Doctored (A Cambridge Men of Honor Novel Book Three): A Dark Mafia Bad Boy Romance (Cambridge Men of Honor—Dark Mafia Romances 3) by Felicity Brandon

Author:Felicity Brandon [Brandon, Felicity]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-07-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Oscar

Wandering by the river, I kicked a stone, watching as it skimmed across the water before finally ceding to gravity and its fate. Eying its descent, I halted. I was like that pebble in so many ways. For years, I’d been breezing along the surface of the water, gliding and relishing my privilege without remorse, guilt, or conscience. Then along came Alice, and everything changed. I changed, but it wasn’t until she attacked me and fled I could see the difference. Without her, gravity had exacted its revenge and was pushing me down to the depths. Without her, the color that had once filled my life had blanched to monochrome, leaving me pale and lifeless. Without her, I was empty.

“Fuck.” The word bled from my lips, my stomach twisting. Why was I so empty? I’d had plenty of women before and even kept a few for a day or two, but I’d never felt this way, so wrecked by the experience, so unwilling to move on. I had to be sensible, had to wrap my head around what should have been obvious. Alice was an MI5 agent. She’d been sent to spy on Chase, we intercepted her mission, and taken her hostage. Now that she was free, she would have run straight back to the arms of the agency that housed her. She’d be loyal to her masters and wouldn’t give me another thought. The realization wounded like a blade.

Stumbling backward, I staggered onto a wooden bench. The riverside was thankfully quiet, and there was no one else to witness my humiliating performance. Crumbling at the weight of the emotions pinballing inside me, I bent over, eyes closed as I fought for composure. This was ridiculous. I was being ridiculous. Alice was no one, just another woman. There was no reason for me to be so enamored, no reason for the loss to hurt so badly. The bruise on the side of my head was healing, so why wasn’t the rest of me?

Inhaling, I was jarred from my thoughts by the buzzing of my phone. Pulling the device from my inside pocket, I was puzzled to see a message from a number I didn’t recognize. Scrolling to the text, my heart hammered, the first line capturing all of my attention.

Oscar, it’s Alice.

Pulling hot ribbons of air into my nostrils, I glanced up as if I expected someone to leap from the bushes and declare this was nothing but a joke, but of course, there was no one.

Oscar, it’s Alice.

I read the line, again and again, unwilling to allow my eyes to move on. I wanted to hold on to this moment, this idea she had contacted me, missed me—wanted me. I needed it. Eventually, curiosity got the better of me, and I was compelled to read on.

I’ve been thinking about you.

Christ, I could scarcely take another breath. She’d been thinking about me? It was as if my prayers had been answered.

More than I should, actually.

Scrolling on, I looked for

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