Pandora's Pleasure: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

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Pandora's Pleasure: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance Page 27

by Vanessa Fewings


  “By going shopping without an escort?” said Theo.

  “Why, yes,” she faked a southern belle accent. “For starters.”

  Theo let out a huff and headed for the door with his head bowed.

  With him gone, Pandora stood before me with her arms folded and her expression taut.

  “Your parents called me,” I admitted. “They’ve expressed their concern. It looks like I’ve kidnapped you.”

  “You have.”

  My throat tightened with that accusation. “Want me to take you home?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “What’s going on with you? You’re worried about something. I can see it. Is it your dad? I know tomorrow’s not going to be easy on any of you.”

  “Galante might change his mind.”

  My heart squeezed at her need to deny the inevitable. I closed the gap between us, but she raised her hand to stop me.

  “No.”

  “I can’t hug you?”

  “If you hold me, I’ll tell you everything…and then you’ll stop me.”

  “What are you saying? What’s going on?”

  “This is the most important time of my life. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

  “You’re talking about us?” I stepped back. “We’ll be together. There’s no compromise. You know that, right?”

  “You’ve asked me to trust you. I need you to do the same for me.”

  “Pandora, you ditched your security. Want to tell me where you went?” I glanced at the shopping bags, which I now believed she had used as a ruse.

  “I went to a coffee shop.”

  This was good…Pandora was opening up. My only concern was why she went there alone.

  “You wanted to experience normality?” I reasoned.

  “You’re going to be late.”

  “If you need me to stay—”

  “You can’t, though, can you?” She arched a brow. “Optics.”

  “We’re mere days away.” I read her reaction and cringed. “What I mean is, they’ll focus on more important issues other than—”

  “Our suitability.”

  “We’re almost there, sweetheart.”

  “Damien, I need you to remember I fought for you, too.”

  I went to embrace her again, but she sidestepped me.

  She walked across the room to the window. “I’ll call my parents.”

  “What will you tell them?”

  “The truth. That I’m never going home.”

  “You must do what’s right for you,” I told her. “I’ve decided this place isn’t good enough for you. I’m going to find somewhere better.”

  “But not your home in Foxhall?” Her beautiful eyes reflected a terrible sadness as she read the truth in my face.

  “I’m in love with you, Pandora.”

  Her eyes closed as though the words were too much to endure.

  I moved closer. “I’m a selfish bastard for not helping you escape all of this and me along with it. But I want you…for keeps. I want us to make a life together. For the first time I can remember, my life is bearable.”

  “Oh, Damien.”

  I walked over and bent down on one knee before her. “Pandora Aria Bardot—”

  “You told me you’d never get on your knees.”

  I let out an exasperated sigh.

  “Oh, you’re…”

  “Yes. I’m asking you to marry me. Officially. This is me letting you know I’m not going to stop fighting them until you’re my wife.”

  “They won’t win,” she said softly.

  “They won’t win,” I repeated, gazing up at her, letting my love show.

  She tumbled forward into my arms and I buried my face against her belly. I felt the serenity my heart had yearned for, quietly worshiping this woman as mine. Her fingertips trailed through my hair to soothe me. This was how surrender should feel—no longer as a sense of loss but of gained freedom. There was no other place I’d rather be than here in her arms.

  But I had to tear myself away. She needed to see a show of strength, needed to see I had what it took to fight for us.

  Pushing to my feet, I grabbed my wallet and phone. “I’ll be home as soon as possible. Don’t wait up in case it’s late.”

  She gave me a wistful smile as I headed for the door.

  Leaving her alone after baring my soul felt like the hardest thing I’d ever done.

  Phoebe and I sat in the car holding hands until it was time. I’d only just gotten to know her, but already we’d bonded over these strange set of events. Both of us had so much to lose, but if it worked, we’d be truly free.

  Damien would have made it to the Fairmont Hotel by now. He’d be schmoozing with all those high-brow types. If he found out what I was doing, I feared it would mean the end of us.

  With that thought eating my brain, I repositioned my short-bobbed wig. A few days had passed since I’d met with Galante, but should he see me I needed to look different. If he saw me, it would mean everything had gone wrong.

  I could change my mind. Let those who’d found themselves on Galante’s list fight their own battles. But my dad was on that list, as was Phoebe and Madeline and her lover from all those years ago. Even a potential President was on that list, his first term hanging in the balance.

  It made me wonder about all the women in history who’d played their part in American politics, but had gone unrecognized.

  My mind went around and around assessing if this risk would be worth it. If I succeeded, careers would survive, lives might even be saved. If I failed, the damage would be irreparable. I, too, would end up as a name on Galante’s list.

  “Are you second guessing yourself?” Phoebe threw me a wary glance.

  “The consequences…”

  “I’ll get my life back.” She turned to face me. “Your friend will be protected.”

  She meant my dad, but she’d never know his identity. She probably suspected I was doing this for the Godmans, too.

  “Could we could end up in prison?” She squeezed my hand.

  “What?” I hadn’t thought of that…

  The alarm on my phone signaled it was time.

  Phoebe saw it and reached over to pull me into a hug. “Let’s do this.”

  We embraced like two sisters, full of hope and fear, clinging to one another as though waiting for the other to see reason and call it off.

  I wondered if we’d remain friends after it was all over.

  Phoebe got out of the BMW and walked toward Galante’s home.

  If I could just calm my racing heart a little, slow my breathing, this would all be bearable. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling. I hadn’t made my way into his impressive home yet and I already felt guilty.

  In the duskiness of evening, I regretted getting Phoebe involved and encouraging her to be a part of this crazy scheme. But deep down I knew this was the only way for her to ever be free of Galante.

  There was no choice, not really.

  On foot now, I made my way toward the house knowing security cameras would capture a person of interest in sweatpants and a hoodie making her way around the back of his property. I hoped this disguise would help me buy some time at least.

  I huddled on the back step of Galante’s home, waiting. Galante was important enough to have a high-tech security set up but I knew he didn’t have security guards patrolling his property.

  By now, Phoebe would be set up in the massage room.

  Chewing on a fingernail, I thought through the different scenarios. Phoebe being too scared to break away from the room to sneak to the back door to let me in. Or worse, her telling Galante about my plan to garner favor with him.

  What would Damien say if he found out what I’d done? He’d blame me personally if his father lost the election because of one girl’s mistake—mine.

  Minutes felt like hours.

  Finally, the back door clicked open.

  My heart hammered painfully against my chest as Phoebe ushered me in. Pausin
g briefly, I stepped inside and looked around to make sure this wasn’t a trap. Maybe I wouldn’t know until it was too late.

  I followed her down a hallway.

  She grabbed my arm. “Make sure the iPad has no sound. No beep, or anything.”

  “I know, I’ve got it.”

  She pointed. “His office is the last door on the right.”

  So far, Phoebe had come through for me. She really was brave, proving how much she wanted to get out of her dilemma. I needed to come through for her.

  She hurried back toward the massage room. I went in the opposite direction, walking softly until I reached the room Phoebe had indicated.

  Once inside, I rounded Galante’s enormous desk and searched for his iPad. Within a minute, I’d located his briefcase. Amongst a stack of envelopes in there, I found the sleek device. With no way of knowing the battery life, I plugged it in to make sure it had enough juice for when we needed it.

  Footsteps trailed past the office door and I ducked behind the desk and waited. Phoebe was going to provide Galante with a sixty-minute massage. At the thirty-minute point, when he was most relaxed, she would open the door to the massage room as a signal.

  With time being relative, it felt like I’d been in the office for hours, but only twenty minutes had passed. I unplugged the iPad and made sure the sound was off.

  My timing had to be precise.

  There was also the risk of bumping into other members of his staff on my way to the private massage room. Or even his wife.

  Peering around a corner to make sure the way was clear, I went for it. Forgetting to breathe, I scurried down the hallway, almost biting through my lip with dread.

  Finding the door ajar, I sucked in a deep breath and peered inside the room…

  Galante lay face up and was naked except for a towel covering his waist and a cloth over his eyes. His tall frame filled the length of the leather table. Phoebe’s hands were digging into his right arm as though working out a knot.

  I stepped lightly into the room.

  Phoebe glanced up at me and gave a nod to indicate she was ready. Then she continued massaging Galante’s right arm, looking as nervous as I felt.

  The scent of sandalwood hung heavy in the air. I’d be triggered by that smell for the rest of my life. It was a fear-inducing scent that would always remind me of the scariest moment of my entire existence.

  My hands were trembling so bad I was scared I’d drop the iPad on the hardwood floor. Phoebe seemed too terrified to make eye contact with me again. If this went wrong, she’d be destroyed by him.

  Kneeling at the center point of the massage table, I lifted the iPad and waited for Phoebe to bring Galante’s right arm toward it. She adjusted his wrist so it didn’t come in contact with the iPad. Then swept his wrist left.

  He raised his head. “Is that a draft?”

  The hair on my forearms prickled.

  “I don’t feel anything.” Phoebe’s eyes were wide with fear.

  Gently, she swept his wrist across the panel again. “I’ll check in a second, sir.”

  The iPad’s screen remained dark.

  Shit.

  “Again,” I mouthed to Phoebe.

  She shifted her attention to his hand, massaging his fingers. “You’ve got a lot of tension here, sir,” she said. “Let’s work it out.”

  He let out a sigh of frustration. “Yeah, well, if only people did their goddamned jobs.”

  “I know how that feels,” she said, cringing at her ridiculous retort.

  Again, I raised the iPad and Phoebe slid his wrist across the panel. The screen flashed on.

  We were in…

  Both of us stared at the blue colored screen as though still not expecting this to work. I had a minute, maybe, to search for the link to the BODI. I slid my finger across the glass, blood surging in my ears as I scoured the device for what we needed: the link to a file that was evading us.

  There it was.

  With another sweep of his wrist across the base of the iPad, the file opened. We had access to the BODI.

  Clutching the iPad, I tiptoed toward the door.

  Leaving Phoebe inside the room alone with that man felt wrong. But we were so close now to pulling this off. If we were lucky, this would be the last time she would ever have to be in that room with him.

  Heading back toward his office, I tried not to pass out from sheer terror.

  Breathing normally again back inside Galante’s private office, I returned to my secret hideout beneath his desk. Hands trembling, I checked the battery life and then cracked open the BODI.

  Names. Hundreds of them. Incidents attached to each one. A collection of scandals…of lives hanging in the balance waiting to be destroyed.

  Then I saw it—Phoebe’s profile.

  As promised, I wiped out everything that Galante had on her.

  I had fifteen minutes left to get out of here…

  Mouth dry, heart racing, I opened up Google and logged into my personal drive, tapping in my code to access the cloud.

  I checked the transfer time…sixteen minutes.

  I didn’t have that long, but I went for it anyway.

  I implemented a mirror scan in case Galante had a back-up file of the BODI stored anywhere. Finding none, I opened up a brand-new document in the cloud.

  And hit TRANSFER.

  I should have brought Pandora with me to the Fairmont.

  Her absence felt like a strike against me. All my life I’d done exactly what was expected, but I was over that now.

  In my alcohol-infused state, I studied the guests. They drank the booze my father had provided for them—champagne and hard liquor, while the hotel staff offered up a variety of canapés and confections.

  There were at least five hundred guests mingling in the ballroom, everyone networking their hearts out to forge the way for their own personal gains. Phones came out and heads went down between calculating conversations, the lights from their devices shimmering amidst the mass of bodies.

  I’d mastered the art of escaping to a quiet corner where I would hang out with those few sincere friends I’d made over the years. Though right now, I stood alone nursing a drink. Solitude didn’t reflect my ambition, I had plenty of that still left in the tank. This was about me wanting to fight for my own causes—the ones that lifted poverty off the shoulders of the needy.

  I would not be derailed.

  Sipping my Macallan, I reluctantly offered friendly nods to those who looked my way. With Pandora not being here, the event felt even more stifling than usual.

  “Hey.” Theo rested a hand on my shoulder. “How’s it going?”

  “Hey.” I gave a shrug.

  “It’s going well so far, right?” He looked around as though genuinely interested in the crowd.

  I arched a brow to reveal he’d triggered my senses. He knew I was on to him.

  “They asked me to do the deed.” He cringed. “Not sure why.”

  “Because I trust you?”

  That blow hit him hard enough to make him flinch. “Need a cigarette?”

  “I don’t smoke. I gave it up, remember?”

  “I know, but for some reason you’re always asking me if I have one anyway. And I have one.”

  “You told me I had to be strong during times of stress.” I looked over at him, noticing his frown. “What’s wrong?”

  He let out a frustrated sigh. “I have the piece they’re going to run in a few hours. It’ll explain why you and Pandora haven’t been seen together for a while—the fact that lately you’ve had to put some distance between the two of you. But it’s vague.”

  I glared at him. “Right before Real Nation runs its story on her dad tomorrow.”

  “I’m sorry, Damien.” He raised his phone. “Want to see?”

  “No.”

  “It needs your approval.” He looked apologetic.

  “They’re gonna have a long wait.”

  “There’s some movement on the Fairfield Project, I hear
.”

  Raking my fingers through my hair, I tried to keep my expression serene for any of the political influencers who might be watching. “Sure does sound like blackmail.”

  “Want to go outside for some fresh air?”

  My back stiffened. “The Fairfield Project will go ahead as planned, regardless.”

  “That’s what we all want, right?”

  “With a caveat,” I ground out.

  He gave me a reluctant nod; this was as shitty as it got. The fact they’d sent him was cruel to both of us.

  I threw my drink back. “Should I decide my relationship is over, my father’s team will be the first to know.”

  “That’s your answer?” He looked uncomfortable, no doubt dreading having to deliver such bad news.

  “And let them know I won’t be blackmailed with my own project.”

  “I’ll tell your dad you need more time.”

  “Tell him the truth, Theo.” I gestured to the barman for another Macallan.

  “Right.” He tucked his phone into his pocket. “Now I feel like crap.”

  “Why? Because you and I are best friends?”

  “I’ve always been your wingman.”

  “And I yours.” I slapped his back affectionately. “It’s because of you we’ve come this far, Theo. Just in case no one ever tells you, thank you for all you’ve done. You’re a good man.”

  “I don’t feel like it.” Theo walked away, navigating the crowd to find wherever the team had hunkered down in this big hotel, scheming and making plans that seemed to always benefit everyone else.

  In four days, my father could very well be announced as the next President of the United States. The polls were looking too favorable to deny the possibility of him sitting in the Oval Office by early next year. The Godmans were about to step into history and leave a mark so indelible I’d have a book to add to my history collection about us.

  The Godmans’ speeding train had left the station and there was no getting off. On Tuesday, the polls would open, and our family would gather to watch the number of votes coming in, right alongside the American people. Soon after, the calls would pour in from leaders around the globe congratulating my dad and welcoming him to the world stage.

 

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