It was ten at night, and I was in my home office adjacent to the library. Since Isobel and Elena weren't here and my other two women were gallivanting somewhere else for the time being, I was left to my own devices for the very first time, which I wasn't accustomed to.
For two hours, I'd been fighting the urge to see what Elena and Isobel were up to. But each time I felt like going, I would argue with myself that Isobel was entitled to have a little enjoyment since she'd lacked that ever since she had moved in with me.
The woman took precedence in my mind, and no matter how much I tried to diminish my want for her by occupying my time with the others, it only made the hunger worsen. Therefore, I was left with no choice other than to come to terms with this—that this wouldn't go away until I found a solution. I hadn't had one until the woman herself had thrown a challenging look at me; one that would make any man who was consumed by wanting to possess something... a little crazy. I hadn't felt this way since I was in my early teens. She exhilarated me in a way that got me more fixated to prove her wrong.
She had admitted that her body responded to me, but she had chosen to ignore it. Because of Damen. Knowing the fact she was in love with another man didn't bother me an inch because I wasn't after her heart. This connection I had with her was primal and all about sex. Nothing more, nothing less.
My thoughts halted when my shrilling phone interrupted. Taking the phone out of my pocket, I took the call. "Bonsoir, Père." (Good evening, Father.)
"Julee just called to invite me to lunch with her tomorrow."
"Maybe it's time to bury the hatchet? She is Maman's sister." Mother's been dead for over fifteen years now and still those two never got along. Neither one ever, as I recalled, had nice things to say to each other. They were always bickering.
It started when Julee was against my mother marrying him because she deemed him unworthy of her. She went out of her way to make that known by playing tricks on him, however my father was a determined man and kept pursuing my mother until the day she died. My father loved her more than anything, and when she had died during her ski trip with Julee and their friends, my father hadn't been the same since. Though he had moved on and dated, even remarried a couple of times, his heart had stayed true to my mother.
"You know I never liked her, but it was because of your mother that I tolerated her." He sounded exasperated, as if talking about Julee was draining all of his energy away. "She also mentioned a woman named Isobel. I'm assuming she's your new lover to pass the time by?"
Isobel was hardly a lover, let alone mine. Perhaps soon that would change. "Get to the point."
"You know it's unwise."
Like I would ever forget. It was impossible to. He made sure of it. "Sherry and Chantel are very much in the picture. They're simply taking a break, vacationing in their chosen destination. This hiatus is merely temporary."
"Thank God," he grumbled loudly, relieved that whatever my Aunt Julee was speculating was merely that, a speculation. "I'm glad this is nothing serious, but pay heed, my son. Never make the same mistake again."
Every single time, like I would ever forget it. I wished things were different, but this was apparently our fate. One mistake was all it took before it became a domino effect for everyone. Even when I was indirectly involved, I, too, bore the brunt of his punishment.
"Why are we paying for sins that were made a decade ago? Isn't it enough that we've suffered and paid for the consequences?" It angered me to even think about it. I had attempted to end it, although the price that had come along with my ingenuousness had been high. It had taught me a lesson—that sometimes making a sacrifice was easier than putting other people's lives in danger. I would never make that same mistake again.
"Every day, I'm grateful that your mother wasn't alive to witness any of it."
"So am I," I made the same sentiment. "Well, I'm bidding you goodnight and try to play nice with Julee. Francois did just divorce her."
"Julee... a delicate divorcee." He made a sardonic laugh. "Goodnight, son."
"Dormez bien, Père." (Sleep well.)
After hanging up on my father, my cell phone immediately buzzed to life again. This time it was Benoît. "Oui."
"Monsieur, I apologize to interrupt your night, but I lost sight of mademoiselle Elena and mademoiselle Isobel. The club is unexpectedly packed."
It was summer, of course it was. Then again, given Benoît's age and my less inclined desire to go to clubs, this most likely came as a shock to him. The issue I'd been contemplating had just been provided with an answer.
"I'm on my way," I said after he gave me the location. Heading back towards Monaco, I recalled the moment when I was on my way upstairs from the living room after my short talk with Julee when I caught sight of Isobel in a scantily clad black dress; if one could even consider it as such. The scrap of cloth had hugged her slender form, leaving little imagination to any man who desired her. Even when we had gone out to the auction, she had been dressed accordingly, thus seeing her transformation had bothered me greatly. So much so that I had remained still, hidden from their view, and waited until they both had left to go party.
I could only account my shock to the fact she was young, and for some odd reason, this essential tidbit had escaped me each time I had seen her. Isobel was already beautiful, yet tonight, the word didn't suffice.
Once I arrived and entered the club, Benoît was there to greet me at the entrance, seeming out of place. "Go home. I'll take it from here." He tried to argue with my decision, but I was persistent for him to get some rest.
After he left, I immediately scanned the place as the music roared in my ears. For ten minutes, I scoured for them, however the place was too dark and the ever- changing, techni-colored laser lights made it harder to focus.
After another fifteen minutes, with still no sign of them, I was about to take my leave when something caught my eye. It was Elena. She was on the second floor, in the VIP section, dancing on top of the table... and Isobel was doing exactly the same thing.
I froze, watching her for a moment, when I felt all common sense leave my body before something else took precedence.