Chapter 100: First Meeting

The message arrived seconds later.

Whitmore Wealth Management. East Fifty-Fourth Street.

He considered calling Naomi. She might know why her aunt’s husband had suddenly developed enough interest in Dorian’s movements to hire someone to follow him around New York.

No.

Calling her after that argument would look desperate and needy. He didn’t need that assumption.

He certainly couldn’t afford that assumption. He locked his phone, climbed into the Mercedes and headed toward Midtown. He could ask Richard himself.

Much simpler.

When he got there, he entered through the revolving doors, crossed the lobby and checked in. Usually, when someone crossed one of his boundaries, courtesy became optional.

Today, however, he reminded himself that Richard was Naomi’s family. And considering how badly things had gone between him and Naomi over the weekend, arriving at her uncle’s office like an enraged lawyer looking for blood probably wasn’t going to improve his husband-of-the-year prospects.

So he behaved. Security cleared him, and Dorian took the elevator to the seventeenth floor. The doors opened onto a shared corridor.

He followed the signs until he arrived in the small office area that carried the sign WHITMORE WEALTH MANAGEMENT, and approached reception.

The receptionist looked up and immediately gave him a charming, professional smile. "Good morning. Welcome to Whitmore Wealth Management."

"Hi, I’m Dorian Heathcliffe. I’d like to see Richard Whitmore."

The moment Dorian gave his name, the receptionist’s face went noticeably pale. She had heard of him. Most people in certain circles had, whether through his legal work, the tabloids or the unfortunate national entertainment that had become his fourth marriage.

And also, very recently, Richard Whitmore had been unusually interested in Dorian Heathcliffe.

Obsessively so.

The receptionist recovered quickly and straightened in her seat. "Of course. I’ll just see if he is available."

Dorian gave her a polite smile. "Trust me, he is available. We are in-laws, after all."

She picked up the phone and called Richard’s office. "Mr Whitmore? Mr Dorian Heathcliffe is here to see you."

Silence followed.

The receptionist listened to whatever Richard said, then lowered the receiver. "I’ll show you to his office."

"Thank you."

She stood and led him through the suite. Dorian followed at an easy pace, taking in the space as they moved past the reception area and adviser workstations. Everything looked expensive, orderly and respectable.

Richard Whitmore clearly liked appearances. They continued down the hallway until the receptionist stopped in front of a door marked RICHARD WHITMORE.

She opened it. Dorian stepped inside.

"Mr Heathcliffe!" Richard got to his feet immediately.

So this was him.

Dorian looked around the office before finally letting his gaze settle on Richard. Everything carefully arranged to communicate success. He skipped the introductions. "Why are you having me followed?"

"I..." Richard’s expression shifted into confusion almost immediately. "I did not. Why would I do that?"

What impressed Dorian was Richard’s face. The man looked genuinely attacked.

"Really?" Dorian asked. "Mr Whitmore... come on."

"I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who has been speaking to you, but—"

"Out of respect for my wife, I will not force you to tell me the truth. But you sicced Grant Mercer on me," Dorian continued. "I am just returning from his place, and he saw the wisdom of not going toe-to-toe with me. So, I ask again, Mr Whitmore, why are you having me followed?"

Richard made a show of finally giving in. A small shake of his head. Inside, however, his mind was moving fast. He needed a reason.

A believable one. Something that explained why he had made the spectacular mistake of hiring a fool to tail the exact man Victor had warned him not to test.

"I..." Richard hesitated just long enough to sell it. "I wanted to know if you were merely playing with my niece. She left a perfectly good and capable man, ruining her life to be with you. I need her to see she is making a mistake."

"So, you thought by following me you would find what?"

Richard straightened slightly. "That you were unfaithful. That perhaps you weren’t taking this marriage as seriously as she thinks."

Dorian tilted his head. "You thought you’d find me with another woman?"

Richard gave a dismissive shrug. "Don’t all men cheat?"

"Speak for yourself, Mr Whitmore." Dorian stepped farther into the office, gaze moving briefly over the room before returning to him. "Are you this controlling of your wife’s niece’s life?" he asked. "Or are you just controlling in general?"

Richard bristled. "I care about her."

"Mm."

"I raised her. I will not watch her throw her life away."

There was something about the way Richard said it that bothered him. Ownership camouflaged as responsibility.

"A man like Callum Sterling comes along once in a lifetime."

"What is Callum offering you?"

Richard’s face changed. "Mr Heathcliffe, I find that question insulting."

Dorian could push. Normally, he would. He would keep going until everything ugly underneath spilled onto the floor.

But this wasn’t court. And more importantly, this was Naomi’s family. However much Dorian disliked what he was seeing, he did not yet know enough to blow the entire thing apart.

So he let it go. He slipped his hands into his pockets.

"I do not take kindly to being followed. If this happens again, we will then have a problem. And when I say problem, I mean I will invade your life with something akin to a colonoscopy." Dorian stepped closer. "Naomi is a woman of her own. Old enough and capable enough to make her own choices and her own mistakes."

"If she chooses me, that is her choice. If she chooses Sterling, that is her choice too. If she chooses neither of us, still her choice. And the only reason why I am being this easy on you is because of her."

"Let her go and let her live her life," Richard said. "Forcing her to stay married to you because nobody else wants to should be considered a crime."

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