Page 25 of Obsessed Heir

Indulgence, the private club on board, offers exactly that. Anonymity, exclusivity, and the kind of pleasures whispered about in hushed tones.

“That’s why I started on the fringe of the continent.”

“Smart man.” He raises his glass as he rejoins the celebration.

“Another drink, sir?” a waiter offers, as I finish my champagne.

“Perfect timing.” I swap out the flutes.

Waiters are weaving in and out of the crowd, precisely as Holly planned. Champagne is going out by the caseload, and the numbers are adding up in the back of my mind. That’s why I warned the investors this first trip was likely to end up at a loss.

We need an indelible splash to make Maiden Cruise Line the next global status symbol for the ultra-wealthy and elite. Ourmaiden voyage consists of carefully curated A-list VIPs. With that, our every move is bound to be amplified across all social media platforms on a global scale.

The trick is to control the optics. We’ll ensure the right candid photos and videos are released to build buzz. Meanwhile, Austin’s team helps contain any untoward antics that could create a scandal.

I lean against the railing and glance across the deck. Holly’s chatting up Rhys Davenport, multi-billionaire, currently the richest man living in Alaska, which says a lot in itself. Eric D’Santo, multibillionaire heir to the D’Santo empire, is talking to Bronwyn O’Neal.

Her eyes light up as our gazes make contact.Oh hell.I should have stopped before I caught her eye. But I didn’t, so she excuses herself from Eric and heads in my direction. Eric raises his flute, grins, and shakes his head before turning away.

I’m going to need more champagne.

“Barron.” The lilting voice of surprise belongs to Bronwyn.

“Hello again.” Holly’s earlier reminder not to be an asshole replays in my mind. I’m good at reading people, and I know what I have. With this viper trying to slither into our operations, I’m better off keeping a professional distance.

Unfortunately, Bronwyn has other designs, sidling up close and placing a perfectly manicured hand on my forearm. “I’m so glad I found you.” She raises her champagne flute for a toast. “To Maiden Cruise Line, and her maiden voyage. May it all go fabulously.”

“May it all go fabulously,” I agree, holding out my drink. She touches her flute to mine then downs the rest of her drink.

“It’s the first cruise I’ve taken in years,” the model reveals. “Well, in quite a while,” she adds in a sober tone. Likely, she realized that adding “years” to her description would reflectupon her age. Something no model in her right mind would bring attention to.

“Well, I hope you enjoy the cruise.” I shift my stance, creating a few prudent inches of space between us. “We have a wide variety of activities available on board for your entertainment.”

“Yeees,” she replies, her voice heavy with suggestion. “So I’ve heard.”

The unspoken rule has been you don’t talk about Indulgence, which she’s clearly referring to. Indulgence is a private, elite venue that caters to any desire or depravity one might imagine. It’s all kept behind closed doors and away from prying eyes.

If you want to see or be seen, it’s the place to be. More importantly, if you like to watch or be watched, you’ll fit in just fine. Holly had the brilliant idea to provide masks for preserving anonymity. We then implemented a strict ban on phones or cameras to avoid any potential scandals.

I’ll be overseeing Indulgence’s operations this trip, since it’s not Holly’s scene. Not that I’ll be indulging in any of the activities myself. I can’t risk any sordid stories haunting me later. I’ve got enough to juggle keeping this ship’s itinerary and logistics running smoothly.

Keeping that schedule will be exhausting as it is. Now I have my mother to worry about. How was I supposed to know that Holly, in her infinite wisdom, invited my mother on this trip?

Her visit would have been more convenient once we had a couple of voyages under our belt. Instead, I’m having to entertain her…and Abigail.

I don’t like that the girl’s going to be underfoot the entire trip. Every time I think about it, it bothers me. She bothers me. From the way she averts her eyes to the way she pushes her hair back to hook a curl over her ear, it bothers me. All of it.

The memory of her walking away is stuck in my mind. Her hips swaying as she goes up to the bedrooms…following James.

The closest to a daughter I’ll ever have.That’s been playing on a loop?—

“I was hoping you might give me a private tour.” Bronwyn’s honeyed tone pulls me back to the present, her meaning abundantly clear. “If you can get away for a little while.”

I don’t need this woman trying to lure me into some complicated situation.

“I’m sure you’ll find plenty of diversions to occupy your time when you’re not on a shoot,” I deflect with professional courtesy.

“Speaking of photo shoots…” She jumps on to the change of subject with an eager smile.

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