Taken - A Gangster Stepbrother Romance

by Adams, Michaela

  After spending most of the day running around in heels, Cora just wanted a comfy chair to relax in. But looking around, all the seats were an odd assortment of metal benches or stools that looked more uncomfortable than standing in heels. So with no other choice but to walk around, Cora sighed and walked.

  As she casually strolled, enjoying the short respite from incessant calls and voices, a flash of color caught the corner of her eyes. And it only caught her attention because of all the cool grayness in the building. Cora turned and gasped.

  It was a beautifully vibrant painting of blue irises. Set against a saturated yellow background, the thick blue and purple paint strokes shaped the delicate petals. The colors were almost loud yet the wilting flowers looked so gentle and limp. The colors were so vivid, the painting almost seemed to glow within the cold and gray office.

  Cora almost wanted to grab the flowers and inhale their scent. She wanted to rub each thickly painted petal. The heaviness of the paint against the delicate nature of its subject made Cora feel an oddly sad juxtaposition as she gazed upon the painting.

  Next to the painting was a small metal plaque reading, “Irises, Vincent Van Gogh 1890.”

  “Ah, your assistant has good taste, I see!” an accented voice boomed from the left of her.

  Cora quickly spun around on her heel. Julian and Francois were exiting his office. The older French man beamed at Cora as he gestured towards the painting. “Does the mademoiselle have a liking for Van Gogh?” he asked, his voice warm and rich.

  Cora blushed and shook her head. “I just appreciate how beautiful it is,” she murmured quietly. She peeked up through her lashes at Julian. He gave her a quizzical look. He must think me ignorant and foolish, Cora thought miserably. Quickly, she stepped away from the painting and bid Francois goodbye.

  As they got back into the car, Julian instructed the driver back to the hotel. “I’ll need to change for dinner. And you can take a rest,” Julian said, not looking up from his phone as he checked his messages. The dinner tonight was primarily a meeting dressed up with exquisite food. But it was a meeting nonetheless and Cora wouldn’t be needed for it. “But be ready by eight to go out again.”

  Cora was confused. “There’s nothing scheduled though, Mr. Benedict. You said you didn’t want anything after—”

  Julian nodded. “I remember what I said,” he replied shortly. The car pulled up to the hotel. As he got out, he called over his shoulder, “Be ready by eight.”

  Ten

  “Are you sure this is the right place?” Cora asked the driver as she stared out in awe.

  “Oui, mademoiselle,” the driver replied. “Mr. Benedict was very specific.”

  Cora gulped and without further argument, stepped out of the car.

  At exactly eight o’clock, the hotel front desk had called to let her know her car was waiting for her. Confused, Cora had come down to be greeted by a French driver who told her he was there to take her to Mr. Benedict. Filled with questions but unable to voice them, Cora had stepped into the car wondering exactly what kind of meeting she was going to.

  As the car drove off, she heard the soft lapping sounds of the Seine behind her. Lights illuminated the richly ornate building in front of her, making the whole place glow against the dark night sky. With large windows and beautifully sculpted arches, Cora was sure she was standing in front of some kind of palace or chateau.

  Amidst her awe, Cora caught sight of a white-gloved attendant by the front doors, waving at her. Cora waved back and quickly headed towards the entrance.

  The attendant smiled and motioned her in. “Welcome, mademoiselle, to the Musée d’Orsay. Please enter,” he said in a thickly accented voice.

  Cora’s eyes widened upon hearing the name. She was in a museum? But as she stepped into the cavernous hall, she saw no one inside. Looking down both sides of her, she saw rows and rows of paintings with scattered sculptures down the middle. Yet not one person was to be found. Except herself and the attendant.

  “If you’d please,” the attendant said with a smile, leading her down a large open space with arching glass ceilings. “Please head down this way towards the end of the hall.”

  Cora could only nod silently as she walked down the spacious hall, surrounded by the most famous paintings in the world. With each step she took, her eyes grew wider and wider.

  She had hardly had any exposure to fine arts growing up. But during her first year in New York, she remembered when the Museum of Modern Art had had a Free Admissions Day. Curious, she had walked in with no expectations of what there was to see.

  Cora ended up spending hours at the museum. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the paintings. Each work seemed to chip away and reveal a side of her own self that she had never known existed.

  With every painting, Cora experienced a different mood or mentality. She had never felt such peace as when she had seen Monet’s water lilies or such raw passion as when she had seen Pollock’s splattered paint. A whole new world of breathtaking beauty and exhilaration had opened up for Cora that day.

  And now here she was, in Paris, walking down the empty halls of a museum that held the world’s masterpieces. She could hardly believe it.

  So engrossed was she in admiring the works that she hardly noticed the figure standing at the end of the hall. She had to tear her gaze away from a Cézanne to look at the broad shoulders and long back of Julian Benedict. He was standing with his back to her, admiring a Rodin.

  If Cora had been shocked to find herself in an empty museum at night, she was flabbergasted to see Julian Benedict standing inside.

  “Mr. Benedict?” she said tentatively. She stepped towards him, standing next to him to admire the curved and supple work of Auguste Rodin.

  His eyes still focused on the marble statue, he said in a quiet low voice, “I’m sorry, Cora.”

  Cora’s head snapped up, surprised and confused.

  “I was wrong to have snapped at you last night,” Julian said, his eyes still taking in the sculpture. His strong jawline and long nose were so perfect, they could’ve been the subject for countless sculptures. But Cora’s breath was taken away when he turned his gaze upon her, his dark eyes warm and mingled with regret. “Forgive me?”

  “I—yes, of course, Mr. Benedict,” Cora said, trying not to stutter.

  “Julian,” he replied with a small smile. “Tonight I’m not apologizing as your employer. I’m apologizing as Julian.”

  Cora felt a warmth blossom within her. Emotions she hadn’t felt in a long time suddenly began to trickle through her. How did this man have such an effect on her? “Of course,” she breathed quietly. “Julian.”

  Julian’s dark eyes crinkled in good humor. He turned around and waved an arm across the empty hall. “Would you like a tour?” he asked, looking brighter now that he had gotten his forgiveness.

  Cora looked around, still unable to believe she had all these gorgeous works at her fingertips. “Is the museum closing soon? There aren’t any people around.” A tour with Julian as her guide would be wonderful but she was quite sure they would be kicked out soon.

  Julian put a large hand against the small of her back, leading her down one row of paintings. “The museum is closed. It closed about two hours ago.”

  Cora nearly jumped at this information. “Oh! Then how are—”

  “I saw you admiring that Van Gogh today,” he said, gently but firmly leading her on. “I had you cancel my plans for the evening so I could take you out to a late dinner to apologize for my atrocious behavior yesterday. But then when I saw how much you seemed to enjoy the Van Gogh, I decided to bring you here. I called the curator and asked if we could have a few hours tonight to enjoy some of the works.”

  “You called the curator….” Cora echoed faintly. She couldn’t believe that he had called the curator of a world famous museum just so that she could enjoy seeing the paintings privately.

  Julian didn’t seem to take notice of her stunned expression. “I know
you seem to have a particular fondness for Van Gogh but do you happen to like Manet? This one is one of my particular favorites….”

  And for the next two hours, Julian gave her one of the most enjoyable nights she had ever experienced. The man seemed to know everything about every painting. He pointed out beautiful detail work while also including historical tidbits and quirky biographical details. Cora found herself admiring Julian just as much as she admired the art.

  And Julian quickly realized how bright and sensitive Cora truly was. Although her knowledge of art might not be extensive, her interpretation was perceptive and genuine. He could see how she found a piece of each artist to relate with, therefore making each painting a more intimate and personal experience.

  As they gazed upon another glorious Rodin, Julian cleared his throat. “Tomorrow night, there will be a formal charity gala sponsored by JB Enterprises. I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me.”

  Cora was stunned. She had of course known about the gala. It had been part of her agenda. It was an event that would be attended by socialites and business magnates from all across Europe. But she was no fool. She had seen the newspapers and magazines parading pictures of Julian with gorgeous models and actresses. She had assumed he would be attending the event with someone of the like and had a hard time believing he couldn’t find a date more suitable than herself.

  “Um…are you asking me because of last night? I promise, I really do forgive you,” Cora said.

  Julian smiled wryly, as if she had said something deprecating. “No,” he replied. “I’m asking you because I’d like for you to attend the event with me.” His body was warm and she could feel his heat surround and hold her.

  Cora’s heart thumped. “Is it an event an assistant would attend?” She was quite sure she had never seen a picture of Trisha on Julian’s arm at any kind of public function like a gala.

  Julian turned towards her. Cora felt like she could get lost in the man’s eyes, so dark and full of depth they were. “No,” he said, his voice low like rolling thunder. He brushed his hand across her cheek. A smile creased his own stubbled cheek. “But maybe it’s an event a friend might attend?”

  Cora’s breath hitched as she smiled irrepressibly. A friend. “Yes. Yes, I’ll go,” she answered breathlessly.

  Eleven

  “I might’ve found a new trail. I can’t say for sure yet but I’m heading over to follow some new leads. It looks like Gloria Judson was in trouble with the law in Las Vegas. She hightailed it out of here as soon as the cops started sniffing around. I’ll keep you posted, chief.”

  The voice mailbox beeped then asked if he’d like to repeat the message or delete it. Julian lowered his phone.

  A new lead.

  It didn’t surprise him in the least that Gloria had tangled with the law. She seemed like a woman hellbent on self-destruction. But what worried him was Karen. He could only imagine the kind of chaotic tornado that child had been tossed into thanks to Gloria.

  Julian could feel the tenseness growing between his shoulder blades again. How much longer would this search take? It had already been four years now. He should’ve started earlier. Years earlier. But so much had taken up his time and consumed his energy, least of all being JB Enterprises. He had let others take away his focus and he had gotten distracted.

  Although Paulson’s message had been promising, he had had many false starts with Montgomery and had learned to keep his hope in check. As he pulled on his black suit jacket, he mentally shrugged away all darkness.

  He would not make the same mistake again with Cora.

  Something about her seemed to bring about a lightness, an ease within him and he wanted to enjoy it tonight. A smile played at his lips as he thought about her opening his surprise.

  Cora stared at the large open box on her bed. Inside, it contained the most gorgeous gown she had ever seen. A rich jewel green satin, the dress shimmered against the light.

  Earlier that day, as she accompanied Julian through his business engagements, Cora had wondered how she would possibly find something suitable for the charity gala tonight.

  She had only packed work appropriate clothes. And even those, she had quickly realized, were quite below the fashionable Parisian standards the other European assistants and even receptionists adhered to.

  Cora had been about to go downstairs to ask the concierge where she could max out her credit card to find an appropriate evening gown when there had been a knock at the door.

  A bellhop had presented her with a large box wrapped in a silky white bow. Attached underneath the bow was a small white card, reading, “I’ll meet you downstairs at eight.”

  Cora stood by the bed, freshly showered and in her soft hotel robe, as she gently stroked the expensive gown. She was almost too scared to try it on. It would undoubtedly be the most expensive item of clothing she had ever worn. But looking at it, Cora could tell it was perfectly her size.

  How did he know?

  Sucking in a breath for courage, Cora lifted the dress out of the box. Tonight she would be showing up to a highly publicized event on the arm of the Model Millionaire. She would be the one dancing and dining with Julian Benedict.

  With a flutter of butterflies, Cora quickly threw off her robe.

  Julian leaned against one of the hotel’s marble pillars as he waited for his evening’s date. He had no doubt in his mind who he would want to spend tonight with. No model or actress could capture his attention and his heart like Cora could and the proof was in his body. He could hardly stand still. He was actually eager to just see her. It was a feeling he hadn’t had towards a woman in a long, long time.

  A swish of green caught his eye. Julian raised his head to look upon the most breathtaking sight he had yet to see in Paris.

  The formfitting gown swept across her lithe figure, enhancing every alluring curve. The strapless neckline accentuated her swell of creamy breasts. And the jewel tone green made her skin glow like white silk. Julian’s lips twitched as his gaze met her face.

  Although she had never looked so beautiful or so regal, he could see it was still his Cora. Her short spiky bob feathered around her face, making her still recognizably Cora.

  Offering his arm, he smiled, “Shall we?”

  Cora’s eyes glittered. Julian had never noticed how green they were before. The gown brought out the softly muted green-hazel of her sparkling eyes.

  “Yes, let’s,” she grinned as she took his arm.

  Twelve

  The cameras had flashed like a blinding wave of light as Cora and Julian exited their limo. As they walked up the steps to a private gallery that was hosting the charity gala, cameras flashed and photographers shouted for one more pose, one more shot.

  Cora had assumed Julian would want to ignore such attention and head straight inside. Most of his public photos were of him frowning as he guided his date towards whatever event they were attending.

  But instead of leading her straight into the gala, Julian put an arm around her waist, stopping in front of the cameras to wave and pose. Cora tried not to let her jaw drop in front of the photographers.

  These photos would be posted worldwide within a matter of hours. She would soon find herself on the cover of newspapers and magazines. Did Julian know what he was doing? The press would immediately label her as Julian Benedict’s new mystery woman when in fact, she was just his personal assistant. He was making a terrible mistake.

  But when Cora looked up to warn him, he gave her a lazy, devastating smile. “A little camera-shy, are we?” he teased.

  Cora looked into his warm gaze. He did know what he was doing. He was doing this on purpose. As an irresistible heat bloomed within her, she gave him a glinting smile. “Not at all,” she replied softly as she very obviously leaned her head on his shoulder in a very intimate and public gesture.

  She could hear the paparazzi nearly climbing on each other to get a shot of the couple. Cora had wondered if Julian would immediately pull away but i
nstead he wrapped his arm even tighter around her waist, pulling her close. Cora’s smile broadened as she looked towards the blinding camera flashes.

  Inside the richly decorated gallery, chandeliers glittered across the room, casting a beautifully fantasy-like ambiance. Suited waiters flitted across the floor with trays of champagne.

  As they entered the dimly lit hall, Julian snatched up two flutes of champagne, handing one to Cora. Each with a conspiratorial smile, they clinked glasses as they drank.

  Cora felt like she was dreaming. The tin shack. Her mother. The empty bottles of alcohol. The stale and scavenged food. They all seemed like a nightmare that had happened eons ago.

  Tonight, with endless glasses of champagne and Julian’s strong arm around her, seemed like a wonderful dream that she hoped never to wake up from.