Hawke: Christmas in Paradise (Billionaire Boys Club)

by Ellie Masters

  “It’s my money,” her acidic tone continues, “not yours, maybe never yours if you continue with your insolent tone. We’ll invest as I decide. Not you.”

  “Then why have me look at the proposals at all?”

  I hate the way she undermines me. I hate being held under her tyrannical thumb. Someday, I’ll be free of her manipulations.

  There’s enough money in my trust fund that I could walk away. I’d have to work to make it stretch. I don’t, not because I’m greedy and crave the money. I stay because I can do so much with the power and reach Sterling Enterprises brings. I’m damn good at what I do.

  “Do as you’re told.” She gives another dismissive wave, but this time punctuates it with a snort. “But that is not why I wanted to speak with you.”

  “It’s not?” There is nothing but business for the two of us to talk about. “I have a plane to catch, so make it quick.”

  The gate attendant completes pre-boarding and begins boarding the first-class passengers. I should be on the plane sipping champagne by now. Instead, I’m shoved into a corner, speaking with a tyrant.

  “It’s Cherise.” She gives a stiff shake of her head.

  “What’s wrong with Cherise?” A chill worms down my spine. If anything’s happened to Cherise, I won’t survive it. “I spoke to her yesterday. She seemed in good spirits. Happy about her orchids.” Clueless about the time of year. She has no idea it’s Christmas, a time when most families gather together to celebrate familial bonds. Instead, our family scatters to the wind.

  Mother does her thing. I run away. And sweet Cherise takes care of her precious orchids.

  “Cherise is fine. It’s her future I worry about. One which needs to be decided.”

  I take a deep breath, glad everything is good with my sister.

  “And this involves me how?”

  Like me, Cherise has a trust fund. Bestowed on us both after our father’s death, it provides a modest income. For Cherise, it ensures her medical attendants are well paid. My sister lives a simple life, full of joy and little else, but then she’s stuck at the developmental age of a five-year-old.

  Mother taps the edge of her desk. The clicking of her manicured nails sends a shiver down my spine. It’s all I can do not to look away or fidget beneath her withering gaze.

  “You know what it involves.” She pins me with a look.

  “Is this really the time to bring that back up?” With great difficulty, I hold my temper in check.

  “There’s never a good time. You’re dismissive of your obligations.”

  “Obligations to whom? You?”

  She answers with a derisive snort.

  “The family name must continue, and that requirement rests on your shoulders. Your sister is incapable, which leaves you.”

  Me.

  The only heir to the Sterling empire.

  “We’ve discussed this.” There’s no way I’m tying myself to any woman, especially none of the purebred, feeble-minded, vapid socialites Mother’s presented in the past.

  “You refuse to see reason?”

  “I’m not settling down.”

  I’m not getting married. Not when I can have whomever I want in my bed with the snap of my fingers.

  Besides, women are greedy little whores who chase after the best catch they can snag. With Sterling Enterprises sitting on twelve-billion in assets, I’m a pretty fucking good catch.

  “That’s right. You’re still prancing around like a young stud, sticking your dick in anything with two legs, with no care about the family.”

  “Mother!” Her vulgar language is unexpected and completely out of character. My mother is perfectly poised to a fault.

  “Oh, don’t be a prick about it. You think I can’t say a few choice words. You’ve really left me with no choice.”

  “In this, you have no say. It’s my life, and I’ll live it as I please.”

  “It’s my life, my family, and you’ll do as you’re told.” Her eyes gleam in the way they always do when she has the upper hand and her opponent is, as of yet, unaware of her victory.

  Always conniving, my mother is one of the sharpest women I know. She’s likely the smartest person I know as well. And she’s definitely the most skillful at manipulating others into doing as she says.

  I’ve no idea what she’s going to say next, except I won’t like it. I hold my tongue and bide my time. She wants a reaction, but I refuse to give her anything. I’ve done all I can other than tell her to stay the fuck out of my life.

  The gate attendant begins general boarding. There’s no reason to rush to stand in line now. I’ll wait and be one of the last to board, and hopefully conclude this troublesome conversation.

  “You’re stubborn like your father, but you’re smarter than him. He knew not to irritate me with his bullheadedness.”

  “Is that what you think? I’m being bullheaded?”

  “I think you believe your little rebellious project is something I’ll ignore. Should I ask how many girls you’re planning to fuck? Using my name to satisfy your disgusting cravings.”

  She’s in a mood, that’s for sure. I’ve heard more curse words from her in the past five minutes than in the last two decades.

  “That is none of your business.”

  In an uncharacteristic move, I’m flying solo this trip to Euphoria. With the Christmas holidays, I’d rather spend them alone than with some nameless woman who thinks spreading her legs will open my bank account to an all you can have buffet.

  “It is when it affects the family, Hawke, that you force me to step in. You’ve had your fun. Euphoria is mildly profitable, but ultimately mine.”

  It’s wildly profitable and will never be hers.

  “It’s not yours. I own Euphoria. It’s free and clear of any of entanglements with Sterling Enterprises.”

  She takes a leisurely sip from a teacup on her desk. The years are catching up to Mother. Her raven hair is nearly gone. Her features sag with the fragilities of age. Her hand shakes, ever so slightly, as she sips her tea.

  Despite that, her hawkish gaze remains as piercing as ever and her acidic tone burns like always.

  “Let’s not bore each other by dancing around the matter. I’ll get straight to the point.”

  The line at my gate is getting shorter, but I still have time.

  “Please. This conversation is arduous enough.”

  I’m not happy with her intruding on my vacation. I plan on spending the holidays at Euphoria, where I can disconnect, forget about Sterling Enterprises, and most importantly, the frigid bitch at its helm.

  That’s what I consider the perfect Christmas present.

  “Then I’ll get straight to it. You loathe this family—me in particular—and you flaunt your disgust openly. I want to make it perfectly clear this little rebellion on your part will not continue.”

  I grit my teeth to avoid arguing. It does no good. Besides, she’s completely right, except in one aspect. I hate everything about her, but I love Cherise with every fiber in my soul.

  “What is it you want?”

  “Is it not obvious? We need an heir.” Her eyes gleam in victory, but I see no reason for that. While Mother controls nearly every aspect of my life, she doesn’t reign over that particular piece of it.

  “I’m not ready to settle down. When I do, it’ll be because I’ve found a woman of my choosing. Is that understood?”

  “As clearly as I hope you understand what I have to say. I’m dying, Hawke.” She gives a little flap of her hand. “Not that I expect you to care. You’ll probably spend the night drinking to your good fortune with the news I’ll finally be gone, but it doesn’t stop the fact that I am dying.”

  My mouth gapes. “Excuse me?”

  “Pancreatic cancer, and it’s advanced. I have very little time left. The doctors say six months at most, maybe less. It’s so pedestrian, don’t you think, to be taken out by something as common as cancer?” She gives a huff. “Nevertheless, it has forced me t
o ensure my affairs are in order, which I have done.” The look she gives speaks volumes. I’m not coming out of this unscathed.

  “Well, I don’t know how much you know about medicine, but it’s virtually impossible to provide an heir in less than six months’ time.”

  “Don’t be so crude. We’re talking about your inheritance, and your sister’s as well.”

  “We each have our trusts after father passed. You can do what you will with the rest of it. I don’t want it.” I might lose Sterling Enterprises, but I would be free. It is an exciting prospect.

  “No, I suppose you don’t, but Cherise needs it. She needs it very much. Sadly, her trust fund was never as robust as yours. Your father didn’t feel a woman needed the means to care for herself. Your sister will be penniless within three years’ time.”

  “Then leave my inheritance to her. I don’t want it.”

  “That would be the easy thing, wouldn’t it? But I can’t leave my money to a woman who is essentially a child herself. She’ll never marry and never conceive. Not that it matters. She does, however, need a guardian.”

  “I’ll always take care of Cherise.”

  “I know you will. I count on it.” Her words chill me from the inside out. “But there’s the issue of the will.”

  “Your will? Honestly, I’m not going to play games with you or jump through hoops to take what you’re not willing to give. Give it all to Cherise. She deserves it.”

  “Not my will, you fool!” Her voice snaps across the distance, and I jerk with surprise.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “If it were up to me, I would give her everything, but it’s not… Up to me, that is. Instead, your father buried certain conditions and clauses into his will.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s all yours. He gave everything to his only son. His heir. Which leaves Cherise destitute. Her trust fund will run out, sooner rather than later. With the bills for her medical care…” There’s no need for her to complete that line of thought.

  “You know my feelings for Cherise. I’ll do anything for her. If that’s what you need, my reassurance, then you have it. I’ll see that she lacks for nothing. Her life will be as wonderful and as full as it can be.”

  And I will shower her with the love and affection you never showed me.

  “If only it were that easy. Girls can’t continue the family name, and Cherise… Well, she’ll never have children. That would be a cruelty.”

  “Well, I don’t want it. Give it to charity. I’m doing well enough with Euphoria to take care of Cherise.”

  “You have no idea what you’re saying. No idea the cost her medical care incurs. I won’t have her quality of life degraded because you don’t have the means to care for her in the custom she’s used to. Not when it’s all right here. Just waiting for you to take.”

  “Then I’ll take it. After it passes to me, I’ll set up a trust for her care…”

  “You don’t get it, you silly fool. Don’t you think your father thought of all the ways his billions could be broken apart and squandered? How his legacy, his name, would endure? The money will go to you. It will stay with you, and it will pass from you to your son. You’re merely the guardian of the estate, like me.” She takes another sip of tea with shaky hands. “You’ll finally be free of me, but you won’t be free of your father’s plans for the future of our family. You will marry. You will provide an heir.”

  “And if this is not what I want?”

  “What you want is inconsequential.” She shrugs. “It’s all about tradition and heritage. You have the strength of character to carry on the family legacy. You’ve sure butted heads with me often enough to prove your mettle, and demonstrate your worth. In this, however, you will not prevail. You’re a force in the corporate world. You’ve demonstrated your ability to manage Sterling Enterprises, building its assets and our wealth, and as much as I detest Euphoria—” her eyes flicked up to meet mine, “—you’ve created something out of nothing. You’re a Sterling where it counts, but now it’s time to continue the family legacy.”

  The line for boarding is seriously short. I’ll risk missing my flight if I’m not careful.

  “I don’t see what you can do about that.” It’s a callous statement considering she told me she’s dying. I wish I could summon grief over the thought of losing my mother, but the only emotion I feel is relief. I’ll finally be free of her manipulation.

  “Obviously, it won’t simply be handed over to you. Too much is at risk.”

  “Ah, and here it is—the hidden hook.”

  “Don’t be vulgar.” Her expression pinches, but I see the victorious spark in her eyes. “As I said, the Sterling name must go on. That is the condition of the estate. Consider it my dying wish.”

  “You’re kidding me. You’re dying wish is for me to bear a son? A grandson you’ll never see?” She flinches at the jab, and I almost feel guilty about it.

  “I assure you, this is something you will give me. It’s very real. I’m told I have six months, maybe more, probably less, but within six months, you will marry. If you remain married long enough to produce a male heir, Sterling Enterprises will be yours. If not…”

  “What do you mean? Will be mine? It’s mine already.”

  “And that is your first mistake. You thought running the company meant you owned it? I can assure you that is not the case. If you refuse, I’ll divest Sterling Enterprises of everything, selling it off piece by piece.”

  “You’d never do that. You just said Cherise needs that money for her care.”

  “You’re correct. I said exactly that. Like you, she’ll be left with nothing.”

  It hits me like a lightning bolt, the true depravity my mother is capable of, and her determination to leave this life with her clutches firmly attached to my life.

  “You fucking bitch.”

  “Manners Hawke. I’ve taught you better than that, but then you’ve always been hotheaded and incapable of holding your temper in check. This is the way it will be. If you don’t marry before I’m gone, the Sterling legacy will be sold off to the highest bidder. If you don’t produce an heir within the first three years of your marriage, Sterling Enterprises will be ripped apart. You’ll lose everything. Although, you’ll likely survive. Your little pet project might endure, but you’ll lose all your wealth. With that, you condemn your sister to living out her life in some nameless state-run facility. Is that what you want for your sister?”

  “You would condemn your own daughter?”

  “That choice is in your hands.”

  “You evil, controlling bitch.”

  She gives an emphatic eye roll. “Yet again with the vulgarities. Not that it matters to me. I’ve sent a list of eligible young ladies who are amenable to a short engagement. I suggest you pick one. Your proposal should arrive no later than New Year’s Day, and we’ll plan a June wedding. It’ll be the social event of the season.”

  “Of course, you have a list.” No fucking way am I picking any woman off a list Mother prepared, and as for a proposal by New Year’s? She’s out of her ever-loving mind.

  “It pays to be prepared.”

  “And I take it my future wife must be one of these overly eager girls?”

  “I’m not a monster. You may marry whomever you choose. She must be fertile. You have six months to marry. Less than that, actually. I strongly suggest a proposal by New Year’s so we can properly plan the wedding.” Her head cocks to the side as she glances at her watch. “Now, I have other things to do. I’ll leave you to it.”

  “I bet you will.”

  The gate attendant calls out final boarding for my flight.

  Mother disconnects without another word.

  No, I love you.

  No, Merry Christmas.

  As always, my cold-hearted mother gives me nothing remotely associated with love.

  And of course, her timing couldn’t be more perfect to completely ruin the next ten
days. My plans of getting away from everything are now colored by her edict.

  Her dying wish?

  What a manipulative monster.

  I head to the gate moments before they close it. The gate attendant’s eyes pop when she sees me and round with interest.

  If I didn’t want to get on this flight, I’d be planted firmly between her legs in less than five minutes, fucking her brains out.

  Instead, I scan my ticket and board the plane. There’s still a bit of a line, but soon I’m at my seat.

  Except, someone’s sitting in it.

  Five

  Quinn

  A presence looms over me. “Excuse me, but you’re in my seat.”

  My eyes open and latch onto a molten golden stare. It’s the man from the shop.

  “Do you mind taking the window seat?” I point beside me. “I’m kind of a nervous flyer.”

  His heavy gaze sweeps to the window, then returns to me. “First-time flier?”

  “More like a terrified-I’m-going-to-die kind of flier.” I give a shake of my head. “I know it makes no sense, but I feel like I’m strapped in for my death.”

  He gives a low, sultry laugh. “I’m sure that’s not going to happen. You’re really afraid to fly?”

  “Terrified barely touches it, but I’m medicating.”

  “With tiny liquor bottles?”

  “Um, yes.” My eyes widen because he remembers me. I wiggle in my seat and retrieve the wadded up bills the cashier gave me. “I believe this belongs to you.”

  He stares at the bills, eyes widening in shock but also edged with a little humor. “Not many people would do that.”

  “I’m honest to a fault, and thank you, by the way.”

  The flight attendant comes up behind him. “Sir, we’re securing the door. I need you to take your seat.”

  “Of course.” My stranger carries nothing. No briefcase. No luggage. He looks like the kind of person who would carry a briefcase, and I wonder if I should ask what he does for a living.

  He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and smells delicious, like coffee and chocolate all rolled up in one with a dash of cinnamon and spice sprinkled on top.