Chapter 13: A need

Everette’s pov

The glass cup shatters against the wall where I threw it.

"Tell me it's not true, Dad!" I roar, my voice trembling with a terrifying blend of fury and betrayal as I glare at my father.

I’m practically hyperventilating. I haven’t even processed Jacque leaving me yet, now all that is in my mind is the sickening memory of Frank Calderman sliding his hotel room key and whispering his room number while caressing my knee.

I couldn't believe it at first, but then my father's earlier words echoed in my head with…...

*You two have a lot in common*

And the l truth landed like a physical blow. Theodore Carrington didn't send me to close a tech integration deal; he deliberately sent his openly gay son to serve as eye candy for a predatory billionaire, knowing exactly what the man expected in return.

I felled for his words again.

My father doesn't even flinch at the sound of breaking glass, leaning back comfortably in his armchair without a single flicker of remorse in his eyes.

Serena snaps her head back and forth between the two of us, "What is he talking about, Dad? Eve, what happened?"

"Ask him!" I spit out, pointing an accusing finger at the man who raised us. "Tell her how you pimped me out just to secure a piece of oil land!"

"Oh, stop being so dramatic, Everette!" Theodore snaps back, slamming his hand onto the desk. "I knew Frank Calderman had certain... preferences, and since you share those same inclinations, I assumed it would make the transaction run far more smoothly than usual. It's called leveraging your assets for the good of the family dynasty."

"And what specific inclination is that, Dad? Hmmmmm," I challenge, my jaw clenched so tight my teeth ache as I step right up to his desk. "You can’t even say the word can you? Say it. Say the word 'gay', Dad. It isn't poison, or are you still too much of a coward to speak it aloud?"

I see a muscle tick in his neck, the only crack in his facade. "I don't know why you are getting so bent out of shape over standard business networking," he snarls, waving a dismissive hand. “Isn't that what people with that kind of taste do anyway? You move around in those same circles. I see absolutely nothing wrong with using what you’re already doing at our disposal."

"Dad! That is completely insane!" Serena yells, as she steps between us, glaring at our father with absolute disgust. "That’s a sick thing to say. What’s wrong with you?”

"What's actually wrong here is your brother fucking up a multi-billion-dollar acquisition simply because his fragile pride got hurt!" Theodore growls, standing up to loom over the desk.

Pride.

The word echoes inside my head, burning through my chest as I watch the man I spent my entire life trying to impress, trying to become cold and formidable for, just so he might finally see me as a worthy heir. Deep down, I always knew he never truly forgave me for being gay, but I foolishly held onto the desperate, pathetic hope that my corporate success had finally earned his respect. This whole ordeal is my brutal answer: to Theodore Carrington, I will never be a partner, an executive, or a son. I’m just a disgrace he will rather hide or pull out if it’s beneficial to him.

Without another word, I turn on my heel and march out of the office, ignoring Serena's desperate cries of "Eve, wait!" as the doors slam shut behind me, followed immediately by the muffled sound of her screaming at our father.

I run up the stairs not stopping till I’m inside my room, heading straight for the crystal decanter on my bar cart to pour three consecutive shots of whiskey, drowning them instantly to stop the violent shaking in my hands. The alcohol burns my throat, but it isn't enough to numb the agonizing noise in my head.

It’s times like this I wish I still do cocaine.

I stop pacing, my eyes drifting toward my phone on the counter, knowing with certainty that I could call a dealer right now and have a bag of cocaine delivered to the estate within twenty minutes.

"No, no, no," I whisper aloud, gripping the edge of the counter as sweat breaks out on the back of my neck.

I start pacing across the room again, running my hands through my fiery orange hair while fighting off the craving with every ounce of willpower I have left. I can't go down that self-destructive path again. I fought too hard to get sober after the last time and I refuse to let Theodore push me back into the dark.

I drown another glass of whiskey, staring blankly at the wall while my mind loops through the endless cycle of my father's psychological games. This is what Theodore always does. He always has a hidden motive in everything he does. Doesn’t care who he climbs over on his quest for power, even his own family.

When I first came out in my late teens, every single boyfriend I tried dating mysteriously stopped talking to me or vanished after a few weeks, leaving me brokenhearted until I eventually discovered that my father had paid them off or threatened their families to get them out of my life. In fact, the only man who ever stood his ground, spat in Theodore's face, and refused to be bought off even when we were only friends, was Raze—which was precisely why I had fallen so madly in love with him in the first place.

God I miss him.

He always knows what to do or say at a time like this.

I freeze mid-step, the glass pausing inches from my lips.

Raze is right down the hall.

Maybe it's the liquor in me or it's the sheer, suffocating weight of my sudden isolation, but an overpowering urge to talk to him hits me right in the chest. I miss our late-night debates, I miss the brilliant way his sharp mind dissects through my chaotic thoughts, and God help me, I just miss him period. He is the only person in this nightmare of a world who truly understands the twisted mechanics of the Carrington family and how it feels to survive them.

Abandoning my glass, I pull open my bedroom door and make a beeline down toward his guest suite. I stand outside his door for a brief second, my heart hammering before I knock. When no answer comes, I tell myself he's probably sleeping or maybe not here, but the overwhelming need for comfort pushes me to reach out and turn the heavy brass handle, and push the door open.

I freeze as my vision takes in the scene unfolding on the king-sized bed in front of me.

Raze is sprawled out near the center of the mattress, entirely naked, his muscular shoulders and broad chest glistening under the low ambient light as he aggressively fucks two women at the same time.

One girl is straddling his waist, her back arched as he repeatedly rams his big, silver-pierced shaft deep into her wet center, her slick moisture dripping down his thick length while she lets out filthy, breathless moans that echo off the walls. The second woman is kneeling beside him, her lips on one of his pierced nipples, while she rides his finger. The air in the room is heavy with the scent of sex, and loud sounds of pleasure.

Before I can snap out of my trance, Raze reaches up with his free hand, gripping the riding girl firmly by her waist to pull her down hard onto his dick, thrusting upward with a grunt that makes her throw her head back in pleasure. As he maintains that punishing pace, his hand moves to the back of her neck, pulling her down to his chest, his blue eyes lifting towards the doorway and locking directly onto mine.

A slow grin spreads across his handsome face, as he increases his pace, the girl on top of him screaming his name as her body starts shaking.

Panicking, I stumble backward into the hallway closing the door and pressing my back against it as my chest heaves. My heart is racing at a dangerous speed, my hands are trembling, and beneath my trousers, my cock is throbbing, hopelessly hard.

So very hard.