The Calling

THIRTEEN

PENELOPE

I felt like such an i***t as I scrambled to pick up all my shopping items. I couldn’t believe I had tripped coming through the elevator door. It was bad enough that my visit was impromptu as it was. Dexter had no idea I was coming, and I feared how he might react to me knowing about the elevator. I wasn’t supposed to come here because Dexter didn’t want his family to know about me. But I needed to see him. I had to know where we stood after he told me that he wanted to end the romantic side of our relationship and broke my heart yet again.

The sound of everything I had purchased on my shopping trip hitting the ground caught the attention of multiple tenants in the hallway. All the doors opened, and I found myself staring at four very beautiful men—one in particular who stood above the rest in his beauty.

He was the first to come toward me. He helped me gather all my items and cupped my cheek. I leaned into his hand and met those perfect hazel eyes. They melted my heart every time.

“Penelope, are you all right?” he asked, his voice full of concern as he kissed my forehead.

“I’m fine. Just clumsy. I’m sorry to intrude,” I said sheepishly, feeling myself blush as I looked away.

As I cast my glance away from his perfection, I saw the other three men retreat behind closed doors. I wondered if they were the brothers Dexter had mentioned before. I followed Dexter into his apartment and looked around. Everything was a shade of black and gray—sleek, modern, and meticulously clean. The faint scent of leather and mint lingered in the air. There wasn’t an ounce of femininity to the room—no soft edges, no personal touches. It was as if the apartment was a polished mask, hiding the man who lived inside. The room looked cold, and honestly, the furniture looked overly solid, as if sitting on it wouldn’t be comfortable.

Dexter set my shopping bags down on a gray coffee table that looked like a slab of rock.

“Have a seat anywhere you’d like. Can I get you something? Maybe a drink?” he asked, looking at me with a sweet grin.

He didn’t seem unhappy that I was here. That was good.

“What do you have? I could go for water—unless you have something more fun.”

He laughed at that and went to the wall in the kitchen, where he pressed a keypad. The wall dropped down to reveal a selection of bottles.

“As a matter of fact, I do have a small collection of fun things. I also have your favorite in the fridge.”

“Pink champagne?” I asked excitedly.

“I’ll pour us a couple of glasses,” he said, smiling as he pressed the keypad again to seal away the wine.

He grabbed two beautiful glasses from sleek cabinets. The glasses looked like they were carved from crystal. They shimmered like moonlight over a lake. I was completely captivated, watching them as I moved closer and sat at the bar. I noted that the bar stool seats were black leather, but I had been wrong about them being hard. They were just the right firmness and felt like they perfectly cupped my bottom.

Dexter was pouring the champagne into the glasses when I heard a buzzing sound on the counter. It continued almost incessantly, and I realized it was Dexter’s phone.

“You’re popular,” I said with a fake laugh, hoping to keep things light.

Dexter smiled, but I saw his eyes become guarded.

“It’s just the girls in the Oasis,” he said casually, but his eyes flickered, betraying a hint of discomfort. “I was there this afternoon.”

I forced a smile, though my chest tightened. His words felt rehearsed, like a line he had delivered a hundred times before. I smiled with a sadness in my heart and turned my gaze toward the window at the back of the living room. The balcony outside had a couple of chairs and a table. They looked to be made of black iron or some kind of metal. I hoped Dexter hadn’t seen the sadness I was trying to keep hidden.

Dexter sighed and took a sip of his drink.

“I don’t have a choice but to go there, Penelope,” he said, his tone hushed and tired—a discussion we had already had too many times.

I kept staring out the window, taking my own sip of champagne. I closed my eyes and let the bubbles rush over my tongue. The flavor was delicious—better than any champagne I had ever had. I swallowed slowly, savoring the taste.

“I know you have to go. I think I could have handled it. I think I have handled everything rather well, actually. But I know you aren’t being entirely honest with me,” I said, setting my glass down and turning to meet Dexter’s eyes.

“What do you think I’ve lied about?” he asked, coming around the bar and taking my hands in his. He came so close and pushed between my legs, pulling my hands onto his chest. I could feel his heartbeat, and my own quickened at his proximity. My whole body came alive, and the floodgates opened at my core.

I pushed him back and stood, heading toward the balcony. I slid open the door to get some air.

“Don’t do that when I’m trying to talk to you,” I whispered.

He had followed me, and I could see his gorgeous dark curls rise and fall in the breeze through the window’s reflection. His eyes were fixed on me.

“I can’t always help myself. When I touch you, I feel normal. I feel human,” he whispered and reached for me.

I let him snake his arms around my waist, his warmth chasing away the chill in the air. I should fight him. I should have left the day I found out what he was. But every time I tried, I was pulled back by the way he made me feel—alive, cherished, desired. He was my greatest weakness and my most dangerous temptation. I had been drawn to him from the moment I first laid eyes on him. Two years of working for him, watching from the sidelines as he charmed every woman who crossed his path. I told myself I was immune to his games, but deep down, I was already ensnared. When he finally turned his attention to me, I didn’t stand a chance. No woman wants to be caught in the web of a spider, even a very handsome and charming spider. Elara and I had always made fun of those silly girls getting caught in his web. Yet, here I was.

When he set his sights on me, I thought, to hell with it. Maybe it will be a good time. But it turned into so much more. A secret love. An uncovering of the real man beneath all the bullshit. He was deep and poetic. He was fun and exciting. He challenged me and made life exhilarating, and he made me feel like I was the only one—until I finally got a hold of his phone eight months in and saw all the messages from other girls. Until the night he lost control of his power on me. It was like a veil had been lifted, revealing the predator beneath the charm. That night, I learned the truth about Dexter Vorra and his family—the truth he had fought so hard to keep hidden.

I closed my eyes and turned around, burying my face in his chest. He smelled minty and sharp, and I inhaled deeply. I didn’t want to cry, but I couldn’t help myself. Dexter lifted me up and carried me over to the couch. He sat me down and went down the hall to pull a blanket from the linen closet. I was surprised to find that the couch was like the bar stool. It looked terribly uncomfortable but held me like a glove. The leather was soft. Dexter handed me a black down comforter. It was huge. I laughed in the midst of my tears.