Page 63 of Crown of Thorns
Jean-Luc is as ripped as his two sons, but stands with the ease of a man used to commanding a room. He embodies the effortless entitlement of old money. Gracious, powerful, and completely unbothered by those of us who weren’t raised on private yachts and champagne. I can already feel my collar tighten.
I walk his way, hand outstretched, a professional smile nailed in place. “Jean-Luc. What a day.”
The woman on his arm smiles at me. She’s gorgeous, with intense green eyes and golden hair. I take her offered hand. “Ms. Deveraux. It’s good to see you.”
“Please call me Natalie, Professor Montague. Thank you for all your hard work helping Régis. He was so excited to work with you.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
“And I hear that private classes with Louis are going well, too? He keeps on mentioning you.”
“I’m glad he enjoys them.” My facial features stay cool, but my insides heat.
“He’s not the easiest of students, I imagine,” Natalie laughs.
“He’s great, really.”
Louis and Arthur come join us, both looking smoking hot in their tuxedos. Black and white colours are wrapped around long, thick muscles.
Louis’s arms bulge under the expensive material when he wraps his arms around his dad for a greeting, rippling the material as he snakes his hand around a glass of champagne. He truly is the epitome of a devil; all-consumingly beautiful and dangerous. Dominant. Self-assured. And he’s got me wrapped around his inked finger. He’s in total control, leaving me torn between love and hate. Love, because he’s everything I’ve ever dreamt of. Hate, because I hate myself for that.
Louis beams at me. “Professor Montague, I didn’t know you’d stay for a drink. Here. Take mine.” Handing me his champagne, he gestures to the waiter for another one.
Around me, people continue their conversations, drifting between laughter and business like they’ve done it since birth. Jean-Luc speaks fluent power. Louis slips into these groups like he’s already at the helm. I stand there holding a glass I didn’t ask for, wearing a suit that doesn’t fit this world. And suddenly, I feel like a fraud.
I look around me at the groups of gathered students. Which one of them is a member of the Alpha Fraternarii? Which one of them were there that night, sprawled out onto the floor, fucking?
I down the rest of the champagne in two swallows. The bubbles do nothing to dull the ache pressing behind my eyes. Louis watches me from across the room, brow lifted in that way he does when he knows I’m about to implode. No, damn it, I’m not alright. But I don’t say that. Instead, I come up with a smooth excuse and leave the reception.
Unable to keep the storm of emotions at bay, I head for my office, making sure the door is safely locked. Then I fight the punching bag as if it were my biggest enemy. Rage burns my insides as I punch and kick, faster and faster, craving the way my heart beats harder, the way sweat slicks my hot skin, the way I’m panting as I keep on going. I can’t stop. Can’t beat the fury out of my system. I hate the way Louis is crawling through my defences, hate that no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to stop him. Hate that it makes me remember Dad and that horrible evening when my entire life changed.
There’s no future for us.
There’s nothing for us.
So why doesn’t he find himself another toy? Someone easier. Someone fun. Someone who hasn’t spent years trying to stitch himself back together from the inside out. Why does he keep coming back?
And why do I keep letting him?
Why do I ache for the sound of the door clicking open, for the familiar weight of his body sliding in beside mine?
My phone buzzes, and I don’t have to look to know who it is. The devil himself. Rolling my wet shirt off my hot flesh, I start another round. But no matter how hard I fight, the fight won’t leave my turbulent mind.
Leave. Smack.
Me. Kick.
Alone. Smack.
My phone buzzes again. Taking off the wraps, I stare at my knuckles. They look like I’ve been through a real fight this time. Maybe I have. But my inner chaos won’t be tamed, no matter how hard I try.
So, I pick out a book and light a candle. Sit by the window and just read. About long-gone worlds that leave scientists still puzzled today.
When my eyes start to droop, I realize the time has passed.
Melo texted me. It’s nearly midnight.
Melo: Holy shit, did you check Louis's IG?
