Twisted (Never After #4)(58)

“Come for me, gattina,” he rasps.

And I do, my body exploding, wave after wave of euphoria spreading through every single part of me as I come harder than I ever have before, my legs shaking around the metal of the shower nozzle.

Slowly, my soul comes back to my body, and as it does, the regret starts to wind its way around my neck and squeeze, disgust hitting me full force in the gut.

I just got off to thoughts of my husband. Again.

And I liked it.

I am absolutely not in control.





Chapter 24





Julian





Usually I’m not easily distracted. I’ve spent the hardest years of my life staying laser focused on my goals, which is why I’ve made it to where I am and why I’ve stayed on top.

I’ve built my reputation and turned Sultans from just another company into the empire it is today by being cold, aloof, and stubborn, and I have no interest in changing my ways.

But for the first time in my life, my mind wanders, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t control it or drag it back to what I should be focusing on.

I’m sitting in a conference room, a dozen suits trying to gain my attention and keep me up-to- date on the latest batch of rough diamonds from Kimberley, South Africa, and I’m busy wondering what my little wife is at home doing and if I should take her with me to Egypt.

She might jump at the chance to see the boy, though I don’t know if that will endear me to her or push her away. Or she might be too worried to leave the country with her father so ill, afraid that she’ll miss his final moments.

To be honest, I’m not sure he’ll let her be around for them either way.

By the time the meeting ends, I couldn’t tell you a single fucking thing that went on during it, and I head straight to my office to check emails and leave for the day.

There isn’t anything new, so I pull up the email from Jeannie that I received and press Reply.

Jeannie,

I’d like an update on the new dig site and also on why you didn’t make me aware of Darryn Anders sniffing around.

Have it to me by the end of the day.

— J. Faraci

Shutting down my computer screen, I pick up my phone instead, realizing that I haven’t heard from Ian in far too long to be comfortable and I’m putting an end to it now. He also hasn’t given me an update on anything that I’ve asked from him.

“Boss,” Ian’s voice chirps over the line.

I sit in my office chair, leaning back and running a hand through my hair. “You sound chipper.”

“Chipper? I sound bored.”

“How’s the boy?”

I’m not sure why I ask him that first instead of asking about any developments with the lamp. Truth be told, I really don’t care how he is; he could be rotting at the bottom of the Red Sea and I wouldn’t blink twice. But having him alive and well is still paramount to ensuring Yasmin continues being agreeable. My stomach cramps at the thought of having to blackmail her to keep her at my side, but I don’t let the feeling linger.

“Aidan is fine.”

“On a first-name basis?” I ask.

“What, did you expect me to sit here and call him ‘the boy’ to his face?” he guffaws. “You know, I think we underestimated how much he despised working for the Karam family. He doesn’t think very highly of Ali. Spends half his time talking to Jeannie—who, by the way, keeps disappearing and not letting anyone go with her— and then the other half of his time on the phone with his mom. And I’m doing okay too, thanks for asking, Julian. But it’s fucking hot here. I swear to God, I’m practically melting. And we have five different archaeologists sitting around the compound, getting lazy and leaving dishes everywhere. You need to put people in line.”

My lips twitch. “You’re so dramatic, Ian.” I laugh. “Things will all work out. I’ll be there in a week and handle everything. We’ll make sure everyone knows their place.”

“I…you’re coming here yourself?”

“Did I stutter?” I reply. “I need you to set up a meeting with Darryn Anders for me. Can I trust you to handle that?”

“I can do that.” He pauses and then says, “I heard you married the bitch. Were you planning to tell me?”

“Watch your mouth,” I demand, something hot and sharp serrating through my chest.

The other end of the line is deadly silent.

Shaking it off, I purse my lips, annoyed at my outburst. “That’s my wife. I can’t allow you to disrespect her.”

“But she’s— ”

“The plan hasn’t changed,” I interrupt. “Set up the meeting. And wait. You’ve been extremely disappointing lately. Don’t let it happen again.”

I press End, tossing the phone down in irritation before grabbing my jacket off the coatrack and walking out of the room to go home.

“Ciara,” I call out right before I head to the elevators.

She perks her head up from where she’s focused on her computer.

“I’ll be out of town next week. Adjust my calendar accordingly. I’ll need you to take notes at any meetings for me. Is that something you can handle?”

Her spine stiffens, determination filling her gaze as she nods.