Chapter 2 After the Encounter
Richard: POV
I stared at the five crisp hundred-dollar bills on the nightstand, my blood boiling.
The fucking audacity.
After everything that happened last night—her drugging, me saving her ass, her practically assaulting me—Camellia Frost had the nerve to leave money like I was some cheap gigolo.
My hangover pounded against my skull as I snatched up my phone and fired off a message:
[What the hell was that? I help you, you basically assault me, then leave $500 like I'm some gigolo? Is this how the 'Data Queen' handles her business?]
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Then her reply hit like a slap:
[Don't worry, I won't ask you to take responsibility. I felt bad after sleeping with you, you know. If you don't want the money, you can return it to me.]
I typed a blistering response, deleted half the profanities, then sent:
[You better keep your word. And make sure you've taken contraceptives. Don't come looking for me if you end up pregnant.]
Her comeback was instantaneous:
[Rest assured, I'll remember. I'm the last person who wants to carry your child. Besides, your bedroom skills are pretty mediocre.]
I gripped my phone so hard I nearly crushed it.
For a split second, I considered calling her just to verbally tear her apart.
But what was the point?
I tossed the phone onto the bed.
"I don't need to argue with some fucking ice queen," I muttered.
"Is she even a real woman? She's more aggressive than most men I know. Just forget it, Richard. Chalk it up as a terrible experience."
My personal phone rang—the one only friends and family had the number to.
Nathan Sinclair's name flashed on the screen.
"Where the hell did you disappear to last night?" Nathan's voice carried the easy confidence of old money.
"One minute you were downing scotch at the bar, the next you vanished."
"Why didn't you call me last night?" I snapped, my frustration boiling over.
"If you'd called, maybe... Forget it. It was a disaster. I shouldn't have drunk so much."
There was a pause.
"Are you still upset about Claire? I heard she's got a boyfriend in Europe now."
I sighed, feeling a dull ache at the mention of her name.
"It's not that. I mean, sure, it stings a bit. But I want her to be happy."
I ran a hand through my hair.
"Just—the stray cat I helped turned around yesterday and scratched me. No good deed goes unpunished."
"Strays are usually wild," Nathan replied carefully.
"Skittish, hard to approach."
I knew he was fishing for details, but I wasn't ready to explain that I'd been overpowered and fucked by Silicon Valley's most ruthless CEO.
"I need to head home. Grandfather's expecting me." I said.
The Bloom family estate stretched across prime real estate on Long Island's North Shore.
The neo-classical mansion with modern additions had been home for generations of Blooms.
I pulled my charcoal Porsche through the gates, parking beside the fountain.
Jenkins, our longtime butler, met me at the door.
"Your grandfather has been waiting, sir. He's in the study."
I nodded, passing through hallways decorated with photographs documenting my family's military and business achievements.
The subtle theme of national service wasn't lost on me—Grandfather made sure of that when he recruited me to Homeland Security.
William Bloom sat behind his mahogany desk, steel-gray eyes narrowing as I entered.
"Where were you gallivanting last night?" he demanded without preamble.
"Never home anymore. You need a wife to straighten you out."
I dropped into the leather chair across from him.
"Good morning to you too, Grandfather."
"The problem is," he continued as if I hadn't spoken, "I don't see any woman in New York capable of managing you.”
“And what woman would feel secure with you? You look like a playboy through and through."
"Grandfather, don't worry about it," I said lightly.
"I have no plans to date anyone right now."
His expression softened slightly.
"I know you pretend not to care, but you're a good kid. Loyal to a fault. You need to move past the Claire situation."
I tensed.
"I have moved past it."
"I should come clean," he said unexpectedly.
"I didn't approve of your relationship with Claire back then. I... have offered her ten million to leave you."
My knuckles went white.
"You did what?"
"If she truly loved you, she wouldn't have left without discussing it with you," he continued, unfazed by my anger.
"Now she's dating someone abroad. You should move on."
I unclenched my jaw with effort.
"I don't blame you, Grandfather. I've already moved on."
The lie tasted bitter.
William's eyes brightened suddenly.
"I remembered that Camellia Frost is quite impressive.“
"I was good friends with her maternal grandfather."
"Did you know we arranged a childhood betrothal between you two? You played together as children and got along splendidly."
I blinked in shock.
"What betrothal?"
"It fell through—her grandfather wanted to respect the children's feelings," he waved dismissively.
"Poor girl had it rough. Her father's affair drove her mother to depression and death. Then he immediately brought his mistress home, along with a girl about Camellia's age."
My grandfather lowered his voice conspiratorially.
"Rumors say he was cheating long before and the girl might be his biological daughter."
"Camellia was so upset she left home after college, taking her brother with her. Used her inheritance to start that little tech company of hers."
His eyes gleamed with admiration.
"She has guided the company to unprecedented success through steady, strategic growth. Her journey has been one of triumph over adversity."
Before I could process this bombshell, my sister Victoria swept in, elegant as always in her designer outfit.
"If Richard could land Camellia Frost, I'd be impressed," she declared.
"Though I doubt she'd give our little playboy the time of day."
I scoffed.
"That harpy? Who dares to marry her?"
Victoria's eyebrows shot up.
"You don't understand. She's strong, brave, resilient—far better than your previous clingy girlfriend."
"She has zero femininity," I countered.
"Spend some time with her," Victoria smiled knowingly.
"You might fall for her."
"You're delusional. You haven't even met her."
"Women understand other women better," she said confidently.
"Your previous choice wasn't the right one."
I stood up, exasperated.
"Enough! Even if she were the last woman on Earth, I wouldn't marry her."