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Are we going too far in trying to break her down? Are we doing too much?
I push those feelings aside, drowning them in the sea of resentment that surges within me. She brought this upon herself. Thinking she could come here and snag herself a wealthy husband to secure her baby’s future was so far beyond out of line that Evangeline deserves all of this and worse.
If she’s not at the breaking point yet, she’s got to be close. No one can take the full force of the Everhart brothers, not when we’ve put our minds to something.
7
THEO
The air is thick with anticipation as I step out of my car and into the cool night. My footsteps echo on the concrete sidewalk, a rhythmic cadence that mirrors the pulsating bass of the club that lay before me.
Tonight I need an escape, a reprieve from everything that had been consuming my thoughts lately. The neon glow of the club’s sign beckons me like a siren’s call, promising an evening of hedonistic delights.
The weight on my shoulders seems to lift, if only for a moment as I grasp the gleaming metal handle of the sleek, modern exterior door of Shadowsphere, our haven amid the chaos of the outside world.
We bought this place a few years back, trying to find something to take our mind off the grief and devastation from the loss of our father, and tonight is the perfect night to give in to the darkest parts of myself.
As I navigate through the throng of bodies lining the dance floor, a sense of liberation washes over me, freeing me from the suffocating confines of my own mind. Evangeline’s presence in our home had been an unwelcome distraction from the start, an intruder in the carefully constructed fortress of my emotions.
I need to free myself of the burden of my obsession with her, to get away from the girl who had ignited a fire inside me and threatened to consume everything in its path.
Making my way to the bar, I order a whiskey, neat, the amber liquid glinting in the dim light as I lift the glass to my lips. With each sip, the burn sears through me, a welcome distraction from the tumultuous thoughts that swirl around inside my head.
Scanning the crowd, I pick out the first woman to catch my eye. She’s got red hair, and her green eyes almost glow under the neon lights. Heading down through the crowd, I come up behind her and put my hands on her hips, our bodies moving together with an unspoken connection.
As we dance, I lose myself in the music, closing my eyes as our bodies move together. But I can’t shake the image of Evangeline's face from my mind.
Throwing back another sip of whiskey, I set the glass down, my grip tightening around the woman’s waist. The alcohol burns as it courses down my throat, a poor substitute for the fire that rages within me whenever I think of Evangeline.
China blue eyes flash in my mind, replacing verdant green, while silky blonde hair replaces fiery red. The memory of Evangeline’s piercing gaze refuses to be drowned out, haunting me even amid this fleeting distraction.
I push the woman away, disgust coursing through me. I don’t want Evangeline. She’s practically a child, and far too fragile for a monster like me. I just need to clear my head.
Stomping away, I head back to the bar and order another glass of whiskey, pounding it down recklessly before slamming the glass against the bar.
“Another,” I demand, waiting as the bartender makes me a third whiskey. Once he pushes it toward me, I lift it to my lips and take another long drink.
I turn, glass in hand, and begin to watch the dancers on the floor, the enticing display of sensual movement doing little to stop my thoughts from circling back once more to the waifish blonde maid under our employ.
She’s like a splinter under the skin, working its way deeper inside with every attempt to remove it. There’s something about her, a quiet strength, a steadfast resolve inside her that I can’t seem to squash, no matter how hard I try.
Women like her are nothing more than moths drawn to the flame of an Everhart, as our father would say. She’s going to get burned if she keeps insisting on flying so close.
Maybe I can get her out of my system once and for all, I decide as I down the rest of my glass. If I could just have the taste I’m craving, my obsession would subside.
Tossing my card on the counter of the bar, I storm outside, the cool air doing little to quell the fire simmering under the surface. Excited anticipation has me fumbling for the keys to the Porsche as I get inside, making my way back home under strobing streetlights.
The alcohol is flowing through my veins now, and I’ve got a nice buzz going by the time I arrive back at the manor.
Ryder and Oliver are lounging in the billiard room when I arrive, their own glasses in hand. “Where did you go?” Ryder asks, looking up from where he’s draped over a linen chaise lounge.
“Shadowsphere,” I say, a grin on my face. “Needed to get my mind off things.” I sink onto the couch, exhaustion settling in my bones.
“Back so soon?” Oliver asks.
“I realized our approach with Evangeline isn't working. We need to change tactics,” I inform them.
Their eyes meet mine, understanding dawning in the dim light. “What do you suggest?” Ryder asks, tone cautious.
