The Contract With Her Father's Billionaire Rival-Chapter 44: Desire For Another Man.

Alaric poured another glass of scotch and downed it in a single swig.

He knew he shouldn’t be drinking just yet, but he couldn’t help it. He needed something to feast on the anger reeling in his chest—to consume it before he exploded from just reaching for it.

"Drinking won’t solve this," Richard said softly as he sat on the couch.

Alaric’s fingers tightened slowly around the glass as he walked over to his desk and poured himself another glass.

He paced around his study, trying to steady the chill that lurked in his chest.

His anger was a combination of many things, but Ronald Voss’s threat sat over it all. He pulled out his phone, allowing his finger to linger on the unlock button before finally unlocking it.

He played the video again and again, watching as his own face lit up with mischief.

There was no way around it. That was him.

There was no lie he could fabricate, once the mess got out, everybody would know it was him.

His face was too fucking visible.

"Okay, I just have to say it—you’re being weird, and I know it’s not just about Ronald Voss’s message," Richard said, his tone laced with annoyance as he studied Alaric with a slightly irritated expression.

Alaric sighed as he finally stopped pacing. He sipped his drink, perched at the edge of his desk, and faced Richard.

If Richard didn’t know about all that had happened, who would?

"Violet drugged me with an aphrodisiac. Nicolette took it out of me. My mother stripped Nicolette out of her wedding gown, and then Nicolette got pissed I didn’t react the way I should have."

There.

"What the actual hell?" Richard exclaimed, springing to his feet. His eyes widened, then narrowed in thought. He brushed his hand through his hair before speaking again. "You have to do something about Violet. That was too much."

"Oh, I will," Alaric replied firmly, though he didn’t yet know what.

And Clara too.

His mother couldn’t go around harassing Nicolette just because she didn’t like her. It was becoming annoying at this point—stupid, even.

She was becoming the typical mother-in-law.

"And Aunt Clara," Richard said, his voice dropping as he sat back down. "She... just—"

"Mean," Alaric finished for him, tightening his grip around the glass. "It’s weird."

Since moving back to New Orleans permanently, Clara had changed. He understood that she hadn’t wanted him to return, but then again she seemed to be struggling with the fact that he was an adult, and he could make his own decisions.

Maybe she just wasn’t used to seeing her baby boy take charge.

Alaric sighed. Maybe.

Six years apart, with just one visit a month, was bound to make Clara feel like she didn’t understand him anymore.

And he couldn’t blame her.

He had changed. Maybe he should cut her some slack.

"What do we do about Ronald Voss?" Richard asked, pulling Alaric from his thoughts.

Alaric took a sip of his drink. "I don’t know. Call his bluff? Threaten him?"

He knew what Ronald wanted, but it was too late to let Nicolette go.

Too damn late.

And it wasn’t just because they were officially married now.

His dick jerked at the thought.

Richard leaned forward, scratching his chin. "Negotiating with Ronald is a dead idea—we know the kind of man he is. He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants and wouldn’t care who he hurts in the process. Not even Nicolette."

"True," Alaric nodded. "So what do you suggest?"

"I say we hack his system."

Alaric’s eyes widened. "Wow, Richy!"

Richard shrugged, a small blush spreading across his face. "I mean, you can’t win against that man. When he releases the video, all these plans crumble."

Alaric agreed, but still...

"He has one truth, and that truth is enough to make all his lies believable," Richard continued. "One truth—and even if a picture of you and Nicolette swimming naked hit the spotlight, it wouldn’t save anything."

"Ouch," Alaric exclaimed, though his body jolted at the image Richard painted.

Richard shrugged. "It’s the truth."

He knew it was.

"One tap, in and out. Video erased," Richard said, his tone confident, his eyes sharp like he was ready to pounce on something—or someone. In this case, Ronald.

Richard was good, and he rarely came up with dark plans unless he was sure of himself.

Which was the only reason Alaric agreed. "Fine."

A wild grin spread across Richard’s face as he stood. "I’ll be right back." Then he left the study.

Alaric sipped his drink, his mind blank for only a moment before the thoughts flowed.

He was beginning to think signing a deal with Nicolette had been a mistake. The one thing that had pushed him into offering the contract—aside from everything else—was his attraction to her.

He had denied it the first day he noticed it. But now, after he had felt how effective her handjobs were, how soaked she could get, he realized he had made a great choice.

Now the only thing left to do was continue.

He had to try all that all over again.

Richard returned, and Alaric’s thoughts shifted. He couldn’t wait to see Ronald’s face when he realized he had no leverage anymore.

"Family dinner at 8 p.m. tonight. Your dad said I should remind you," Richard said as he sat and opened his laptop.

Alaric’s jaw clenched. "I’m not going."

Richard tilted his head. "He said if your response is that you’re not coming, I should tell you he’d like to discuss the Olympus deal—what’s that?"

Alaric groaned. "It’s a new distribution system. I’ve been begging him to tell me."

"And he’s using it to bait you," Richard said, his mouth twisting into a frown. "Safe to say we Allens are... something else."

Alaric knew what Richard wanted to say, but he just laughed it off.

Nobody becomes rich and powerful by playing soft.

He learned that from his dad.

Richard began typing. "I’m working on it. Want to see how it goes?"

And spend hours watching the screen fill up with gibberish he would never understand?

"Hard pass."

Richard chuckled and went back to work.

The room became silent except for Richard’s aggressive typing. It was in that silence that Alaric noticed the soft music playing from the wedding.

His wedding.

The day had gone entirely differently. He was supposed to be with his bride, sharing their first dance, playing the perfect couple for the media—but here he was, trying to save his neck. And he had no idea where his bride was.

He finished his drink and set the glass gently on the desk before walking to the window.

He could see everything and everyone. His father and uncle were in a deep conversation, some of the reporters had left, and he saw one reporter eating. The setup looked scanty, but thankfully, he didn’t see Clara or Violet.

Where was his wife?

He scanned the venue—and then he saw her.

His eyes narrowed. Was that really her?

The woman was in a black dress. He didn’t remember ordering one for her.

He leaned in, trying to see more clearly. And then he saw the hair. It was her.

But why was she standing there, addressing just one person?

Why were her shoulders tense?

Before he could get answers, Nicolette turned, smiled at someone—he couldn’t see who—and walked the other way.

The stranger she had been speaking with followed, and Alaric’s blood boiled.

It wasn’t because he didn’t know who the stranger was, it was because the man’s eyes dropped to Nicolette’s butt, and a smirk tugged at his lips.

Alaric straightened up.

What was that about?

Still, it wasn’t his business.

Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling. He hated that Nicolette was with another man.

Unable to stand it, he left the window.

"I’ll be back," he told Richard, who only hummed, his head furrowed in concentration as he continued to type.

Alaric left the study and made his way downstairs.

Where would they have gone?

Then he saw them—standing in the path that led to the backyard garden.

He stepped closer, curiosity bubbling inside him.

Why would Nicolette attend to a guest in such a secluded place?

Except...

He saw the kiss and froze.

It was brief, but it was enough to stop his heart.

He didn’t move. Couldn’t. His lungs tightened.

Nicolette quickly left her guest, and when she saw him, her eyes widened. "Alaric."

Anger surged through him.

It wasn’t because she was dressed in a sheer gown, with her cleavage on full display for everyone’s admiration.

No.

It was the desire in her eyes.

Desire for another man.

And that made his blood boil.