Chapter 2

I buttoned my shirt, stiff from the bleach and blindingly bright. My tie, my blazer, my briefs and slacks came next, and by the end of it all, I looked exactly the man my mother had raised me to be. I have never been ashamed of telling the truth so I will tell you this: I’m the biggest bastard you will ever meet. I inherited Mother’s sharp looks and Father’s dark hair, and with my mother’s long torso, I was tall also. Most of all, I inherited my mother’s personality, and just like her, people loved to be around me.

“You’re fucking delicious,” my last conquest had said. “Too handsome for your own good, aren’t you?”

I’d slapped her ass and fucked her senseless.

That nameless conquest was nothing to me, a beautiful redhead I’d met at the club who’d thrown herself at me. That normally disgusted me, but I was horny, and I wanted some pussy. I got what I wanted and sent her on her way early the next morning, watching from the window, coffee in hand as she made the walk of shame up my driveway to her Uber. I smirked, snorted, then laughed.

Did I mention that I’m an asshole too?

I was humbled only by one thing, and I met that thing at an office Christmas party.

My boss, Douglas the Rambler, rambled on and on about how best to enjoy the wine selection and its pairings. I was bored, irritated, and almost offended that he thought to waste my time with his drivel. I didn’t care for Douglas, nor did I care for anything that came out of his mouth.

Well, I didn’t mind when “promotion” did, but that was it. That’s where I drew the line.

That was, until he introduced her—the very thing that humbled me.

“This is my wife, Inaya,” Douglas said, and I looked up from checking my phone, losing my breath instantly. Such sadness in those amber eyes that it felt as if she’d hooked me by the ankle and tugged me into it; that anguish washed over me, suffocating me. Just looking at her, I already couldn’t breathe.

That evening gown accentuating those hourglass curves, those long legs, feet fitted tightly into high heels, sleek black hair rippling down her back, and impeccable makeup—something even I could admire. An oval-shaped caramel-colored face, cheeks like Chrissy Teigen’s, adorable dimples, and luscious painted red lips; she impressed me. Her beauty was beyond comparison, and she was a broken thing. I could tell from one look alone that something had shattered that lovely creature.

She was perfect.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” I lied, taking her hand and shaking it. She was ice-cold, and it made me sad. I wanted to take off my blazer and offer it to her, but she wasn’t a single woman at the office party; she was married—and to my boss.

“I’m sorry, you are—” she began to say, but Douglas cut her off.

“This is Benjamin Luft, our best junior executive,” Douglas said, grinning, quite pleased with himself. Did he enjoy knowing things she didn’t? Some of her sadness made sense.

“Ben,” I corrected, but I did not smile. I was looking at Inaya, and she was looking at the floor. A pitiful being, one I couldn’t wait to get my hands on, to brighten up like the Christmas tree, blinking and radiant—because right now? Right now she had no light in her. None at all.

For the rest of the party, I waited, chatting with my coworkers, but always keeping track of her in my peripheral vision. Finally, she wandered off to the balcony, and I knew that some force in the universe had given me the opportunity to have her alone.