Heat crawls through me as I scan the article, not really processing, because patience has abandoned me.
She’s identified as Loris Moir. Twenty years old. A supermodel. The new face of Nexoil.
My jaw tightens. I flick down to the comments section.
‘They look made for each other.’
‘A perfect CEO romance.’
‘Imagine their children, stunning genes!’
‘They must be dating, otherwise someone would’ve denied it by now.’
Every line pulls my eyebrows tighter and tighter until it feels like they’ll knot together.
“Veni!” I snap, nearly shouting at my AI assistant. “Call Zoan.”
“Making the call,” she replies calmly. “Are you upset, Avi?”
It’s the first time I’ve ever spoken to her so harshly. Guilt hits me instantly.
“I’m sorry, girl. I’m just… very pissed at someone.”
“Pissed at who?”
The voice that responds isn’t hers. It’s his. Deep. Rough. So unmistakably Zoan.
“What is your relation with this Loris Moir?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” My voice sharpens. “The way you were holding her didn’t look like nothing to me.”
The connection flickers, then shifts into a 3D projection. His video call materializes over my phone, enlarging until he’s right in front of me, eye-level.
Zoan sits at his office desk, dressed in his usual black shirt.
“Why are you mad about it?”
My frown doesn’t waver. “Because I don’t like her. And my brother can’t date someone I don’t approve of.”
That’s the explanation I give myself every time I question why I hate seeing him with girls. There is no one good enough for him. No one.
“I’m not dating anyone,” he answers flatly.
“You’re not allowed to fuck around either.”
His eyes narrow, a faint crease appearing on his forehead. Finally, he shows a human reaction. “I’m not fucking around. And what is this language?”
“Then why are there rumours about you dating her?”
He doesn’t answer right away. His gaze slides away from me, focusing on something on his desktop.
I take the chance to drink him in. His face is sharp, commanding, impossibly beautiful. The face I could pick out in a crowd of thousands. The face that never leaves my head, not even for a second.
This is the face of every male lead I’ve ever written. Why? Because my brother is a real hero.
“Now check,” his eyes come back to me.
