Black Thorns: A Dark New Adult Romance (Thorns Duet Book 2)

“Mr. Weaver is asking for you.”

I stop near the door of my office at my assistant’s voice. I peek at her from around the glass door that separates her space from mine.

She’s juggling a phone between her shoulder and ear, fussing with countless case files with one hand, and typing away at her keyboard with the other.

“Do you need another assistant, Candice?”

She gives me the stink eye.

Candice is a middle-aged black woman with a big figure and a sharp tongue. She’s been with Nate and Kingsley since they opened Weaver & Shaw, and I stole her away with my negotiating skills. She soon hated me due to the workload she has to take care of.

“What do you think, young Weaver?” She tips her chin in the direction of her desk. “This won’t sort itself.”

“I’ll get you one of the interns.”

“Daniel and Knox have them all in their pockets. They love the charming ones, you know.”

“Rude, Candice. Do you mean I’m not charming?”

“Not intentionally, you aren’t.”

“Fine. I’ll smile more and be good to them.”

“Not at all of them. I don’t need starstruck trainees walking around here, giving you heart eyes and not getting things done.”

“I can never win with you.”

“At least you recognize that.” She motions down the hall. “Go and see what he wants. Seemed urgent.”

“First thing in the morning?”

She lifts a shoulder and answers the phone, “Weaver & Shaw, Sebastian Weaver’s office…”

I wave at her with two fingers, drop my briefcase in my office, then head down the hall to Nate’s lair, as Dan likes to call it.

If this is another one of his boring strategic meetings, I’m out. Uncle is the only person I consider family anymore, but he’s too strict and stoic for his own good.

Though everyone else would argue I’m no different.

No one would’ve accused me of that seven years ago, but at some point, I got tired of pretending and stopped putting on a façade unless it’s absolutely necessary.

So I dropped one of my masks—or a few.

I knock on Nate’s office door, ready to tell him that I have work to do and cases to review.

But most of all, I have some plotting to take care of.

It’s been two days since the charity event where Naomi waltzed back into my life, following her husband around.

I expected said fucking husband to get in touch, but he hasn’t. He hasn’t even called Daniel or Knox. I know because I’ve been pestering them like a needy cat lady, as Dan called me, and nearly confiscated their phones.

If Akira isn’t going to make the first move, I’ll have no choice but to do it myself. But I can’t look desperate or he’ll be suspicious of my reasons.

“Come in,” Uncle’s voice floats from the inside.

I step inside, making a show of my exasperated sigh.

Nate’s office is the biggest in the firm and he’s even having construction done on the upper floors. Weaver & Shaw is expanding, and the numbers over the years indicate increasing profits.

It’s all thanks to Nate. Not his senator father or his influential mother. Just him.

And part of it is because he doesn’t let just anyone join. In the law circuit, his interviewing process for associates is infamous as being absolutely ruthless and scrutinizing. He’s the type who knows your deepest, darkest secrets before even you do.

In a way, my uncle inherited the Weaver quality of only wanting the best.

Nate sits behind his glass desk in an erect position. He’s older now, close to hitting forty, and could be mistaken for a fucking vampire due to how little he’s aged.

“What is it?” I ask, stepping into the office.

I pause when my eyes land on the woman across from him.

The same woman I pictured underneath me with my hand around her throat as I jacked off against the shower wall last night.

The same woman I had a dream about and woke up with my hand around my hard dick.

She looks different than she did at the party, less put together but more guarded.

Her black hair is loose, falling to her shoulders. It’s longer than it was when we were in college, making her look more like her mom. She’s wearing a smart blue suit and black high heels, and the combination of the three give her a mature edge.

Her lips are painted a bright red and the urge to smear it across her fucking face with my fingers, then with my dick is all I can think about.

Maybe I should make all of her skin red.

Her expression is closed off, strained, even, like some of the businessmen who have a take-no-nonsense personality.

For some reason, this is closer to how I imagined she would evolve. A beautiful woman with a no-bullshit attitude. Not a fucking side piece on an influential man’s arm.

I hide my surprise. Seeing her in Nate’s office is the last thing I expected.

Yes, I’d planned to meet with her again, but on my terms and definitely not where I work.

“What is this?” I say in the cold, professional tone everyone but Candice is used to from me.

“Sit, Sebastian.” Nate motions at the seat across from her. “Naomi came here with a request.”

I unbutton my jacket and lower myself into the chair. The small coffee table is the only thing separating us, and another urge grips me.

This time, I want to grab her by the nape and jam her against the table, maybe punish her. Maybe toy with her.

Maybe hurt her.

At any rate, I’d fucking have her.

“He’s here. You can talk,” Nate speaks in his unaffected tone, ignoring the fact that a ghost from our past just jumped back into our lives.

He didn’t even see her that night at the charity event since she left before he made his brief appearance.

Though I’m sure the two fuckers, Daniel and Knox, tattled after all the jokes they made at my expense.

Naomi lifts the cup of coffee that’s on the table and takes a sip, slowly savoring it before her eyes meet mine.

I keep the contact, even when she slides her attention to Nate. “My husband will make an offer to Sebastian to become his acting attorney for the new branch he’s opening in New York and I’d like for you to deny that offer.”

Well, well.

Akira does want us to work together, after all, and Naomi hates the idea.

Good. This will be my perfect fucking opening.

“Why would I refuse such an important work opportunity?” I ask nonchalantly.

Her gaze slides back to mine, slightly widened. “Why would you want to work with him?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. The past, maybe?”

“You said it yourself. It’s in the past. We shouldn’t let personal affairs get in the way.”

She purses those blood-red lips, and for some reason, it brings back memories of that fucking cell when she pressed her T-shirt on my wound in a desperate attempt to save me.

Only so she could stab me in the back afterward.

Her attention returns to Nate. “You need to stop him.”

“I don’t really interfere with how he or anyone else takes on clients unless there’s a strong reason to do so.”

“There is a reason. I don’t want to mix the past with the present.”

“But you won’t. Sebastian will be working with your husband, not with you, Mrs. Mori.”

A muscle clenches in my jaw when Nate calls her by her husband’s last name. I thought I’d never hate anything as much as the way she fucking disappeared, but here it is.

Her name attached to another man.

Her name with another fucker.

It’s almost as bad as the pain I felt after she broke up with me via phone.

Almost.

“Does that mean you won’t stop him?” she asks Nate with a note of impatience.

“I’m afraid not. I have no compelling reason to interfere. Take it up with him and convince him yourself.”

Her glare falls on me and I give her a smile, a genuine one, with an edge of darkness. Because there’s no way in fuck I’m letting this golden opportunity slide.

I like the way she glares. How her lips still twitch at the corners and how a pink hue covers her pale cheeks.

Some things never change, after all.

“You’ll both regret this.” She jerks up and snatches her handbag, then storms out of the office.

I relax in my seat to stop myself from standing and going after her. Maybe grabbing her and pushing her into a dark corner. Maybe touching her and imprisoning her.

Nate raises a dark brow, forming a steeple at his chin with his fingers. “Do I need to know what that was all about?”

“She’s back in town.”

“I’m not blind. I can see that. She’s married, too.”

“I know that.”

“Apparently, you don’t, because your eyes are shining with that impulsiveness again, Rascal.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“The last time you said that, I had to write checks and settle with random people at bars.”

“I’m not young and reckless anymore. I’ll be fine.”

“You better be. We don’t want Mr. and Mrs. Weaver to say I told you so. And I definitely don’t want my nephew to get caught up in the wrong crowd.”

“Wrong crowd?”

“Akira Mori is known to deal with criminal organizations. He has no morals when it comes to business, and that means he also has no boundaries with interpersonal relationships.”

“I wouldn’t call myself someone with morals either. So this should be fun.”

He leans over in his seat, interlacing his fingers at his chin. “I’m not a fool. I’m well aware you’re doing this for her, not for the challenge or work-related reasons. I was there and saw you at your worst, Rascal. So you can’t tell me this whole thing is just a business venture for you.”

“But you can believe it is. That way, you get the profits and a clear conscience.”

He sighs and relaxes back. “I warned you, but I can’t hold your hand and stop you, so suit yourself. You’re not a kid anymore.”

“Thanks, Nate.” I stand.

“Put the firm in jeopardy and I’ll kick you while you’re down. I’ll even get Daniel and Knox to help.”

I roll my eyes as I leave his office and head back to mine.

My mind is crowding with options of how to go about destroying Akira Mori and Naomi through business ventures.

If she already knows he’ll make an offer, then the opportunity will present itself soon enough.

I stop by Candice’s office for today’s schedule, but instead of finding her multitasking a thousand things at once, she’s bringing a glass of water to someone sitting at her desk.

“You have a guest,” Candice tells me as I step through her doorway. “She doesn’t have an appointment, but she says she’s a personal acquaintance.”

Naomi stands and turns toward me, her stance wide and her face still closed off. “We need to talk.”

“I already gave you my opinion in Nate’s office. My answer won’t change a few minutes later.”

She purses her lips. If it were old times, she would’ve cursed me by now. But maybe she’s reined that part of herself in.

Or maybe she’s just disappeared.

“Hear me out,” she says, her voice softer, but I can tell she’s pushing herself to sound like that.

“No.”

“Sebastian…”

“You didn’t hear me out seven years ago. Why should I do it now?”

Her face pales, lips parting, but she says nothing.

Good.

Now she understands a sliver of what I fucking felt.

“Email me my schedule, Candice.” I leave her standing there and step into my office.

The door opens behind me and Naomi enters, her breathing harsh as she shuts the door.

I face her with an intentionally exasperated sigh. “What is it now?”

“You can’t just ignore me and pretend I’m not here.”

“Believe me, I can.”

“Fine, you’re right to be aloof and apathetic. The past was bloody and wrong, but we’re not there anymore. We’re here and you need to hear me out.”

“Maybe I’m always there. Maybe I didn’t wake up in the hospital. Maybe I remained in that fucking cell for seven years.”

Her mouth drops open.

“I see you still have the habit of going speechless when hard facts are thrown your way, Naomi. Or should I call you Mrs. Mori now?”

Saying the name is like swallowing fucking acid down my throat. It’s like stabbing my own goddamn eyes and floundering in the dark with no exit in sight.

But I continue with my taunting look and tone. I continue to roll in the lie until it consumes me.

“Akira is dangerous,” she says in a low voice. “Don’t be fooled by his outer businessman appearance. He’s ruthless and callous and has not one bone of mercy in his body, especially since he’s approaching you for reasons other than work. He wants to dig into my past through you and he won’t stop unless he gets what he’s after, even if it means ruining you and Nate’s firm in the process. So walk away now while you can.”

“You forget one minor detail. He wants to work with me.”

“He’ll eventually give up.”

“You just said he won’t stop until he gets what he wants. Which happens to be me.”

“Just don’t accept his offer.”

“Why do you care whether I accept it or not?”

“Because it’ll impact me.”

I take a step toward her without realizing, because this fucking pull we have is apparently not something that can be eradicated with time.

The scent of lilies mixed with peaches and the past fills my nostrils when I stop a few inches away from her, and my voice drops. “Impact you how?”

She sucks in an audible breath, her pupils dilating. When she speaks, it’s with effort. “I don’t want Akira to know about my past.”

My jaw clenches at her insinuation that our past is some sort of a dirty secret she wants to hide from her hotshot husband.

“Why should I care about what you want?”

“You don’t want him to know either.”

“Maybe I do. Maybe I’ll have a drink with him and tell him about all the ways I chased his pretty wife and fucked her in all her holes while she screamed for more. He could use some pointers.”

That pink hue explodes on her cheeks again and she raises her hand to slap me, but I’m faster. I grab it in mine before she has the chance to act.

Maybe it’s the fact that I’m touching her again or it could be the anger shining in her dark eyes that she’s not allowed to have. But in a fraction of a second, my mood goes from gray to black.

All the bottled-up emotions rush to the fucking surface, eradicating any sliver of control I possess.

Using my hold on her, I back her up, slam her against the door, and imprison her wrist above her head. She gasps as I crush my front against hers, my lips meeting the shell of her ear. “You have two options, Naomi. One, turn around, leave my office, and never fucking show your face here again. Don’t talk to me about your husband or your concerns, and don’t ever fucking ask me to hear you out. Two, stay and bear the consequences.”

She blinks rapidly, her delicate throat working with a swallow. My hand itches to wrap around that throat and squeeze until she’s lightheaded and gasping for air. Until she’s hazy and dizzy but not fighting me, because she trusts me to allow her oxygen.

Fuck.

Now that the image has formed in my head, I can’t chase it away.

She doesn’t make a move to leave either. Doesn’t attempt to pull herself from me.

“Your time is up, Naomi.”