BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE: The Unforgettable Southern Billionaires: The Complete Collection Boxed Set (Young Adult Rich Alpha Male Billionaire Romance)

by Walker, Violet

  “Why,” she mouthed and Grant realized that she had no memory of what had happened.

  Not wanting to add more stress to her, he simply said, “You were asleep for a bit longer than we expected.”

  Desiree seemed satisfied with that answer and pointed to the tube in her throat, motioning that she wanted it out. Before he could answer her, Grant’s phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and saw his mother’s number on the screen. Promising Desiree that he’d be right back, he stepped into the hall to answer. “Mother?”

  “Grant Crawford, what have you done? Your father’s been arrested!”

  Chapter Eight

  Desiree motioned to the nurse who had come to check her vitals for a piece of paper and a pen.

  What happened to me? she wrote.

  “What do you remember?” the nurse countered, not wanting to add any undue stress to Desiree’s recovery by revealing too much.

  Couldn’t breathe. Felt like floating, then black. she wrote.

  “There was a problem with your breathing tube,” the nurse said carefully. “But we fixed it and you are doing very well now.”

  Desiree looked at her skeptically before writing someone was here.

  “Yes, your boyfriend has been here with you through most of the last day,” the nurse told her.

  Desiree shook her head. No, before. Someone here before, she wrote.

  “You saw someone?” the nurse asked. “In your room? Before you had trouble breathing?”

  Desiree nodded yes.

  “Who was it?” the nurse asked.

  Dark. Couldn’t see, but someone here. Wouldn’t help me.

  Just then, Grant came back into the room after a short and pointed conversation with his mother. He noticed the paper in Desiree’s hand and came around the side of the bed to see it.

  “She was telling me that she remembers someone being here in the room before she stopped breathing,” the nurse said.

  Grant looked down at the note and sighed. “Don’t worry, baby, he isn’t going to hurt you ever again,” he told her.

  Desiree looked at him and mouthed, “Who?”

  “I told my father about the letters,” Grant started. “He knows that we know about him and Destiny. I’m so sorry, Desi, I never would have told him if I thought he would try and hurt you like this.”

  Desiree took Grant’s hand and squeezed, shaking her head. No, she wrote. Not your father!

  “I know, I can’t believe it either. But don’t worry, I told the police. He’s been arrested and he can’t get near you again,” Grant assured her.

  Desiree shook her head again and tapped at the paper.

  “Wait, you mean it wasn’t my father that was in here? But I thought you said it was dark and you couldn’t see?”

  Smaller, shorter, Desiree wrote. Not your father. She squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to force her brain to recall some other information on the person who had been in her room. It had been dark and she couldn’t make out details, but she knew that the person was short and slight, not tall and broad like Mason Crawford. Suddenly, her eyes flew open as one detail came back to her and she furiously scribbled on the paper: PERFUME!!!!!!!

  Grant thought back to his conversation with his mother a short time before.

  “What have you done?” she’d yelled at him. He told her that his father was the one who had tried to kill Desiree and that he told the police

  “He’s not who you think he is, mother,” he’d said to her. “You have no idea what he is capable of.”

  “I know exactly who your father is, Grant,” she’d responded coldly. “I’ve lived with him for nearly thirty years. There’s nothing he does that I don’t know about, and I’m telling you that you have made a big mistake. How could you do this to our family? Don’t you know that this will be all over the papers now? We’ll be ruined!”

  “Mother!” he’d yelled at her. “I didn’t do anything to this family, this was all his doing! He’s responsible for all of this and I don’t give a shit if his face is splashed all over every front page in the state! He tried to kill Desiree.”

  “Listen to me, Grant, your father didn’t do anything to that girl. He may not be a saint, but he’s not a murderer. You need to go to the police right now and tell them that you made a mistake.”

  “I will do nothing of the sort,” Grant replied. “Mother, there’s so much you don’t know,” he said, the anger starting to fade and pity for his mother setting in. He couldn’t let her defend his father anymore, even if it meant shattering the illusion of the perfect life she had in her head. “Mother, he had an affair. With Desi’s sister,” he said gently.

  There was a pause on the other end of the phone before Catherine spoke. “I know,” she said quietly. “I told you, Grant, there’s nothing your father does that I don’t know about.”

  “You knew?” he asked incredulously.

  “Of course I knew,” she answered. “Grant, the wife of a powerful man makes it her business to know absolutely everything in order to protect that power. Your father’s job is to provide and mine is to make sure appearances are kept up,” she said matter-of-factly. “It’s how things are done in all powerful families.”

  “Oh, Mother,” Grant said, feeling sorry for her that she accepted it all as normal.

  As his driver took him to the police station, the conversation took on a whole new meaning for Grant. His mind was reeling and he felt as if the world was crashing down around him. Everything he had known about himself, his life, his family was changing before his eyes. He had accused his father of trying to kill Desiree, but he had been wrong. He knew that now. As he sat there, his mother’s words kept playing over and over in his head. “My job is to make sure appearances are kept up.” At first he’d felt sorry for her when she’d said it. Now, the words ran like ice water through his veins. It wasn’t his father that had tried to silence Desiree, it was his mother.

  Grant arrived at the police station and asked for the detective he’d spoken with on the phone. He was taken to see his father, who’d been placed in an interrogation room for the time-being.

  “Grant?” Mason looked up at him as Grant entered the room. He looked defeated. “What’s going on? You think I tried to kill Desiree? Grant, I swear to you…”

  “No. Dad I was wrong, I’m so sorry,” Grant said, sitting across from his father. “I thought it had to have been you. That you were trying to make sure she didn’t say anything about the affair.”

  “Grant, I may be a lot of things, but a murderer isn’t one of them,” Mason said.

  “I know that now,” Grant assured him. “Desiree woke up. She remembered someone being in her room. She said it was dark and she couldn’t see who it was, but the person was smaller than you.”

  “And?” his father asked. “What else is it that you aren’t telling me?”

  Grant sighed. “She smelled perfume. Mother’s perfume,” he said.

  Mason Crawford sat back in his chair looking as if Grant had struck him across the face. “No. No, that’s not possible,” he said.

  “Mother knew about the affair, dad. She told me. She said it was her job ‘to make sure appearances were kept up.’ What else can that mean?”

  “I don’t know, but it doesn’t mean she tried to kill her,” Mason said, still trying to wrap his brain around this new information.

  “Dad, Destiny was pregnant.”

  Mason’s face lost all color. “What?” he asked shakily.

  “She was pregnant when she died. About four months,” Grant said. “Desiree found out a few days ago when she was going through some old paperwork in the attic. She was seeing a doctor in Atlanta, and when Desiree went to try to find out any information, the receptionist remembered Destiny. She said that Destiny was adamant about the father not knowing she was pregnant. She was planning on leaving town until after she had the baby and putting it up for adoption.”

  “She told me she was going back to school,” Mason said, shaking h
is head. “But, if she was planning on leaving and putting the baby up for adoption, why did she kill herself?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m betting Mother does. The receptionist told Desi that Destiny had an appointment the morning she died and that Mother was with her. I asked her about it and she denied it, but now I’m thinking she lied.”

  “Of course I did,” Catherine said from behind him.

  Grant turned to see his mother standing in the doorway of the interrogation room with the detective behind her.

  “Catherine what the hell is all of this?” Mason asked her.

  “Mrs. Crawford has confessed to the attempted murder of Desiree Palmer,” the detective answered for her.

  “Why?” Grant and Mason asked in unison.

  “I’m tired,” she said, smiling ruefully. “I’ve tried everything in my power for the past eight years to keep this family together, to make sure you never found out about your father’s indiscretions, to keep the legacy alive for you, but to what end? Your father kicked you out of the house, his affair came out anyway, and it turns out that Desiree Palmer is a far more formidable opponent than I gave her credit for. That girl simply will not die.” She almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

  Grant and his father watched as Catherine was led away to be processed.

  “Mr. Crawford, in light of your wife’s confession, you are free to go.”

  Chapter Nine

  “You know, you’ve only been out of the hospital for two weeks,” Grant chastised Desiree and ran to grab the grocery bags from her arms. “You shouldn’t be carrying all of that.”

  “I’m not a damn invalid, Grant,” she said, secretly appreciative for the help.

  It had been a month since Catherine Crawford was sentenced to ten years in prison for the attempt on Desiree’s life. Desiree had recovered from the crisis with minor holes in her memories of the weeks leading up to the accident, but remarkably, nothing else. Her physical injuries would take longer to heal. She had ended up with a plate in her leg that left her with a bit of a limp, and the doctors told her it could take several months for her ribs to heal.

  Mason had joined Desiree’s quest to find out more information about Destiny’s death and that of his unborn child. He had visited Catherine in prison and she told him the whole truth. She had found out that Destiny was pregnant and confronted her about the affair, demanding a paternity test. The day they had been seen together at the doctor, Catherine had gone with Destiny for the results. Once it was confirmed to her that the baby was, in fact Mason’s, Catherine asked Destiny to meet her out at the lake that evening to give her money to help her get out of town to have the baby.

  When Catherine got to the lake, Destiny was already there waiting for her. Catherine gave her an envelope of cash and a bag of what she told Destiny were prenatal vitamins but were actually strong sedatives. She encouraged Destiny to take one, and when Destiny became groggy, Catherine forced the pills that ultimately killed her down her throat. Catherine had become concerned that Destiny would decide to keep the baby and come back for Mason to claim his child. This confession added another 25 years to her sentence.

  Grant and Desiree did their best to try and move forward. Desiree decided to stay in Crawford’s Corners and Grant officially moved into Palmer Manor. Mason had offered Grant his place in the family business after profuse apologies for everything that had happened over the last eight years but in the end, Grant decided to go out on his own for the first time in his life. He and Desiree decided to open a comprehensive support center for young expectant mothers once Desiree fully healed from her injuries. It would be called Destiny’s Hope. Mason Crawford would be a substantial, though silent, donor.

  Desiree and Grant’s plans for a future appeared to be finally back on track after a seven-year detour. As Grant helped unload the rest of the groceries, he peeked into one of the bags and a grin broke over his face. Ingredients for peach cobbler. Life was good.

  THE END

  Table of Contents for FREE Bonus Books

  Demon Romance Series

  Cougar Romance Series

  Cougar Romance Series #2

  Billionaire Romance Series

  Billionaire Romance Christmas Series #1

  Billionaire Romance Christmas Series #2

  Billionaire Romance Military Series

  Dragon Romance Series

  Vampire Romance Series

  Steampunk Romance Series

  Italian Billionaire Romance Series

  Demon Romance Series #2

  Regency Romance Series

  Regency Romance Series #2

  Cowboy Romance Series

  Cowboy Romance Series #2

  Demon Romance

  Forbidden Mate: Submission to a Demon Lord

  Secret Blood World Series Book One

  Lucile Wild

  Forbidden Mate: Submission to a Demon Lord

  Prologue: A Slow Burn

  One hundred years since his mate's passing, and still Luthias had trouble sleeping. The hope of finding her reborn self faded as time passed him by. He had searched tirelessly for the first ten years, when their son had still needed a mother. Then, grief had gotten the better of him. There would be only one Emilie. This was to be her final cruelty: to break him with love for her, then to abandon him to immortality. How far the demon lord had fallen, to still be alone in bed because he couldn't bear to let anyone use her pillow. The lord he had been, before her, would be disgusted.

  Lord Luthias had tried to fall asleep that night with a heavy sedative, which the palace healer claimed was strong enough for a Canine Demon of his caliber. It wasn't. He remained awake, staring at the portrait on the wall he kept covered with a sheet as his thoughts rushed through cycles of her, his frustration, his loss, his duties, and back to her—so he thought. He must have been sleeping, because he was stirred awake by a tightness around his member, and a low moan.

  His eyes opened. He was greeted by the sight of her pale figure, dark ringlets falling over large breasts that heaved with each measured thrust of her pelvis against his, as her slit attempted to swallow as much of him as she could handle. He could feel her inner walls expanding with his girth, making him even harder.

  "Emilie..."

  Luthias clenched his teeth with the indignity of an involuntary erection, but he could never be angry with her for doing this. He stared up at his mate, watching her heaving bosom jiggle against such a thin frame, but when he tried to sit up to touch her breast she held him down, hand pressing into the middle of his chest and shortening his air.

  "You're dreaming," Emilie whispered, as her lips lingered just above his. "This is how our son was born. Remember?"

  He did. He could recall waking up to this, the scheming glint in her dark eyes and that smile as he exploded inside of her, not knowing that nine months later it would be him between her legs—reaching for the child pushed forth by a womb engorged by this union.

  "You promised to find me," she breathed, arching back to reposition her legs. She now had one tucked beneath his, providing her another angle with which to sink into him. She moved up and down, and he choked with pleasure like a teenage boy, not the lord of a nation. He despised her. He loved her.

  "I...tried," he managed.

  "I'm alive," she moaned, her sly smile returning as she leaned back down, letting her nipples brush over his chest. "I'm blonde, and pretty. Not as clever, though...for now..."

  He tried to sit up again, but again she pushed him down, nails like claws digging deeper into his chest. He snarled at the pain, but in truth was only more aroused. It took all his concentration to hold in his seed.

  "Where?" he demanded, even as he let out a heated breath.

  "America...Vegas."

  She leaned down, whispering coordinates in his ear, as if to embed them in his subconscious. As she did so, her hand slipped down to caress his scrotum, and he tensed with sensation.

  "I'm even submissive, this time," she breathed, tongue f
licking his earlobe. "You'll be able to keep your backbone."

  "Name," he groaned.

  "Elizabeth..."

  Emilie somehow managed to sink even further onto him. She touched herself, index finger rolling her clit as her other hand squeezed her large tit. Luthias felt her climax around him as she gazed into his eyes, and he finally lost it. He emptied himself deep inside her and collapsed back, heaving, mournful as her warmth slowly slipped from his member. Still she knelt over him, a drizzle of his semen falling from her opening around his naval. She leaned down, stealing a long kiss.

  "Wake up," she whispered.

  He jerked awake.

  She was gone, the room as it was supposed to be. Luthias sat up, still breathing like he had just finished a marathon; he snarled with frustration when he realized he had ruined his drawers and his sheets. Slowly, he fell back onto his pillow, disgraced enough to sit in his filth while he sorted out his head. His mate. His fucking mate. Even in death she would be the death of him, yet still—he wanted her back. He needed her back.

  When he closed his eyes, he could still hear the coordinates. He engraved them in his mind. Perhaps when he found Elizabeth, he could finally get some sleep.

  Chapter 1: The Hand of Fate

  Her name was Elizabeth Brissette, but tonight she was Blondie, since the clients were allowed to choose what they called Stedman's escorts. She assumed by the name that she had been chosen for her blonde hair, which Mr. Matthias Seymour had made clear by his constant comments throughout dinner. She understood, of course. Real blondes were hard to come by in this industry, and despite what L'Oreal might advertise, you can tell when it comes from a bottle. More than that, her particular shade of blonde was unusual: a true gold which stood out against her milky skin, a cascade of waves all the way down her back. She had never cut her hair, not once. It was only part of her life she had ever had any control over. From foster homes to waitressing to the sex trade—in Las Vegas, her story was a dime a dozen.