Deflowered

Prologue

"Virtue has a veil, vice a mask."- Victor Hugo

Several voices failed to get his attention. He gave the flicker of a candle flame more notice than the guests at his table. He despised weddings, never understood them. One person for the rest of your life...And he had yet to meet anyone that fulfilled any vision of a wife for him. Well, he had yet to meet anyone who he could label good company for more than ten minutes. His mother was tolerable, his siblings less, and he hated his father. And always, there existed people who felt entitled to his time like the people surrounding him now. Like running a company wasn't time consuming enough, he had to manipulate a wedding already contracted to divorce in five years. If the bride wasn't a goddamn Australian beauty, he might feel bad for his cousin he paid to marry her. She was the daughter of the Australian Prime Minister and hopefully the key to granting his company the ability to drill down there.

He felt a strange feeling, like he was being watched but that wasn't rare. The media followed him simply because he was too private. If they loved anything it was a mystery. This feeling though was stronger, and he finally moved his gaze from the candle not for anyone from his table but for the woman that sat at the table opposite of his. Dark brown strands framed blue doe eyes and in a normal situation he expected her to drop her gaze, be embarrassed that he just caught her staring, but she just smiled. Her eyes crinkled at the corners and she bared all of her teeth. There was unnerving warmth that radiated from her smile. She looked so damn happy and usually he found the emotion nauseating, but with her she seemed genuine. He sat straighter as he realized she wore barely any makeup and she felt no insecurity about it. God, she was stunning. She was young, he guessed early twenties but she had this innate wisdom, a grace with the way she moved and spoke. It was her eyes, they seemed much older than her appearance.

She was interrupted by the blonde teenager sitting next to her as he held out his hand to dance. The inadequate looking male held her close as he led her out to the dance floor. Their intimacy disturbed him. She rested her chin on his shoulder, and they danced as if they were the only couple on the dance floor. Like they would last, he thought with a shrug and another swig of his drink.

"Mason." His nerves grated as his father occupied the chair next to him.

"Dad." The smell of scotch was strong, enough to permeate the entire tablecloth.

"Creative fix, son."

"I was taught well." It was as close to a compliment that he could muster.

"How about a wife for you now too? You're 32 Mason and a wife is an asset." He'd feel bad that his father used his mother for many business transactions if she didn't enjoy it. His family was so fucked that the mere labeling of a wife as an asset didn't faze him.

"I've done quite well without a wife, better than you even." Richard Kane didn't react often or allow his anger to show but that clenched fist made Mason smirk.

"Who will you leave your empire to?" Kids. The idea made his skin itch, and his head hurt. Children were also an asset, he couldn't remember how many times his father asked him to seduce the wives of men that had acted too confident. The son of a bitch was ruthless like that, not that he complained. Those pent-up housewives had fantasies upon fantasies to relieve.

"What? It's all on your brother to produce a family heir, someone to continue the Kane name? We all know how responsible he is." His brother Sam was either passed out already or banging the bride in the boathouse. To be honest, being the youngest, no one expected any different.

"He's probably producing one right now for you, and if you look hard enough I'm sure he has a blonde hair blue-eyed kid running around somewhere." His father clenched his glass of scotch tighter before wearing a smile and waving to a guest across the way. He was about to leave when he watched the young woman he caught staring at him earlier leaving the tent. Standing without acknowledging his exit, he followed her out, his curiosity getting the better of him. He found her date, socializing eagerly with some of the other guests.?He watched her stop in the grass, remove her shoes, and then continue with a beer in hand and her shoes in the other. She damn near pranced towards his mother's rose garden, looking like a dancing sun in her bright yellow sundress, and his feet moved before he could convince himself otherwise.