Wild Violet (The Vi Trilogy of The Gilded Flower Series Book 1) (11 page)

“You’ve got a lot of nerve.” A thick hand jostles the glass in Vi’s hand, dribbling vodka down her chin.

“What the hell!” She wipes her chin and turns to see Azahr standing over her.

“You’re a piece of work, aren’t you? A gold-digging whore like your mother.”

“Right. You’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” Vi stares back at him, swipes the glass out of his hand and takes a long drink.

“Yes, I do. What will it take to get you on the next flight out of Dubai and out of my life?”

Vi chuckles. “If only it were that easy. Unfortunately, we have a father in common who seems to believe his legacy rests with us.”

“With me.” Azahr corrects.

“Are the rest of your siblings as narcissistic as you?”

Once again he takes the glass out of her hand, but this time he finishes her drink. “They don’t have the brains or the balls to do what I do.”

Vi runs her eyes over Azahr. “I think you have a rather high opinion of both.”

He shakes his head and tosses several bills on the bar. “You don’t belong here. I suggest you find a line of work outside of Rai Industries.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I will,” Vi replies. As he turns to leave, she adds, “By the way, you’re not hard to read. You may have Father fooled, but I can see this loyalty thing is an act. You better hope he retires before he realizes it.”

Vi stirs her drink absently, waiting for time to pass, feeling deflated from Azahr’s insults. No matter how much she reassures herself that his words don’t bother her, they do. What bothers her more, though, is why her father insists on bringing her into the company if Azahr has a clear line to take over.
What does he want from me?

Goosebumps form as she feels someone edge close to her. “Azahr Rai isn’t someone you want to piss off. I hear he’s the vindictive type.”

Hearing her half-brother’s name, Vi glances up at the speaker. Gazing down at her are the most spectacular eyes she’s ever seen. The gold flecks in his light green eyes make them appear golden under the dim lights of the bar.

His lips curl up into a smile, showing a dimple in his chin. Clearly he’s aware of the effect he has on women. Vi catches herself staring and looks down into her glass. “Can’t say I know him well enough to say differently,” she remarks, taking a sip.

“Your conversation appeared quite intense—almost like a lovers’ spat.” He twists his hands around his Breitling watch while he awaits Vi’s response. She notices his skin is a light brown like hers. He must have at least one parent who’s Indian.

She raises an eyebrow at him, the mere notion of her ever sleeping with a pudgy, disgusting man like her half-brother makes her want to laugh and vomit. The former wins as she laughs quietly. “Fortunately, Azahr and I aren’t tied to each other in that way, or in any way really.”
Except for sharing a father.
But this stranger doesn’t need to know that. It’s none of his business.

He perches himself onto the empty seat next to Vi.

“I tell you that he’s not my lover, and you presume that you can join me? I could be expecting someone, or desire to be alone.”

“It’s either A, B, or C. I’ll sit here until you give me an answer,” he replies, leaning in close. “Although I’ve seen you in here alone every night this week. Same seat, same drink.” He motions for the bartender who promptly arrives to take his order. Ketel One straight up.

“Ah, so you’re a stalker then?”

“More like an opportunist. If I see something that appeals to me, then why not go for it.”

“I’m a person, not an object.”

He nods. “A very pretty person with a quick mind. The whole package.”

“Still not flattering.” Vi gazes at him for a minute. “Well, you have the pretty part down since you look like a Bollywood actor. The intelligent bit remains to be seen,” she replies nonchalantly.

He still hasn’t lost his smile, which is becoming tempting. “What if I tell you that I have an M.B.A. from Wharton?”

Vi chuckles. “Apparently that makes you a dime a dozen in this city.”

“And I did my undergrad at the University of Chicago.”

Vi perks up a little. “Then you’re a hot nerd.”

His smile becomes wider. “Funny. Most don’t find that bit interesting.”

“I’m not most people,” she quips. Vi shifts in her seat.
This evening just might end better than it started.

“Why would you presume that I was Azahr’s mistress?”

He shrugs, running his forefinger along his chin. “Well, you’re certainly not his wife. And you’re too beautiful to talk to him if he isn’t paying you.”

Vi coughs, the vodka going down wrong. “Are you implying that I’m an escort?”

“There’d be nothing wrong with that, would there?”

She shakes her head. “With the profession, no. With you presuming that being alone at a bar implies that I am, yes.”

He withholds a reply, opting instead to enjoy his drink in silence. She can’t blame him for assuming, can she? It’s a business with which she’s become intimately acquainted.

“You hire escorts often?” She finally breaks the stalemate. A part of her wants to tell him the answer is ‘C’, that she’d prefer to be alone, but she can’t deny the strong attraction.

“Only a couple of times. It’s not easy for a single guy living in Dubai. Most people move here married, many with families. A gorgeous woman like you is like a mirage in this desert oasis. I had to know if you’re for real.”

Vi smiles, forgiving the pathetic line. “Quite the smooth operator, aren’t you?”

He laughs. She’s beginning to like the sound of it.

“So why move here if a beautiful man like you can’t get laid?” Vi asks, matching his candor. She’s dying to know if he’s as fun in bed as he is to talk to.

“Ambition. I could waste away at some bank on Wall St. and have my balls handed to me by my boss on a daily basis, or come here and become C.F.O. of a major multi-national in ten years. What would you have chosen?”

Vi shakes her head. “I’m still trying to decide for myself.”

“Oh yeah. What line of business are you in?”

“Sales,” she replies quickly.

“What would it take to convince you to choose Dubai?”

Vi looks up, pretending to consider his question. Eventually she replies, “I don’t think it’s the right playground for me, not for the moment anyhow.”

He runs an index finger along the back of her knee, sending a wave of desire right to her core. “Can it at least be a playground for tonight?”

“That was sensational,” he says, laying back on the bed and catching his breath. “I would have totally paid for that.”

Vi pushes herself off of him.
So would I,
she thinks to herself. “Fortunately, I know you mean that as a compliment. It makes you sound like an absolute bastard though.”

He props himself on his elbow and watches as Vi collects her clothes and folds them. She pulls her suitcase out from her closet and begins to pack.

“At least when there’s money involved, it’s a clean transaction. Right now, I’m feeling like a used prop,” he chuckles. “You could hang out in bed for a bit. It is your room.”

“I have a two a.m. flight. The room is paid through the night. You can stay if you want.”

His smile disappears. “It’s fine. I live in the building.” He watches as she finishes packing and heads into the palatial bathroom. As soon as he hears the water running, he meets Vi in the shower.

“I don’t recall asking you to join me,” she says. Noticing his obvious need for her, she relents. “Then again, I can see you have
enormous
potential.” Her hands move up his smooth, hard chest.

He runs his tongue along the edge of his bottom lip. “I could say the same for you. Shame you’re leaving so soon.”

Vi closes her eyes and puts her face under the rain shower. Opening them she says, “Wouldn’t matter if I stayed. I have a one-night only policy.”

“Oh yeah?” His expression turns serious. “Seems like a waste if you meet someone you can have fun with.”

“My friend,” she pauses, “Fun isn’t forever. So let’s just make the most of the time we have.” Vi leans up and presses her lips against his, enjoying the soft fullness of them. The kiss deepens, and she folds her body into his. Everything about him is a perfect fit, from his torso to his cock. She’s relieved she has to leave. Being in the same city could make him dangerous for her.

“My name is Samir,” he says, the head of his cock penetrating her once again. Vi arches her back and opens her legs a bit more to give him greater access to her pussy. He runs his hand down her body, stopping over her throbbing clit. “I would love to know your name.”

“Why? So when you jack off to the memory of this, you can name me?” Vi pushes her breasts up to meet him, loving the touch and feel of his lips and hands on her. This chance encounter reminds her of the freedom she craves, and how it can’t be found in a city like Dubai where she would lose her anonymity. There’s beauty in being unknown. She can be as wild and free as she wishes, satisfying each and every one of her desires. It affirms—New York is where she belongs.

“My friends call me Vi. You can call me Violet.”

Samir pulls her up by her ass, brings her other leg around his waist and sits back on a bench, the water beating on them. “I like when you ride my cock, Violet,” he breathes, kissing down her neck. “If this is the last time, I want to remember it.”

Vi smiles down, lifting herself off of him entirely then crashing down over his shaft, the pleasure mixing with the pain. She wants it rough and hard, every thrust penetrating her as deeply as possible. Her body starts to tremble with pleasure as he moves his fingers from her clit, past her wet snatch to her tight opening.

“Do you like that?” Samir says, his voice husky and strained. He wants to be inside her in
every
way.

She nods, recalling her experiences with Andrés. “You really are an opportunist. What makes you think you could be so lucky?”

“I was a lucky man when you decided to talk to me,” he says, his lips moving from one breast to the other, sucking and biting her diamond hard nipples.

Vi stands on the corner of 50
th
and 8
th
, slivers of summer sun beginning to reflect off Worldwide Plaza as she confirms the address she had scribbled down on a piece of paper. She was packing for her post-graduation trip with Lily and Dahlia when her father’s secretary called to inform her that she had an appointment the following day at this office. She doesn’t recall her father ever mentioning that Cravath handled any of his business. Then again, she reminds herself, she knows so little about how he runs his empire.

“I have a ten a.m. with Mr. Berkman,” Vi says to the receptionist.

The woman picks up her phone to announce Vi’s arrival.

Five minutes later, a petite, middle-aged Filipina approaches her. “I’m Mr. Berkman’s secretary, Rita. Follow me, please.”

Vi does as she’s instructed, taking the elevator up ten floors. They step off and walk down a long corridor, past several offices until they reach a conference room. The walls are lined with framed prints. The rest of the room is taken up by a large, oak conference table that seats at least twenty people.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee? Tea?” The secretary smiles warmly. Such a contrast from her father’s secretary who seemed to struggle with appearing pleasant.

Vi shakes her head. “No thank you.”

“Alright. Mr. Berkman will be right in.” Rita closes the door quietly behind her.

Vi sits in a chair opposite the door and taps her fingers on the armrest.

Five minutes later, a tall, distinguished gentleman, roughly her father’s age, enters the room. “Ms. Rai, pleasure to meet you. I’m Mark Berkman.”

She smiles politely, “Pleasure, Mr. Berkman.”

“Did Rita offer you anything to drink?” He asks, unbuttoning his charcoal suit jacket and sitting to Vi’s left, at the head of the table. The lawyer places a folder in front of him.

Vi nods, eyeing the documents nervously. His overly polite and correct demeanor is putting her on edge. She can’t begin to fathom why she’s here. Fortunately, he didn’t make her wait much longer.

“Thank you for coming in, Ms. Rai. I don’t know if you’re aware that we handle your father’s trust matters.”

“I do now,” she says dryly.

“Very well then.” Mr. Berkman doesn’t miss a beat. “Your father has asked that we go over some matters with you. Provided you agree to them, he says he will reinstate your previous arrangement whereby you will receive the interest from your trust and he will continue to pay for your schooling. He mentioned you are pursuing your M.B.A. May I ask which program?”

“Columbia.” Vi clears her throat. Lily will also be attending in the Fall. The girls are excited to be at the same school again.

He pours a glass of water and hands it to her.

She whispers a “thank you.”

“This next part is a bit personal, so please excuse me if this makes you uncomfortable, but your father dictated a message for you. I will read directly from it.”

Vi shrugs. “I’m sure it’s fine. Please go ahead.”

“It has come to my attention that you are engaging in a practice that is not suitable for a Rai, or any woman of your intelligence and means. I demand you cease immediately before you find yourself in the worst kind of trouble.”

“This no longer makes you a suitable wife for my friend’s son, Yasir. I have terminated the agreement for the marriage. I believe it was the matter of the marriage coupled with your changed financial means which compelled you to engage in this practice.”

Mr. Berkman clears his throat and looks up at Vi. “Shall I continue?”

She nods. “Of course.”

“Therefore, you are free to pursue your education without the promise of marriage. However, I expect you to join Rai Industries once you’ve completed your M.B.A. and had a few years of experience in finance. Once you have done so, your full trust will be granted to you. If you choose not to join the company within a suitable time frame, you shall forfeit your trust.”

The lawyer clears his throat again. “That is all.”

“Naturally.” She couldn’t expect her father to sign a letter with
Love
or even a
Sincerely
.

“Oh, and he wanted it mentioned that he has wired five hundred thousand dollars into your account as a graduation gift and as a sign of good faith.”

Guess that’s his gesture of love,
Vi thinks to herself, remembering John’s advice to accept her parents’ limitations.

The lawyer continues. “Given the sensitive nature of your work, he wanted to ensure that it remain confidential. He is serious about you ending this . . .” Mr. Berkman waves his hand as if shooing a fly, “Venture of yours. And I must agree that such a practice would only end badly for you. This isn’t a game you want to play, Ms. Rai.”

“Duly noted,” she nods again. “Anything else?” She rises from her seat.

“Not for the moment.”

He extends his hand. “Good luck,” he says.

Vi exits onto the street, a sea of people flooding past her in all directions. She’s too preoccupied with her thoughts to notice. While she should feel relieved— even elated—by her father’s proposal, she feels nothing. It seems that no matter what choices she makes, he’ll still be there to pull the strings and control her life. This thought sends a wave of anger through her. As if his money and position as her father should be enough to buy her loyalty and allegiance.

Salt-N-Pepa’s
None of Your Business
emanates from Vi’s Goyard Monogram bag. At first she doesn’t recognize it, but then realizes it’s coming from her
other
phone, the one with a Montreal area code.

At last she answers. “Soothing Hands in-home spa care, how may I be of service?” Vi moves back into the building and into a quiet corner away from the security desk.

“Yes, that’s right,” she says in a hushed tone. “Quarterly membership is ten thousand dollars.”

Vi turns her back when she notices a guard watching her. “No,” she says, replying to the question from the woman on the other end. “That’s separate from the hourly rate, which is two thousand.”

She pauses to listen to the potential client. “Very well,” Vi says. “I have just the right date for you.”

As soon as Vi hangs up, a satisfied feeling spreads over her. No matter what her father is offering, she wants more for herself than his money and to be a pawn in whatever power struggle he wants to place her in at Rai Industries. The only way to ensure that she can take charge of her life is to have enough money to be free of him.