Just One Orgasm!

The charity auction had begun shortly after Adrian’s speech, and the atmosphere had shifted completely.

The solemnity that had followed his words had gradually given way to conversation, laughter, raised paddles, and the occasional burst of applause whenever another item was sold.

Adrian barely noticed any of it.

His mind was elsewhere.

Dante had been there.

He had been close enough to leave a phone in the bathroom and a message specifically for him.

And now he was gone.

Adrian stood near one of the tall windows overlooking the city, with his phone pressed against his ear.

"Nothing?" he asked.

Christian’s voice came through the line. "Nothing."

Adrian’s jaw tightened.

"We’ve checked the roads around the hotel. The parking garage, service entrance, alleyways, everything."

"And?"

"No Dante."

Adrian looked through the glass.

The city stretched beneath him, thousands of lights glittering in the distance.

"He didn’t leave through the obvious exits."

"That’s what I’m thinking."

"Then find the less obvious ones."

Christian sighed. "We’re working on it."

Adrian glanced toward the ballroom. "Keep working."

He ended the call, and then he slipped the phone into his pocket and turned back toward the room.

The auctioneer was announcing another item.

A luxury vacation package had just been sold for an absurd amount of money.

People laughed, and someone applauded.

Adrian’s expression remained indifferent.

He had just taken a step toward the ballroom when a man moved into his path.

Adrian stopped.

The man smiled.

"Mr. Ashford." He greeted. "Or should I say, Mr. Belmont?"

Adrian looked at him. He recognized him immediately. He had seen him going in and out of a particular prison.

His men there told him that he was Noah’s uncle.

The man was older than Adrian by at least twenty years. He was dressed in an expensive dark suit with a silver watch visible beneath his cuff.

He had the polished appearance of someone who had spent most of his life moving through rooms where people rarely told him no.

Adrian’s expression didn’t change. "Can I help you?"

The older man smiled. "I’m sure you can."

Adrian waited.

The man glanced around the ballroom before looking back at him.

"I hear your speech went well."

"It did."

"Interesting."

Adrian raised an eyebrow.

The man slipped one hand into his pocket.

"Sometimes," he said casually, "people tell stories about cages without realizing that some cages have doors."

Adrian stared at him. "I’ve never been particularly fond of riddles."

The man chuckled. "Neither am I."

"Then speak plainly."

The older man’s smile faded slightly. "I’m talking about my nephew."

Adrian’s eyes hardened. "Which one?"

"You know exactly which one."

"Noah."

"Yes."

Adrian said nothing.

The man stepped slightly closer. "He has been in custody for long enough." His voice came out thighter.

"Then take the matter to the correctional authorities."

"We have."

"Then speak to his lawyers." Adrian deadpanned.

"We have."

Adrian’s expression remained cold. "So I’m not sure why you’re speaking to me."

The man studied him. "Because I know you."

Adrian almost chuckled. "You don’t."

"I know enough."

"Then you should know that whatever happens to Noah is no longer my concern."

The man’s jaw tightened. "Your concern?"

Adrian looked at him.

"You’ve made sure it became your concern."

The man lowered his voice. "The boy made a mistake."

"Your nephew committed a crime."

"He simply slapped a lady."

Adrian’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t show his feelings on his expression. "Exactly."

The man glanced toward the crowd. "Ten million dollars."

Adrian’s eyes narrowed. "What?" He managed to ask, uninterested.

"The police rejected ten million dollars."

Adrian said nothing.

The man leaned closer. His voice was almost conversational. "Which means someone else paid higher to keep him there."

Adrian’s expression didn’t move.

"And you have the money." The older man watched him carefully.

Adrian finally spoke. "That’s an interesting accusation."

"It’s not an accusation. It’s an observation."

Adrian stepped closer. "Then observe this."

The man’s eyes lifted.

"I don’t care how much money you have."

The man’s expression hardened. "You should."

Adrian’s voice remained quiet. "But you should care about where you spend it."

The older man stared at him.

Adrian looked toward the ballroom, then he turned back. "I’m not the man you should be trying to intimidate."

The older man gave a small laugh. "You’re threatening me?"

Adrian’s expression remained completely blank. "Your nephew would remain there as long as I see fit."

The man’s face tightened. "You had something to do with his arrest."

"I had something to do with him being held accountable."

"You are ruining his life."

"He did that himself."

The man stepped closer. "You don’t know who you’re dealing with."

Adrian looked down at him. His lips curled into a mocking smile. "I know exactly who I’m dealing with."

The man’s smile disappeared.

Adrian’s voice lowered.

"And if you continue trying to interfere with the investigation, I’ll make sure every financial transaction connected to Noah is examined."

The man’s face changed.

Adrian stepped closer.

The older man stared at him.

Adrian continued. "You came here tonight because you thought a crowded room would make you safe."

The man’s eyes flickered.

"It won’t." Adrian’s voice was barely above a whisper. "And if you try to buy your way around the law again, I’ll make sure the people you paid know exactly what they were paid for."

The man swallowed. "You wouldn’t."

Adrian’s gaze didn’t waver. "Try me."

For a moment, neither man moved.

The older man looked away first.

Adrian straightened. "Take it to the correctional office."

The man looked back at him. "And if they refuse?"

"Then appeal."

"And if the appeal fails?"

"Get better lawyers."

The man’s face twisted. "You think this ends here?"

Adrian slipped his hands into his pockets. "I think it ends when your nephew serves the sentence he earned."

The man stared at him, then he leaned closer. "Family has a long memory, Belmont."

Adrian’s expression remained cold. "So do I."

The man held his gaze for another second, then he stepped away.

Adrian watched him disappear into the crowd.

His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out.

Christian.

Adrian answered immediately. "What?"

"We lost the signal completely."

Adrian’s eyes hardened. "When?"

"About eight minutes ago."

"Any visual?"

"No."

Adrian looked toward the ballroom entrance. "Keep looking."

"We will."

Adrian ended the call.

He glanced at the time.

11:18 p.m.

His mind immediately went to Emilia. He wondered if she’d sent another message. He checked his phone, and there was nothing.

His brows drew together.

She’d sent him something earlier.

He remembered seeing the notification while he was leaving the bathroom. He hadn’t opened it.

He opened the conversation now.

Her message appeared. "I could be on your lap right now, while we make out. But I guess texting is okay now."

For the first time that night, something resembling warmth touched Adrian’s expression.

He smiled.

He typed a reply. "I’m coming home."

He sent it, then he slipped the phone into his pocket. He didn’t know why, but suddenly he felt uneasy.

He couldn’t explain it.

Maybe it was instinct, or exhaustion.

Maybe it was simply the strange feeling that something had changed while he’d been away.

He didn’t know.

But he wanted to get home. Immediately.

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