Page 13 of Tail, Dark and Handsome: Celestial Mates
His tail swayed behind him. “Tomas is a man with so many vices. So many weaknesses. Let’s call it a happy accident.”
“For you.”
“Of course. I am a selfish male,” he said, his tone placid and content. “The opportunity was too good to pass by. Two weeks, Marigold.”
Well, fuck.
If she ever saw Tomas again, she planned to shove him out an airlock. Karma be damned.
Winter
Winter slammed the tablet down on the table. The traitor jumped. His eyes immediately went to the headline emblazoned on the cracked screen that asked, “Like father, like son?” A blurry photo centered on Zero, speaking to Winter. He recognized the location as the symphony they attended the previous night.
“You can’t fire me. You have no cause. Anyone could have taken that picture.” The male folded his arms across his chest. At least he had enough decency to acknowledge the problem.
“What part of confidentiality confused you?”
“That was on a public street. Someone recognized you.”
“Or someone tipped the media off,” Winter growled.
The male paled. Winter never liked the male, but he needed a research assistant and the male’s qualifications were impeccable. He should have listened to his instinct and kept searching. The male had only been with them a week. Winter quickly scanned through the previous week, searching for any gossip a bitter ex-employee could sell. Other than the monotonous details of everyday life onboard the ship, Winter had nothing, but that didn’t mean the male would not fabricate a titillating story.
Winter frowned at the image on the tablet. The shaggy-haired male barely resembled his former self. Once, he had dressed elegantly in bespoke suits and his hair was carefully styled to appear disheveled yet stylish. That male had been the public face of his father’s company, a carefully groomed image with his mate on his arm. Charismatic and talented, she was made for public adoration. They presented the image of the perfect power couple, him with his research bolstering the family fortune and her as one of the most famous musicians in the system.
Appearances were shallow things.
He had not been that male in many years. Thinking about it made his tail curl with mortification.
After his mate’s death, his father did his best to bury videos and witness testimony about that night Rebel disappeared. Thankful Cayne believed his son had something to hide, and Winter was all too eager to go along with it. He lost his taste for public attention and longed to fade into obscurity. Far too many headlines captioned unflattering photos of himself. He knew how the media tore into a person, exposing nerves until nothing else remained.
He had to think of Zero and protect his kit.
Addicted to pain pills?
Winter’s Cold Fury. Get the inside story about his anger issues.
What Happened to Rebel?
Once, he enjoyed the attention. Now it made him itch with discomfort. He did not care what the media said about him, but his kit was off limits. Usually, the non-disclosure agreement that all new staff signed was enough to keep Zero out of the gossip.
“It’s just a photo,” the male said. Winter eyed the nervously twitching tail. Did he believe the malicious gossip and expect Winter to fly into a rage?
“A supply transport will arrive in twenty hours. You will leave with them,” Winter said, voice cold enough to freeze the blood in the male’s veins.
The male reared back as if he would protest, but then his shoulders slumped, his ears going flat in defeat, then left.
Winter examined the image on the cracked tablet. Blurry either deliberately or from a low-quality camera, the image appeared to have a filter applied to darken Zero’s complexion.
Like father, like son?
Winter knew very well that people questioned the stark difference between his and his kit’s markings. Zero’s pale gray complexion and dark gray stripes supported rumors that Zero was not his real son.
When they stood side by side, Winter could see that his complexion was much darker. An entirely different color palette, he had been told.
“I don’t care,” Zero said, standing in the doorway. Dark hair flopped forward, making him appear vulnerable. He lifted his chin in stubborn resolve. “You’re my real father, biologically or not. DNA is not everything.”
Winter tossed the tablet down. The screen gave a pitiful crack.
