by T. L Smith
Contents
Insolent
Warning
Blurb
Prologue
1. Darby
2. Darby
3. Darby
4. Olympia
5. Darby
6. Olympia
7. Darby
8. Olympia
9. Darby
10. Olympia
11. Darby
12. Olympia
13. Darby
14. Olympia
15. Darby
16. Olympia
17. Darby
18. Olympia
19. Darby
20. Olympia
21. Darby
22. Olympia
23. Olympia
24. Darby
25. Olympia
26. Darby
27. Olympia
The Letter
28. Darby
29. Olympia
30. Darby
Epilogue
TEXT
Also by T.L Smith
Acknowledgments
Insolent
“Showing a Rude and Arrogant”
Copyright T.L Smith 2019
Insolent by T.L Smith
Crimson Elite #4 All Rights Reserved
* * *
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
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Warning
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is intended for adults ONLY. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
Cover – RBA
Photographer- Wagner LA
Edited – Swish Editing
Edited – Contagious Edits
Blurb
Love had cut me in so many ways I wondered if my heart could take any more.
But then I saw him.
He was my boss.
A single father.
And to top it off he was insolent.
I didn’t intend to want him, that wasn’t my objective. But somehow I couldn’t say no.
We shouldn’t have worked, but like witchcraft, I was under his spell.
* * *
My heart had been destroyed before, I wasn’t sure it could handle heartbreak again.
Prologue
Darby
* * *
Three Months Ago
“No, it’s out of the question. You know that’s not how I run this business.” Creed scratches his head at my words.
“You need a fucking break. Take a fucking break and let us run it.” My hand touches the door which leads us into our place—my place. I fucking love it here. It’s been my home for so long now. I don’t know what I’d do without the club. I run it with three of my closest friends, each of us have our own part to play. Granted, I own the majority, but the club wouldn’t be where it is today without the rest of them.
Falcon retains our clients.
Creed employs the women.
Echo runs security.
I, well, I run everything else. It’s a partnership that’s worked for many, many years, and it’s the reason we’re one of the most sought out, yet unique, sex clubs in the world. We are elite, Crimson Elite, and we’re the most exclusive club you will ever find.
“You need a fucking break,” I retort back to him, making Creed scoff.
Creed’s a man who’s silent but deadly. He doesn’t like people, and people don’t usually like him back because they’re usually afraid of him.
“I just had one...”
“Darby…”
We both turn when a woman with dark hair walks in from the shadows. How long has she been standing there? I don’t notice a car, so I’m automatically on the defensive when I see her. The number of people we’ve fired who have come begging to get their job back is incredible, but we don’t allow second chances.
“Yes?”
Her hand touches her dark hair as she brushes it from her face. “You don’t recognize me.” It’s not a question, merely a statement.
She gazes down then up to Creed, who’s death-staring her. Well, that’s what she’d think, when in actuality it’s simply his stare.
“Should I?”
The woman bites her lip, looking up at me once again. “We met… a few months back now.”
“Look, I’m sorry… but you have the wrong person.” I turn to go into my building when she speaks again, “I poked holes in the condom that night at the Ritz.” Her words make me spin around instantly. Her hand falls to her belly, and I now notice an obvious bump.
Creed doesn’t say a word, but his hands are clenched firmly by his side.
She steps forward, and I view her face more clearly. I consider her closely and remember she was a good lay. But now, obviously, it was a bad choice.
“Look, this is—” she begins.
“Unexpected. Deceiving. Blackmail. What is it you want?”
Creed steps away and slips through the door as I square my shoulders and face her.
Fuck, what was her name again?
“The baby is yours. I simply want you to be a part of its life.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“You’re a smart man, Darby. You’ll add the dates and realize I’m not lying.”
“You could have fucked someone else the same night for all I know.”
Her face scrunches, and her bottom lip quivers. “No. And you’ll come to see that it’s the truth.” Her back straightens
“What is it you want—”
“It’s Cleo, Darby. My name is Cleo.”
“Cleo, right! Money. That’s what you want?”
She shrugs. “I will need help with the baby, set-up and such.” Cleo rubs her belly again. I want to groan, but instead I shake my head. “You can make me sign whatever it is that will put your mind at ease. That if this baby isn’t yours… I will have to pay it all back. Whatever money you give me, so I can buy this baby...” her hands touch her belly as she rubs it, “… whatever it is he or she will need.”
“Are you desperate?”
She doesn’t flinch at my choice of words or even how angrily I say them.
“You must be, woman. Don’t do this. Were you raised wrong?”
Cleo straightens her back and doesn’t bite back. “Can I have your number?”
“My number?” I gawk at her.
She pulls out her phone and hands it to me. Her small hands, with chipped pink nail polish, hold on tightly to the old-looking cell.
“If you’ll type it in it will be easier for me to call when we need something.”
“You’re serious right now, aren’t you?”
Cleo nods her head. “This baby will get everything it wants and won’t know a life of pain. You promise me you’ll never show this baby pain?” Her hand grips my hand, her nails dig in to the point they almost bleed.
“Are you off your meds?”
Cleo lets go of my hand. “You care for what it is you do. I’m banking on you caring for something you created as well.” She nods her head toward my phone. “N
umber, please?”
I enter my number and watch as she smiles and takes her phone back.
“One day you won’t hate me for this. You’ll see.” She smiles and walks off, leaving me standing there wondering what the fuck just happened.
“You fucked a crazy person,” Creed says from behind me. I didn’t even hear him come back outside.
“No. Fucking. Kidding. She wasn’t crazy when I fucked her.” I remember her now, she’s beautiful there’s no denying that. I was tired after finishing up a meeting, and she came up to me and started a conversation. It wasn’t anything important so I asked her back to my room, and she left the next morning without a goodbye. This is the first time I’ve seen her since.
“I’m laughing on the inside, just so you know,” Creed says walking away.
I run my hand over my face. What the actual fuck is happening? If I slap myself hard enough maybe I’ll wake up, or perhaps I should just get used to the fact that I could be a father very soon.
Too fucking soon.
1
Darby
I’m always so careful, so very fucking careful. And the one day, the one fucking day I’m not, it comes back to bite me in the ass months later. This is why I must have control, because if I don’t, shit like this happens. And shit like this usually doesn’t happen around me, and definitely not to me. But fuck if it hasn’t this time.
My mouth opens and has trouble staying shut as she screams—screams bloody murder into the room. Her eyes fall to me, and I wonder why she did it. Did she do it for some specific reason I’m not privileged to know? Because I would like to know. Fucking hell, I’d like to know. Right. Fucking. Now. I manage to shut my mouth long enough to step closer to her. Cleo’s hands are holding the railings of the bed, and she’s screaming. Will she ever shut up?
“Sir.” I glance up to the lady dressed in all blue, she nods her head to Cleo.
“Yes?” I answer waiting for more words. She is capable, right?
The midwife shakes her head. “Hold her hand, please.”
What the fuck? That’s the last thing I want to do, hold her damn hand. But I do it anyway. Stepping up to the woman who tricked me, I place my hand in hers. Cleo stares up to me from the bed. Sweat covers her face, and her eyes are sad.
Sad?
Why?
It’s not her that she tricked, it’s me. It’s my life she’s royally fucked down the drain. Did she even stop to consider what would happen to me when she played this trick? No. All she thought about was herself. Because that’s what selfish bitches do, and that’s what Cleo Vanderbelt is, a selfish fucking bitch.
“Darby…” She says my name as the midwife looks away from my hand now in hers. I shake my head, not wanting to hear what she has to say right now. I’m afraid if she asks me something, the words that leave my mouth might not be professional, or even fucking nice. “I’m sorry, Darby. One day you’ll understand.” Her face scrunches again as I stare back down at her while she pushes and pushes.
Honestly, all I want is to let go of her hand, but the midwife says something breaking me from my raging inner thoughts.
“Do you want to see?”
Do I?
No!
But I do anyway.
Cleo’s hand stays in mine as I step to the end of the bed and take a look. It’s not something I’ll ever forget. It’s not attractive or even something I wish to see again, but as I stare, I can’t seem to look away either.
“Okay, Cleo, one last push. Make this the big one.”
Cleo squeezes my hand, and I stand up to my full height as I go back to her bedside.
“Push,” the midwife says again. Cleo’s nails bite into my hand, and I know blood is being drawn.
Do I care? No.
This whole thing, it’s like I’m trapped inside someone else’s body. A part of me is banging on the inside asking for the escape route and knowing the answer is not coming. The other part is swearing like a mad sailor. Either way, all parts are in agreement that this isn’t where I’m meant to be.
“Darby...” Cleo says on a labored breath.
The midwife walks up to her and pushes me out of the way to check on Cleo. I step back, unsure of what’s going on while I look around the sterile room in confusion.
“One last time, Cleo, I promise.” Cleo nods. “You’ve done so well, okay. So, so, well.”
Something passes between them that I have no way of understanding. Cleo holds out her hand and glances at me one last time. I step up close, placing my damn hand in hers and stand there as she squeezes her face right up into a scrunch and everyone in the room is silent until a pop is heard.
“It’s a boy.” The midwife holds the baby up, not just any baby, my baby, and just as quick as I see him, he’s taken away. Somehow Cleo has let go of my hand, and when I turn to her, she’s white as a ghost, and her lips aren’t red anymore from the biting she was doing.
“Please step out of the room.”
I’m pushed backward, and doctors and nurses all run to Cleo. I turn to my left and notice my baby—the words ‘my baby’ sound weirdly foreign—on a small cot with a light over him. He screams while a nurse wraps him up in a blanket and checks him over. She turns to me and hands him over with a smile.
“He’s very healthy and beautiful.”
Hands touch my shoulder, pulling me back a step, then the door to the room where my baby was born slams shut. I don’t understand what’s happening. I have no idea what’s normal. But one thing I am sure of is handing a baby to a father and pushing him from the room isn’t normal. I sit down on the seat in front of the nurses’ station and just stare at him. He’s perfect. Too fucking perfect to be related to me, that’s for sure.
“What shall we name you?” I say to him as if he has an answer. Of course, he doesn’t, he just screams. People start rushing in and out of the door I was just shoved through.
“… too much blood. She needs more blood,” one nurse says into the phone. They don’t even bother looking at me with a newborn in my arms. “It was high-risk. She knew it but did it anyway.” This comes from the midwife who was with us during the whole birth. She stops when she sees me, pauses and her eyes flick to the floor.
So, I stand holding my son in my arms. “What’s going on?”
She gazes past me as Cleo is wheeled out from the room, non-responsive, on a bed and rushed past me with a doctor on top pumping her heart. “You weren’t aware?”
I stand holding my son in my arms, looking in the direction they have just taken Cleo. “Aware of what?”
The nurse gazes to the floor again then back up to me.
The baby stops crying.
“She has a heart condition. She wasn’t meant to give birth.”
Her words shock me.
Why didn’t she tell me that?
And why on earth did she get pregnant if she knew she shouldn’t have kids?
The nurse is called, and she runs away, leaving me sitting here with a brand-new baby in my arms and a mother who I don’t know will even survive the night.
2
Darby
Creed is pacing the floor in front of me, the baby is asleep in my arms. It’s been six hours. Six long hours. Not long after Cleo was taken away, they took my son from me to check him over and brought him back one hour later. Then they proceeded to show me how to feed and burp him and change his nappy. All the while, his mother’s in surgery, and I’m her next of kin.
How the fuck that happened I don’t even know.
“Sit,” I bark at Creed. He stops, looks to the baby and reaches for him.
I cling to him, not wanting to let him go. Not yet. He’s mine, I know he is. I don’t need any testing to prove it.
“You need to eat and move.”
I shake my head, but he keeps reaching for my son anyway and takes him from my grip. Just as he does, El walks in holding their child with a bag of food and hands it to me. “Eat, please. For me.” She smiles.
I open th
e brown bag and pick at the muffin which is neatly wrapped in a cardboard box, but food isn’t my priority right now. I want to know that Cleo isn’t leaving me with a baby, that all of this was a lie, and this nightmare is merely some trick she’s concocted to prove to me I am the baby’s father. I take the baby back from Creed, and we all sit and wait. It takes another two hours for the doctor to finally come out and let us know what’s going on.
“She’s in recovery.”
Those words are all I hear. I don’t care about the rest, not right now.
“Where is she?”
He stops talking and starts walking, so I follow him to a room. “You can’t go in with the baby.”
Creed is next to me and takes my son. I do as the doctor says and put on a gown and mask. Cleo’s so still when I walk in, she doesn’t move once. Her eyes are closed, and right now I want to see those eyes because they are the eyes of my son—blue as blue can be. I reach for her hand, placing mine in hers. She has tubes everywhere, and I’m afraid of what that actually means. What everything really means.
“When will she wake up?”
The doctor is gone and the nurse who’s checking her fluids glances to me then back out the door. “We aren’t sure. You should just keep praying.”
“I don’t pray.”