’s one of the many reasons I hired her. I don’t have time to plan events, much less oversee how my secretary spends money. She knows how to set these things up to keep the top spenders happy without going over budget on me, so I let her do her thing. The only instruction I gave her explicitly this year was to seat Noel beside me.

Guests have started to arrive. I order a whiskey on the rocks and make my way around the room, speaking to my clients and meeting their wives or associates. Aside from needing the tax write-off, most people attend this event for networking. Business deals will be made tonight, including my own if all goes as planned.

A longtime client of mine walks toward me with a man I haven’t met.

“Declan, I’d like you to meet Andrew Humphrey. Andrew, Declan Adams.”

I reach out to shake both of their hands. “Thank you for coming.”

“You’re the man putting this on, then? Velocity Logistics, right?” Andrew asks.

“That’s right,” I answer and take a drink.

“I’d like to talk business after dinner if you’ve got time.”

“I’ll find you. You both look a little empty handed. Should I give you directions to the bar?”

They both laugh. “Just getting here, man. We’ll talk later,” Andrew says as they walk toward the open bar to order a drink.

I look around the large room watching it fill with people. This event has grown exactly as I hoped. Put on a black tie event with an open bar and make it invitation only; that’s how you draw in the fuckers at the top. I’ve bided my time, waiting for certain players to gain an interest. This year a couple of my bigger targets will be here. I plan to move on at least one of them this evening.

Three men to my left are locked into a pretty heated discussion when one of them notices something across the room. I follow his line of sight to see it isn’t something but someone. Deciding to watch how this plays out, I watch the man excuse himself from the group to approach Noel.

She’s wearing a tight, mermaid-style dress. The front cuts down in a low V showing off her round, perky tits. Her long brown hair is curled and down. My dick twitches at the way her tits bounce as she walks. She was gorgeous in high school, but now she’s a fucking siren.

Danny Price, a trust fund asshole, makes his way to her. I’m far enough away that I can’t overhear the conversation, so I satisfy myself with watching. She smiles at him politely and extends her hand out to shake his. He bends over to kiss the inside of her wrist instead, and now I want to fucking punch him. She pulls her hand away, and her smile falters. The persistent fucker doesn’t take the hint. Instead, he steps into her to whisper something in her ear.

Zander walks up beside me right as I’m about to walk over to them and asks, “What are we watching?”

I take a drink from my glass and nod my head toward Noel, who is standing her ground with Douche Bag.

He looks over and says, “Fuck, man. Is that yournew flavor?”

“That’s Noel,” I counter.

Zander has never met her or even seen a picture of her, but he knows who she is.

He lets out a low whistle. “It’s time?”

“It’s time,” I say, taking another swig.

Zander was with me the night she got married. He jumped on a plane with me, no questions asked. It took three nights of drinking and fucking my way through Vegas before I wanted to talk about it. Even then, all I told him was her name and that I’d be there to take her when he fucked it up.

What he doesn’t know is that she should’ve been mine a long time ago. That she would’ve never been touched by anyone but me if her fucking dad wasn’t a greedy cunt. His plans are fucked now. I’ve had all the time I needed to make plans of my own. His pocket ace is actually mine now, and so is she.

A server walks in front of us holding a tray with champagne flutes. Grabbing one, I start walking. Before I make it to Noel, she has managed to say something that has Danny backstepping with his palms up. He turns around to continue walking away just as I’m passing by in her direction.

“Hey, man,” he nods in my direction. He’s clenching his jaw, obviously not pleased with being shot down.

Fucker.

When she sees me approaching, she smiles again, but her eyes give her away. They’re bright green, letting me know she is still pissed about whatever he said to her. I hand her the champagneand watch her take a long sip.

When she takes a break from downing the champagne, she says, “You clean up nice, Dec.”

“You are stunning,” I tell her.

She looks up at me with open curiosity. Her nerves from yesterday are gone. We stand perfectly still for a moment, neither of us wanting to look away. When she tilts her head to break eye contact, her hair falls in front of her face.

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