I Crave You

Chapter 1

He started at his reflection in the gold mirror behind the bar in the old pub. It was not his face he saw, but the chains that bound him.

Defeat was maddening.

Especially for the ones who believed it didn't exist.

In the same mirror he saw the gold band on his finger as it sparkled, the metal cold against his skin. It burned his eyes, but he kept watching. Because it was reminder of what his life was going to be. A reminder that everything was going to change.

Today was the day he had been defeated. The day he'd thrown his cards on the table and accepted his destiny. He couldn't undo what he'd done. It wasn't a game of poker he could walk away from. It was as real as his existence. As real as his wealth. As real as the lies and betrayals that attracted it. All his life he'd been running. But there would be no more running. He'd made this bed and now he had to lie in it.

He looked away from his reflection, unable to bear the horror that threatened to blind him. He let out a sigh, pressed his fingers between his brows and called for the bartender. He needed to clear his mind. He needed another drink.

The barman came over to him and placed his scotch before him. "Your first time here?"

He bit back a swore.

He was in no mood for a small talk, but answered nevertheless, "Yeah."

He still wondered what had brought him here. To this austere little pub in Old Hollywood. On the weekend, the place was packed with a sea of people. Cheerful voices. Laughter. Drinking games. Tinkling glasses. Lovers in secluded bays. Alll competing with the loud karaoke roaring in the background.

His family would be caught dead if they knew he was here. He wished he could have seen Mr. Ross, his attorney's face if he saw him drinking cheap scotch with the so called 'low lives'. Perhaps that was why he was here. Though they were unaware, him being here alone was a gaint 'fuck you' to all those who expected him to be a perfect picture of royalty and sophistication all the time.

"Sean Martin, is it?"

His gaze flew to the old barman. "How do you know who I am?"

Of course he knew who he was. Wasn't it last month when his company had topped the Forbes list? Sean Martin wasn't just a name. It was a brand. A multi-billion dollar brand that he'd built.

"Not many people who come here wear Gucci suits and Armani loafers, man," replied the man, looking somewhat amused. The name tag on his shirt that read 'Jim' reflected light as he added, "Also you're on the news."

Sean looked up immediately. His gaze flew up to the flat screen television at the right side of the bar. Images of a car wreck filled his vision. Right next to the wreckage was his picture. The one that had been clicked last week when he was leaving the Four Seasons after attending a gala.

He felt blood rushing through his ears. His teeth clenched and the grip on around the crystal tumbler tightened.

Big bold headlines in red and blue taunted him. The content disturbing him. His fist clenched around the glass as if it would shatter it. All of this was in the past now. It didn't matter anymore. He'd done what he had to do. And he'd do it all over again. But watching this... this havoc. It was more than he could take. Not now.

He swallowed and forced the words out through gritted teeth, "Change the channel, please."

If the man was surprised, he didn't let it show. Instead, he grabbed the remote and flipped the channel. Football fanatics screamed into the camera lens as their favorite team scored.