Chapter Twenty-Seven
Valentin
Leaning against the window, Valentin looked down on the empty dance floor. The custodian had finished twenty minutes ago, so the overhead lights were off again, but a soft pink glow illuminated the room. Valentin eyed the enormous neon sculpture of a heart struck by lightning, its middle jagged and torn.
When Ang had offered him ownership of the club a year ago, Valentin accepted on the condition that he could change the name. The elderly alpha had agreed, and Ang’s Place became The Cracked Heart.
Valentin had meant it as a reminder to himself, an acknowledgement that even though he was moving up in the world, a vital piece of his soul remained missing. He would never be whole when so many unanswered questions plagued him. He saw the sculpture dozens of times a day, which was far less often than he thought about the omega who had broken his heart.
He breathed deeply. The night with Assa and Wes had been unexpected. A chance to escape his present difficulties.
As well as the past that haunted him.
He didn’t know why the beta husbands had affected him so much. While he indulged his sexual appetites less than most single alphas, he’d still had his share of encounters since moving to Bellwether Province. None had felt the way tonight had.
Being with them, responding to Assa’s pleas and making Wes come hard, had stirred something in his soul he’d thought permanently dormant. He growled low in his throat.
Fuck. He was never like this. So close to the edge. Self-discipline was something he prided himself on. But it had been absent tonight. He’d been downright primal.
And maybe it didn’t matter why it had happened.
Maybe the only thing that mattered was that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d fucked someone and felt something other than base gratification.
He’d experienced urgency. Lust. Satisfaction.
Valentin pushed away from the window. He shouldn’t lie to himself. He could absolutely remember the last time he’d been truly satisfied during sex. But the memory brought nothing but pain, so he shoved it away.
In the moment, finding joy with Assa and Wes had been a gift. Now, unsurprisingly, guilt swam to the top of his mind.
He couldn’t allow himself to forget.
A knock at the door brought him out of his thoughts.
“Hey, boss,” Xan said, poking his head in. “I’m going to head out if that’s alright. The night watch is already downstairs.”
“Sounds good.”
“We didn’t have any trouble this evening,” Xan added.
“Really?”
“Just the usual. Drunk guys tripping over themselves. Two idiots having some kind of knockdown boyfriend fight in the bathroom. But no sign of you-know-who.”
Valentin’s jaw clenched. “It would be great if he’s finally given up, but I doubt it. Just biding his time, I’d guess.”
“That’s my thought too,” Xan said. “So…not to pry, but I saw the betas you brought up here didn’t leave until pretty late.”
Valentin glared at him.
Xan chuckled. “Hey, I’m not asking for details. I’m just saying it’s cool. Nice to see you letting yourself have some fun for a change.”
Frowning, Valentin hung his thumbs from his pockets. Xan was the nearest thing he had to a friend. Still, he wasn’t about to break his habit of not revealing personal information.
“They were different,” Valentin admitted. “It’s not the beginning of a, um, new trend or anything.”
“I see. Then you’ll be returning to your routine of spending nights in the office, emerging once a month to bring a clubgoer upstairs—someone who will leave way, way sooner than those betas did?”
“Most likely.” Valentin’s cheek ticked.