The Bluegrass Billionaire Trilogy: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Box Set

by Alice Ward

I was beside myself with worry. Worth said little, but I could tell he was concerned as well. We both knew that eventually Worth was going to have to return to Kentucky to tend to business and there was no way I could handle twin babies as well as a young teen who was determined to be wild and harmful. I insisted the babies sleep in bassinets in my room just because I was afraid Ford might harm them.

  Worth had stayed as long as he could but needed to return to Kentucky for at least a week to get things caught up. He decided to take Ford with him. They left on a Monday morning, close to Halloween. They landed in Louisville and went straight to the clinic. Worth was in his office making phone calls when a commotion got his attention. He opened his door and heard women screaming from the opposite end of the clinic. By the time he got there, Ford streaked past him. One of the attendants came out and told Worth that Ford had gone into the ladies’ hot tub and massage area and was making obscene gestures and comments to the naked guests. Worth turned and strode down the hallway to find Ford, but he’d run out into the parking lot and was missing.

  Worth called to tell me not to worry, but that Ford was on the run and to let him know if I heard anything. I wanted to jump on a plane myself but knew there was nothing I could do but wait. Worth called Bill Daughtery, and Bill told him to call the police. It was time to get the authorities involved.

  It was horrible.

  Ford caused a wide path of uproar as he travelled. He walked into stores and grabbed things before running into the parking lot. He picked up landscaping rocks and smashed them into parked cars, setting off alarms and breaking glass, in addition to causing sizeable dents. Worth was driving up and down the street, following the sound of alarms, trying to track Ford down.

  The police caught up to him first and arrested him as a juvenile and took him to detention. They called me first and then I telephoned Worth. Worth hired an attorney but the judge felt Ford was a danger to himself, as well as others, and held him in detention. Worth contacted Tyler Peterson who went to visit Ford and came back with dire observations.

  “Your son is deeply disturbed, Worth. I’m sorry. He declared in front of staff that he wanted to kill himself and anyone who got in his way. He needs a thorough examination by several doctors specializing in adolescents. I would also recommend a physical exam to be sure to rule out tumors or neurological causes. I’m sorry, Worth, I wish I had better news to report. You’d better get the best in on this — you’re going to need it.”

  Worth relayed all this to me. We had sworn honesty to one another and although it pained me to hear it, I knew it pained him more to tell me. We decided he would stay in Louisville indefinitely until he got Ford straightened out and that I would stay in Florida with the twins. We couldn’t risk whatever mania was in control of him.

  It was the saddest, loneliest holiday season I could ever remember. My son needed me and there was nothing I could do to help him, not even be by his side. It was too dangerous for him to be near the little ones. They needed me, too, and perhaps even more. I wanted Worth to be with me, to assure me that everything would come out alright, but he could give neither the assurance nor the companionship.

  Dad and Margaret tried to cheer me up, but I could tell they were just as frightened as I was. How was it possible that an adolescent boy could hold all these adults, especially authorities, hostage? My son had become a part of the system. Any efforts on Worth’s or my part now to remove him from their custody would result in our being prosecuted as unfit parents and child protective services would take him from us, perhaps permanently.

  The winter dragged and the golden Gulf held no magic for me. I tended to the twins who were already curious and starting to be mobile. Margaret and I took them for long walks in the sunshine in a double stroller, but our hearts were always heavy.

  Worth finally flew down for a three-day weekend in late February. Margaret watched the babies while he and I went out to dinner. We chose a quiet little place where we could talk.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” I said and he nodded, his fingers stroking the back of my hand.

  “I know, sweetheart. I don’t know what’s going on — where this all came from all of a sudden.”

  I linked my fingers with his. “Worth, be truthful. We’ve seen it coming. There have been signs all along the way. There’s something wrong with him and as long as he had our full attention, he wasn’t triggered. But now he has to share us with his siblings, with the businesses, the development — he’s acting out. We can’t watch him closely enough.”

  “They’re talking about keeping him in confinement at the boys’ home,” Worth told me and my heart felt like it would break in half. He was such a beautiful young man, but all the money we had wouldn’t buy him happiness.

  “Is there somewhere better to put him that the judge would accept?” I asked. “Maybe a facility here in Florida where I could visit?”

  “No, first the judge won’t let him out of his jurisdiction. Second, you’ll be coming back up to Louisville very soon and then he’d be down here alone. Third, the facility up there is at least monitored by people I know. I don’t have any connections down here.”

  “Worth, what do you think we should do? If he weren’t your son, what would you recommend?”

  I knew that question hit him hard. He took a deep breath and said, “I would have him committed.”

  The words were like a punch to my gut and it took me several seconds to respond. “Oh my god! I had no idea we were to that point! Is it really as bad as all that?”

  “I’m afraid so, Auggie. The only treatment he responds to now is complete sedation. That means he cannot learn, cannot take part in group sessions. He can’t even hold a conversation with the doctors trying to examine him. Auggie, I can’t let you and the babies come back unless he’s confined. He cannot be trusted, not by anyone. He has a death wish.”

  I didn’t want to hear the words but if Worth had said anything less, I would have accused him of lying. I knew my son. I had seen the lack of empathy; the cold, selfish way he treated the world. He didn’t fit in. He was lost to me, for the time being at least.

  “Is there a possibility he’ll outgrow it, Worth?”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart. It happens, I suppose, but it’s rare.” He lifted my hand to his lips. “Time will tell.”

  EPILOGUE

  Worth

  It was, without a doubt, the saddest day in my life. My first-born son was being locked away from me, his mother and the rest of his family. He’d been examined by the top men in the field and they all said the same thing. “Confine him and pray for time to change him.”

  There was a facility outside Lexington that was reserved for youth. I was afraid for his safety. The boys there were all problem children, some of whom had murdered. Ford was a novice, an innocent and unless they kept him separate from the general population, he would eventually have a confrontation. I only hoped they kept him with gentler patients, but I had no control over this.

  I’d tried to reason with the judge. I’d offered to build a special building where Ford could be watched 24/7 by personnel and taken care of by a nursing staff. The judge, who had been one of my father’s victims, refused and I was stuck with his opinion.

  I brought Auggie and the babies back in late April. There was no joy in this trip, in the progress on our new house or in the fact that it was springtime and Derby was upon us. I knew that she drove to the youth home at least twice a week and sat outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of him through a barred window. Social workers were in charge and they said they thought it best if we not visit him for a while. It seemed he was harboring a great deal of hatred for us. How do you deal with that? How do you justify when your own child hates you?

  There was nothing to do but to concentrate on the little ones. They were growing rapidly and keeping Auggie busy. I had my other things to attend to, and the time I had left, I spent with Auggie and the babies.

  Moving day was set for mid-summer. Walter and Mother
had come up and we were going to do it all at the same time. The houses were beautiful; Beverly had out done herself. There was little joy in it though. If felt more like we were seeking shelter from a storm that may never end. In some ways, it felt like the end of the world.

  We settled in and lived as nomads. Our hearts simply weren’t into any of it. I went to my clinic mechanically and pretty much let Tyler Peterson have full reins over the foundation. Auggie seemed to slump when she walked and no longer laughed or smiled. The only smiles were those of the twins and although they were infectious, eventually even they were too discouraged by the lack of response. We were all being held hostage by a mental illness we could neither diagnose or treat, much less cure.

  Auggie and I made love, but it was a very strange, emotionally void engagement. We both felt as though we deserved no joy and yet we clung to one another in desperation to find something to be happy about. I finally got a colleague of mine from Boston to fly down and talk with us.

  We spent the afternoon with Dr. Roger Benson, who was very highly respected in his field. We shared with him our situation with Ford and while he wasn’t there to see our son, he did express some opinions that I would make a point of following up on with Ford’s therapists.

  He looked at the joyless faces of Auggie and myself, clucked his tongue and got right to the point. “This may sting a bit, but you need to hear it. You’re letting this wear you down and you will eventually fall into a depression that could be dangerous for not only you but the rest of your family. Your son is ill, as much as if he had a cancer. Time will tell if he is to be helped, but you cannot allow yourself to die with him. You have two other children and yourselves to think about.

  “You must put some joy back into your lives. You are both bright, energetic, ambitious people who have so much to give to one another and to others. This foundation sounds like a wonderful idea for you, Worth. If you cannot help your son, help someone else’s. You never know what can happen until you put it out there in the universe and see what comes back.”

  “Auggie, your love of horses is your salvation. Begin your work there; it is your essence. You have two more children and if you’re not careful, you will paint them with the dismal future of your oldest son. Become young parents again. Have birthday parties, take them to amusement parks and the zoo, take lots of pictures and let them lead normal lives. You have elderly parents and this isn’t fair to them. Count your blessings and include them in your lives. No matter what you do, you cannot control what is happening to Ford. There are new diagnostic procedures all the time. New medications and significant advancements in the field of mental health. I don’t have to tell you this, Worth. Give them a chance to evolve. Give him time to get through puberty and reach adulthood. Perhaps these will all connect at some point and provide a solution for him. But in the meantime, you must live.”

  His words held wisdom and purpose for us. Slowly, we began to live again and didn’t allow the feelings of guilt to get in our way. Sometimes, it meant that we had to forget about Ford. It was almost as if he had ceased to exist. We still weren’t permitted to see him, so we lived without him.

  Auggie and I decided to have a recommitment ceremony. We wanted to be married again, in a church with a minister and this time, our youngest children would be by our sides. We invited everyone we knew and held the ceremony in a small church in our tiny community. Our babies were sitting up and wore circlets of flowers upon their tiny heads. We blew kisses in the direction of Ford but resolved to go on without him.

  That night we made love with a renewed zest. Auggie became my young bride again and my hands passed over her tender skin as though it was newly discovered. She opened herself to me and our gentleness was replaced by a frenzy born of long denial. It was a coupling of souls this time; not just two young bodies that were attracted physically. We were tied at the soul. For better or for worse.

  What we didn’t expect was that the worst part would follow so closely.

  Auggie

  Worth’s cell buzzed in the middle of our wedding night. It was Bernie and Worth answered, his face contorting through a variety of expressions. I was trying to listen in, but their voices were low in the dark of the night and I couldn’t understand what was being said.

  Worth even stood and left the room at one point, which was when I feared for the worst.

  When he came back, he’d hung up and took my hands in his. “Auggie, we have to do something that could turn out very badly, but we have no choice. They’ve not left us with a choice.”

  I swallowed hard, trying to not let terror seize me. “What?”

  “That was Bernie and he just got a phone call from Ford. Ford was attacked earlier today by one of the roughest boys in the institution and was beaten quite badly. There was no doctor on hand to take care of him, so he was left to his own devices in the medical ward. He found a way to escape and has been in hiding until he found a way to call.”

  I tried to get up, but Worth placed his hands on my shoulders, holding me down.

  “Bernie is on his way to pick him up. We will see to it that he’s treated medically and then Bernie is going to take him out of state.”

  My hand flew to my mouth as I tried to comprehend the implications.

  “Auggie, we can’t let him return to that facility; he may not be so lucky next time. This means our son is going into hiding. As long as Bernie is with him, things should be fine. But we have no guarantees. Bernie is one helluva good man. He is offering to give up his own freedom to keep Ford safe.”

  “But… can’t we—”

  Worth shook his head. “You can’t risk the babies by having them close to Ford. I can’t do it, the officials will know it is me and I won’t leave you and the babies.” Worth pressed his hands on his temples, as if attempting to keep his head from exploding. “I’m giving Bernie money and they’ll leave the state and head west. We may never be able to see either of them again; that will be up to Bernie’s discretion. One thing I know, Ford is not safe here and neither are we. We have no choice. I need you to agree to this, Auggie. It will take both of us, working together to keep all of our children safe and happy. To do this, they must be apart. Do you agree?”

  I wanted to scream “no” but found myself nodding. It seemed my brain wanted to work even when my heart was dying. “That will make Bernie a kidnapper.”

  “Yes, it will. I may have them leave the country entirely.”

  I looked into Worth’s eyes, finding strength there. I swallowed hard. “What can I do?”

  “You can forget this conversation ever took place. Never speak of it to a living soul; not even our parents. As far as we’re concerned, Ford escaped and his location is unknown. We never had that phone call and never spoke to Bernie.”

  I leaned into his chest, needing his comfort, needing his warmth. “I trust you, Worth. They can’t put us all in jail.”

  He kissed my hair. “We have no choice, Auggie. Ford is running the show now.”

  The End

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  The LaViere men — wealthy, controlling, self-centered and willful. Although generations separated them, they retained their legacies of power. Magnetic and perpetually driven to excel, their appetites for dominance over their women was unrelenting. While their wealth set them apart, the cost of those they destroyed was greater than any fortune imaginable.

  Auggie, the copper-haired beauty who mentally jousted with her handsome Worth paid her price and yet asked for more. Liane, the sensitive creature with intuitive empathy sought to conquer her Hawk and paid her price as well — yet neither of them could deny themselves their men.

  A saga of generations where wealth was measured by the foes they conquered. Psychological swordplay left only a few standing. Who would they be?

  FOR A LIMITED TIME: “The Billionaire Prisoner - The Complete Series,” is also included in this box set as a FREE BONUS!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Hawk

  Standing in t
he stirrups of my beloved Diablo, I gained a few precious inches to look down upon the rolling hillside of Carlos Acres.

  Home.

  I shook my head, cursing my nostalgia, and sat down on the horse, leaning forward to scratch his soft neck. They say you can’t go home again. It’s an expression generally meaning that time changes all that’s familiar while our memories are filed like so many images arranged in place but locked in time. For me, however, it wasn’t an expression — it was a reality.

  From my vantage point, I’d never thought my adopted name to be more fitting. As a child, I’d longed to be a hawk; the hunter who surveyed his prey from gliding heights, ready to drop and kill with neither conscience nor warning. When it became necessary for me to choose a new name, Hawk came immediately to my lips. Sansabri was just as easy. It meant homeless in French — a fitting name for a man who had none.

  Born Worthington LaViere, IV, I was the firstborn son of Worthington, III and Auggie LaViere — the very people whose estate upon which I now overlooked. Carlos Acres wasn’t my home, and for the time being, the LaVieres couldn’t be my parents. Not after what I’d done.

  *

  Many years ago, my sanity seemed to be in question. I can’t say that I blamed them for their diagnosis. In fact, I remembered only a small part of what went down, so I had little defense. My mind was like an old black and white silent film I saw once; flickering images that lacked depth and sound, leaving gaps that left you unsure of the ending.

  A few salient facts left their impressions on me, like claws still digging under my skin. The first was that I wasn’t welcomed at home or in my family. Bernie did his best to shield me, but there were only so many excuses he could use before the bullshit bucket was empty. I knew he walked more than one line, as a man himself as well as an intermediary between my father and me. He was always tentative as if his responses to my questions could calm me or trigger a far different response.