Billionaire Ever After

by Blair Babylon

  Stoppard’s scowl twisted into rage.

  A gap in the coarse blanket allowed her to get one arm out, but she kept the other hand down to protect her stomach.

  Stoppard shouted, “She has the strength of ten men! This is proof that she is possessed!”

  “No. Your stupid blanket method just doesn’t work.” Her sweaty hair clung to her face.

  “Keep her down! Begone demon!”

  She spoke directly to Levi, who was hanging onto her right arm, “You know that this is ridiculous. Get them to stop it.”

  “Get thee behind me, Satan,” Levi said. He glanced at the minister. Rae thought that she saw a flash of indecision, but he shook his head. “It’s not ridiculous,” he said. “Your father wants to save your soul from Hell.”

  “You kidnapped me!”

  “You got in the car yourself,” he said.

  “You’re kidnapping me now. I want to leave, and you’re holding me down.”

  “It’s for your immortal soul.”

  “My immortal soul is fine. Let me go.”

  He whispered, “I can’t.”

  Because Stoppard would turn people against him.

  Stoppard had a stranglehold on her whole family, that bastard.

  Rae shoved the blanket down her chest with her free arm and writhed, pushing with her hips and swimming with her legs to wriggle farther out of the blanket.

  “Hey!” Her father jogged toward her, his ranch-strengthened hands coming at her.

  Damn it. This could go south very quickly.

  She pointed at him. “Stay back. Don’t you touch me.”

  He hesitated, which was enough time for Rae to slither out of the blanket to her waist.

  Levi grabbed her arm, but she was prepared for that and twisted hard toward his fingers, snapping her hand away from him. His nails scratched her wrist as she broke his grip. Lines burned on her arm.

  He slapped her arms, trying to grab her again, but he had let go of his side of the blanket.

  Rae kicked, flipping the blanket off herself while her other cousin tried to grab her, too. She jabbed her feet at both of them as she crawled on her arms, trying to scramble away from the blanket and the two looming cousins.

  Levi grabbed her arm again, and this time, she couldn’t break away.

  “Lay down,” he snarled. “Lay down so I don’t have to hit you.”

  She shoved harder at his hand and blasted a scream from her throat, praying that someone outside the conference room could hear her.

  “Stop!” Levi lunged at her, his hand flying at her face, trying to cover her mouth now rather than grab her arms. Footsteps clomped as more people ran over to help him.

  “No! Stop!” She had to get away before they hurt her or the baby. “Let me go!”

  Levi scrambled, falling on her, pinning her to the floor and trying to cover her mouth. He clamped his hand over her mouth, cutting her screams down to whines.

  Rae tried to suck air, but Levi’s hand was over her nose and mouth, and his weight pressed her chest.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  God, please God, not the baby.

  She snapped her teeth, trying to bite his palm, but his hand was bowed and she couldn’t reach his flesh.

  Stoppard materialized above her, screaming something. Spit flecked out of his mouth and sprayed her face.

  Rae blinked hard. She got one arm loose and batted at him, trying to knock him away.

  He slammed his palm into Levi’s hand over her mouth. Pain dug into her cheek and jaw, cracking on her teeth. The tang of blood filled her mouth.

  A crash, and Levi’s eyes went shocked-wide as he careened sideways.

  Stoppard’s face snapped around, and a fist took its place.

  Black forms swarmed into the room, streaking toward her father and uncles, yelling “Get down! Get down on the floor!”

  Rae sucked air as Wulf swam into view, a snarl twisting his mouth and rage narrowing his dark blue eyes. His hand reached for her, grabbing her arm, and she was off the floor and leaning against his strong back as he walked backward, a small gun in his other hand.

  She peeked over his shoulder. Hans, Friedhelm, and other men were standing over her cousins and the other guys lying on the floor, pressing pistols to the backs of their heads or covering several men by weaving their guns through the air, aiming at one of her prone uncles, then another.

  “I’m okay,” she whispered to Wulf. “It’s all right. I’m okay.” She pressed the side of her face against his back, the fabric of his suit soft against her cheek.

  He kept her behind his back with one arm as he trained the pistol on one of her family, then another. His voice was calm as he asked her, “What was going on here?”

  “It was just a thing,” she said.

  “A thing?” His voice rose slightly from its rumbling, deep-bass timbre.

  Stoppard’s voice was muffled because Hans was mashing his face flat on the dirty carpeting with his boot. “This is assault! Let me go.”

  “Let him up,” Wulf said.

  Hans stepped back, holding his handgun in both hands and training it on the minister.

  Wulf called over to him, “Explain this.”

  “She’s possessed by a demon!” Stoppard shouted again, pushing himself up on his arms. “We were trying to free her!”

  Rae wished she could melt into a puddle on the floor and soak into the carpeting to hide.

  Wulf’s gaze swept over the ritual candle and bell on the floor, and he turned his head toward Rae, though he kept his gun pointed at Stoppard. “An exorcism?”

  “Yeah,” she sighed.

  “She’s possessed by demons!” Stoppard yelled.

  Rae pressed her hands over her eyes. Exhaustion weighed on her.

  Wulf asked, “Did they hurt you?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Not really.”

  “Your mouth is bleeding.”

  “I’m okay,” she insisted.

  “I heard you scream.”

  “I was just scared. I’m okay now.”

  Wulf’s glare suggested that he didn’t believe her in the slightest. “Dieter,” he said, looking over at her cousins. “Take her.”

  Rae looked up, staring around, until she found him. Dieter was there, the fluorescent lights glinting on his blond hair and solemn purpose filling his gray eyes. He took his boot off the back of Levi’s neck and trotted toward her. He stood beside Wulf and reached for her, gathering her behind him, still watching the situation.

  Rae let him transfer her. Wulf must have a reason. She just wanted to leave.

  Wulf said to Dieter, “If anyone moves toward her, shoot him.”

  “Should I warn them first?” he asked.

  “I just did.” Wulf glanced back as he walked toward Stoppard, who struggled to his feet. The cold anger in Wulf’s dark blue eyes scared her.

  Rae steadied herself by laying one hand on Dieter’s back, and he stepped backwards toward her, his arm swinging back to shield her more.

  Wulf clicked the safety on his gun and shoved it in the back of his waistband under his suit jacket while walking over to Stoppard, stepping around her cousins sprawled on the floor. A livid red mark flamed on the side of Stoppard’s face.

  Rae whispered to Dieter, “We should go. I just want to go home.”

  “One minute,” he said, still watching Wulf and the other men. The safety was still down on Dieter’s gun, and he aimed it beyond his toes.

  Wulf reached Stoppard. “You thought to exorcise devils from her?”

  “She’s possessed,” Stoppard hissed through his teeth. “We’re trying to save her.”

  “There is nothing to save her from,” Wulf said, stepping back. “This farce is over. We’re leaving.”

  “You can’t!”

  Wulf strode back toward her, his jaw bulging at the sides.

  Rae sagged with relief. They could leave now. They would all leave and everything would be all right. Her other hand still rested on
her stomach.

  Stoppard yelled, “You have to leave her with us! To finish the exorcism!”

  Rae watched over Dieter’s shoulder as Wulf neared them. Dieter aimed left of Wulf, at the minister.

  Stoppard pulled his lips back from his teeth and yelled, “Even your family thinks you shouldn’t marry her!”

  Wulf stopped walking, and his dark blue eyes slid sideways.

  Rae called, “Wulf, don’t listen to him. Let’s leave.”

  Betrayal

  Wulf turned back, his shoulders tense in his black suit jacket. The dank conference room stank, rank with angry male sweat from hours of screaming at his wife. He rounded on Stoppard. “What did you say?”

  “Even your family—” Stoppard repeated.

  Wulf strode back, his heels hitting the carpet hard. “What did you say?”

  “—thinks you shouldn’t marry her!”

  Wulf grabbed Stoppard’s collar in both his fists, their faces inches apart. The harsh overhead tube lights glared on the grease on Stoppard’s face. Wulf swore that he could smell bacon. He growled, “What did you say about my family?”

  Stoppard said, “They think she’s a slut and a gold-digger, and they’re right.”

  Wulf dropped the minister’s collar. The sick rage that had boiled in his belly since he had seen Stoppard standing over Rae uncoiled and raced through him.

  Stoppard shouted, “She’s only after worldly things and—”

  Wulf slammed the hard bones of his fist into Stoppard’s mouth.

  The minister fell to his hands and knees, his head weaving.

  Blood trickled on Wulf’s throbbing knuckles. He had been tempted to punch the man in that church a few months before, and it was satisfying to finally feel the minister’s bones and skin crunch under his fist.

  Only civility restrained Wulf from kicking the man while he was on the floor. He growled, “Stand up.”

  Stoppard spat blood on the carpet and said, “They called her father and told him to do something to stop the wedding.”

  Wulf grabbed the back of the minister’s collar with one hand and dragged Stoppard back to standing. “Who called you?”

  “I don’t know! They called her father!”

  Wulf dropped Stoppard and found Rae’s father, Zachariah, lying on the floor with Luca straddling him, his gun pointing at Zachariah’s head.

  Rae called Wulf’s name again, and he glanced over. Dieter had reached behind himself with one arm to keep her safely behind him.

  Wulf hauled Zachariah Stone off the flat carpeting and held him by his collar, perilously close to strangling him. “Who called you?”

  “He said he was a relation of yours,” Rae’s father said. “And he said your name was Wulf, not Dominic. You lied to us.”

  Wulf’s neck and face burned with anger. “Did he give you his name?”

  “Philipp.”

  Wulf’s temples pulsed in time with his heart.

  His own father.

  Wulf’s father had contacted Rae’s family and foisted his poison on them.

  How the hell had he known where to find her family?

  He forced his hands to unclench and release Zachariah though he was tensed to punch him.

  Zachariah Stone stepped back, rubbing his throat. Luca shoved Stone’s shoulder until he was on his knees again.

  Wulf walked back toward Rae and Dieter. Her sweet brown eyes were huge as she looked over Dieter’s shoulder at him. “I can’t believe it,” she began.

  “I will make sure this never happens again,” Wulf said, blood still rushing in his head.

  “Let’s just go,” she said. “I want to go home.”

  Wulf took her under his arm, protecting her from anything that might happen behind them. He muttered to Dieter, “With us,” and announced to the rest, “One minute. Upon my mark, exit.”

  “Any other instructions?” Luca called.

  Wulf surveyed the evil, evil men in that room who had abused and injured his wife, all on their knees or flat on the ground. Stoppard was holding both sides of his face.

  Wulf’s lip curled. “No. Meet at the cars.”

  Dieter followed them out, walking backward and covering the room with the gun. Wulf drew his own gun and clicked the safety off, holding it beside his trouser leg.

  He held Rae around her shoulders until they were safely in the SUV’s back seat. He cradled her to himself as Dieter climbed into the front passenger’s seat. Leandro, in the driver’s seat, slammed the car into gear.

  “Wait for the others,” Wulf told him. Into his phone, he said, “Exit now.”

  Within five seconds, his men thundered out of the door, running flat out for the cars. As soon as three filled the back seat, the doors slammed. The SUV jumped as Leandro floored it.

  Wulf glanced back. Two snipers sprinted from the parking lot and reached the other SUV as the rest of the entry team exited the hotel. The other SUV pulled away from the curb behind them.

  Only then, Wulf relaxed.

  When Rae started crying against his shoulder, he murmured to her, trying to console her, finally remembering to switch to English. “Reagan, everything is all right now. You were tricked, yes?”

  She nodded. “Hester said that my mother was in the hospital, that she’d had a heart attack.”

  “We have you. You’re all right now.”

  “I didn’t think they’d lie to me. I never thought they’d do something like this.”

  He stroked her hair, unwilling to tell her to be more callous, more calculating. “You can’t leave your security, not even for a moment, not even with someone you trust. There are too many things that can go wrong.”

  She nodded against his chest, and the SUV rocked them together as they drove through the city and into the hot afternoon sun.

  Traffic clogged the hot desert roads, baking the asphalt under the tires. Leandro drove them toward Wulf’s house for an hour, blocked in by trucks, cars, and SUVs.

  Rae sobbed against his shirt the whole time. Wulf stroked her hair, trying to comfort her. He had raised his sister Flicka through her teen years, so he knew when to comfort but not to pressure.

  She finally said, “I’ve never seen you so angry.”

  His face warmed in the Southwestern desert sunshine. “Oh, no. I never get angry.”

  “You sure looked angry.”

  “I was concerned,” Wulf said.

  She hiccuped. “I hope you never get that concerned at me.”

  He stroked her hair. “Never.”

  Back at the house, Wulf installed Rae at the kitchen table with a glass of orange juice to wait for the cooks to fix her a sandwich.

  He shook Dieter’s hand as they walked back to the garage.

  Dieter said, “Next time, ‘Wait until we have secured the room,’ means for you to wait outside.”

  Wulf ignored him. His legs had carried him into the room when he had heard Rae scream. “You will bill us for today?”

  Dieter frowned at him. “God, no. Your wife was kidnapped.”

  “I insist. This was a professional service. If I need you again, I don’t want to have reservations about calling on you.”

  “I’ve never thought of you as having reservations about anything, Durchlaucht.”

  Wulf shook his head. “You’re running a business. You can’t provide services gratis to people who, by all rights, should be your clients.”

  Dieter shrugged.

  Wulf had advised Dieter when he had developed his fee structure and helped him with his business arrangements. “I’ll double your customary fees and deposit it in your accounts if I don’t receive a bill.”

  “You do use money as a weapon, don’t you?”

  Oh, if he only knew the extent of it. Wulf said, “The plane will surely leave tomorrow. I’ll text you the itinerary when the flight plan is filed.”

  Dieter grimaced, and he practically snarled, “I’m sure my wife will be delighted when I tell her the trip was delayed. Who’s staying at Sch
loss Southwestern during the wedding?”

  “Hans volunteered.”

  Dieter nodded but said nothing, his gray eyes as flat as cold, alpine rain. He slapped the garage door button and walked to his car.

  Back inside, Wulf pulled Rosamunde, his house manager, aside. He said, “We’ve had a problem.”

  “There were shots fired? Someone has found you?” Her voice rose to nearly a shrill pitch, one of the very few times that Wulf had heard that from her.

  “No,” he reassured her. “No guns. I’ll explain later.”

  Rosamunde glanced back toward the kitchen door. “Is she all right?”

  “She’s hungry. Shaking. Deeply upset. However, we will need to retain a moving company to remove my father from Schloss Marienburg to the house in town.”

  Rosamunde glanced at the floor. A dark gray strand fell from her messy bun to rest on her cheek. “That will be a formidable job.”

  Wulf had stolen Rosamunde from his father while she had been the manager of Schloss Marienburg, the Gothic revival castle of his ancestors, where his father chose to live. “Will this be a problem?”

  Rosamunde drew herself up. “See to your wife. I will take care of the rest.”

  They went back to the kitchen.

  Rae was already eating a chicken sandwich with sliced fruit. Bloodshot veins traced the whites of her eyes, but she ate steadily. Their chef, Yvonne, stood over her, watching every bite.

  Ah, German efficiency. Wulf smiled and sat beside Rae, stealing apple chunks from her plate.

  Yvonne turned her thin face toward him. “I saw Dieter eat the lunch I set out for you. Did you eat anything?”

  He shrugged.

  “It’s tea time. Good Lord.” Yvonne bustled off to make him a sandwich.

  Wulf whispered to Rae, “You’re holding up admirably among the staff.”

  Transparent tears swelled on her lower eyelids. “We missed the flight. We’re not going to Switzerland. I messed everything up.”

  “We’ll refile the flight plan for tomorrow. I’ll text Flicka to have her rearrange some things. There’s nothing to worry about.” He leaned closer to her. “Eat. You need some rest. Let’s go upstairs.”