Adrian (Filthy Rich Alphas)

That night, I found no slumber or relief from my anxiety.

A solution lay in front of me. It was clear what I could do, but I damn sure didn’t want to. Fear grappled with my feelings for him. I could no longer deny that I loved Adrian. To say any different would be to lie to myself.

I loved him.

And the only thing that stopped our union was Adrian’s father—an aging billionaire who couldn’t even deal with his son falling in love.

When daylight hit, I called my mom.

“Are you still talking to the Ford boy?” she asked.

I grimaced. “He’s not a boy, Mom.”

“Relax. At my age, they’re all boys to me.”

“I need some advice.”

She chuckled. “So you’re desperate?”

“Maybe. I’ll just let you decide.” I told her what I’d been thinking about, a decision that could change everything for Adrian, her, and me. When I finished, she remained silent. “What do you think, Mom?”

“I think it’s time for you to control your own destiny.”

“Is that a yes to my idea or not?”

“I’m putting the ball in your court, Carmen. This is your life. Your destiny. Your heart. Gain control and you can guide your path all by yourself. I think you’ve spent a lot of years being reactive, instead of proactive. You allowed men to lead you into situations without stopping to think. Take control. That’s what I think.”

“Take control?”

“Yes. If you want Adrian then take him, but not on his or Nick’s terms. This is your destiny. Only you should be controlling it.”

Anxiety sat deep in my gut. “You’re right.”

Okay. I’m going to take control.

Chapter 12

Signature

Two months later

Adrian

Carmen stood at the podium, holding her book, Of Winds and Leaves, the fantasy novel that I’d inspired with my cock. She hated when I said that. And I loved that it made her mad.

It’s been too long. More than six months of separation and still she has no idea that I’m here. I can’t even touch her.

She flipped the page and read: “Slowly with each heartwarming event, a plan unwound in Rak's head like a very long ribbon created with beautiful threads.”

Carmen’s fans sat on the edge of their seats, elbows in their laps and gazes targeting her.

“Rak yearned for something more than a daughter,” Carmen said. “One as captivating as they were, but a female being he didn't raise. A creature he could touch without burning, just like with his daughters, but do so much more. Someone to love in the same way the human men savored their women.”

I kept my hat lowered onto my head and the big jacket zipped up.

When I’d first walked into the bookstore with the whole get-up on, the store’s owner joked, “Are you on a secret spy mission?”

Annoyance had laced my word. “What?”

“Maybe if you take off the sunglasses inside, you’ll look less like you’re hiding the fact that you’re here.” She’d gestured to them.

“Maybe, you’re right.” I’d taken them off and placed them into my jacket. “I’m not really trained to do missions in a book store. That’s next week’s lesson at the military base.”

She’d saluted. “Gotcha.”

The bookstore was huge—tall bookshelves, polished wood, and gold letters that labeled each genre’s section. An old woman made coffee. Two others handed out tiny cakes. On the left, cashiers stood at their counters with a stack of Carmen’s older releases.

I stayed at the back of the audience, making sure to keep my head as low as possible.

Carmen had begged me to come. Yet, Dad still hadn’t let up. He’d gone through three women since breaking up with Carmen. Three fiancées who each drained him a little more. He’d sunken into a pit of unhappiness and focused all of his attention on Carmen and me again, shocked that I’d still be in love with her after all this time.

Dad had asked one day when visiting my condo. “What do you see in Carmen that I don’t?”

“I see everything.”

He frowned. “You still don’t talk to her?”

“Of course not. I don’t want you to hurt her.”

“And I will, son. I will.”

“Goodnight, Dad.” I’d gotten up from my couch and led him to the door.

“Don’t you contact her.”

“I won’t.” I opened the door.

“I’ll ruin her.”

“I know you will. You’re pretty good at destroying women.”

Our gazes met. These months of separation had aged him. More wrinkles than ever decorated his weary face. His hands shook as he buttoned up his coat. The few times he’d come over to visit, he’d needed help getting up and sitting down.

The fast life had weakened him. He was only fifty. If he’d still been with Mom, I could’ve imagined him fit and young looking. She was a vegan who loved tennis and hiking.

She was love, and he’d ruined it until nothing else existed but darkness.

I wouldn’t be my father.

“Take care of yourself, Dad. I love you.” I’d closed the door behind him and hoped that better days would come.