Page 1 of Sunrise

Chapter 1

Knox

I fell in love when I was fifteen. My first kiss, first taste, first touch, sent me down a rabbit hole I’ve never climbed out of. Addicted from the start, as is my nature, I guess. But like most addictions, love is fucking tragic. Take my advice and stick to romance in books. It might still hurt, but you move on quickly to the next best thing. Love in real life is brutal.

I don’t come to the Monarch Club often because my addiction would eat me alive in a place like this. The rush, the scents, the sounds, the forbidden… what a fucking drug. From the texture of the curtains to the water pressure in the shower, to the variety of buzzing toys and intentionally soft lighting in each themed room, this place was built for mind-blowing pleasure. Ryker nailed it as far as aesthetics, and with Dmitri and Vault running security, there’s no safer place to explore your desires.

I hate it here.

And yet… I can’t stay away on nights like this.

Strolling down the main hall, I head for the security center first. Pushing the door open instead of knocking, I’m smacked by Vault’s signature fragrance when I enter. Blood rushes to my dick when I suck in a lung full of the good stuff. He’s not here and yet he’severywhere.

Like a fucking ghost.

Servers light up against the wall behind his desk and with the air conditioning on full blast to keep the equipment cool, it’s both frigid and loud. His trashcan is overflowing with empty energy drink cans and candy wrappers. All six of his monitors automatically switch feeds every few seconds. It’s like channel surfing porn, only no video plays long enough to get off to.

I sit in his chair and stifle a groan. Running my fingers over his well-worn keyboard, I stroke the touchpad with my middle finger and mess with the video feed, shuffling from room to room in case I find him in one of them.

Watching Vault fuck is a special brand of torture for me.

And when he’s with Sophie? No words can describe the beautiful agony my heart suffers.

There’s a stack of papers on the right side of the desk, and because I’m a nosy shit, I dig through it for no good reason other than simple curiosity. I always wonder what keeps him busy here. What makes him stay for days on end?

What has captured his attention better than I ever could?

Sadly, these are just membership applications, which means he’s running standard background checks. Woop-dee-doo.

What’s in the drawers? Any guesses?

The larger one is filled with files on blacklisted members. Shocker. The other drawer has candy, hand sanitizer, lube, and tissues, along with a small, gift-wrapped box. The egotistical part of me wonders if thegift is for me. It is, after all, my birthday this weekend.

Aw, he shouldn’t have.

It rattles when I shake it. Sounds like heavy jewelry. I turn it over, inspecting the pristine wrap job, and my heart lurches into my throat when I see Vault’s painstakingly neat block handwriting on the underside.

To My Sunrise

I drop the box back in the drawer and slam it shut.

No way. Nope. Nu uh. Impossible.

I open the drawer again and double check because I must be hallucinating. Maybe all this computer equipment in the room has got my brains cells glitching.

To My Sunrise

He… holy fuck. How long has it been since he called me that?

My hands shake when I scrub my face in a poor attempt to keep my emotions at bay. Christ, I can’t believe I’m acting like this over a simple box. It’s like everything I’ve locked up behind the furthest door in my heart kicks and kicks and kicks, just like always, but that name…in his handwriting… it pops the lock on that iron door.

Don’t do this. Don’t get your hopes up again. You know what happens when you do.

I refuse to let myself fall for it.

The door swings open and I look up, feeling guilty and stupid for getting caught snooping.

Dmitri arches his brow and frowns. “What the fuck are you doing in here?”

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