Page 131 of High Roller

“You offering yours? I’ve always thought it was a little too perfect,” I retort, clenching my fists.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender and laughs. “I’m just delivering some of the stuff I’ll need for tomorrow night’s dinner.”

Right, it’s time for our monthly VIP dinner. It’s a high protocol D/s event where the dominants in the room get premium service from the submissives, and it usually ends with an orgy or something closely resembling one. VIP members of the club pay a pretty penny for a seat at this particular table, and punching Tyson is probably not advisable no matter how much I may want to since he’s in charge of the food, and I don’t know anyone else willing to cook for that many naked people.

I don’t dislike him. He’s a great guy. Overly cheerful people just bug me, and he’s got the disposition.

The only cheerful person who doesn’t bug me is Grace.

“I’ll get out of your way,” I grumble as I head for the door.

“If you ever need to talk, I’ve got pretty good ears, I’m told,” he calls after me.

I wave a hand dismissively at him, but something stops me in my tracks, and I turn back to him.

“Have you ever wanted a woman you couldn’t have?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is it a woman you can’t have or a woman you won’t let yourself have because of some made up reason?”

I ponder the question and flip him off as a response.

“OK,” he mutters. “I see you weren’t looking for a logical answer.” He shoves a hand in the pocket of his jeans as he thinks of another way to answer. “I suppose there was a time when I wasn’t sure Sabrina could ever be mine because of her feelings for another man, but we’ve worked it out and I’ve discovered the joy of multiple partners.”

I blow out a long breath. “That sounds complicated, but I guess it works for some people.”

“Even if the situation isn’t perfect, if you have the opportunity to spend time with the woman you claim you can’t have, take it. Situations change, and something is often better than nothing at all. And most of the roadblocks that exist are of our own making.”

It seems like he’s about to get too philosophical for me, so I hold up a hand to stop him and say goodnight. But I’m considering his words as I walk down the hall. He’s right. I know he is. But it doesn’t stop me from feeling like I’m entirely too messy for Grace or Lili.

For starters, I kidnapped Lili after sleeping with her. That doesn’t exactly scream stand-up guy who belongs with a sweetheart like Grace.

Plus, I’ve promised to keep her out of my illegal dealings, and my wife can’t exactly be completely shielded from those things?

Wife? “God damn it, Victor. Get your head on straight,” I mutter to myself.

The pep talk doesn’t work, and I slam my fist into the wall outside of the suite I once shared with Lili and Grace.

“Thanks for not doing that to my face,” Tyson says from behind me.

I scowl at him, but he retreats into the kitchen before I can correct my earlier mistake of not punching him.

It’s clear I’m not going to be productive here, so I head for my car so I can drive home and talk to Lili about filing for a divorce.

As I’m opening my car door, Matteo pulls in and climbs out of the SUV with Skylar who is looking upset, so I close the door again and go to them.

“Everything OK?” I ask.

She gives me a sad smile. “I just heard how long Bryce is going to prison for in the UK, and I’m not handling it well. I thought I’d moved on from being upset about losing him, but I was wrong.”

My heart aches for her. It’s a feeling I’m uncomfortable with.

“Is there anything I can do?” I know there isn’t. Her brother is spending a long time in prison because of his role in a massacre at what was supposed to be Tobias and Bellamy’s wedding in London. It was that incident that led to our discovery of Phineas Draven being involved.

Skylar shakes her head as a fresh wave of tears stream down her cheeks. “Maybe a hug?” she asks after a moment of awkward silence.

I open my arms begrudgingly and pull her close. She cries against my chest while Matteo glares at me.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, Kitten,” I murmur against her hair, trying to lighten the mood. “Can’t let people think I’m going soft.”

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