Billionaire Romance Box Set: The Billionaire's Legacy: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Box Set

by Sarah J. Brooks

  I closed my eyes and I began to move.

  When I finally felt the cool leg of the night stand, it was pitch black outside. I leaned my forehead against it and breathed a sigh of relief while the cool wood soothed my head for a moment. I looked up. The lamp looked like it was a thousand miles up in the air. I tried to pull my hands loose and screamed at the pain in my shoulder. I tried to pull one of my legs loose, but they were still bound so tightly to the chair legs I couldn’t even turn my ankle. I couldn’t imagine what my feet must look like after being tied that tightly.

  I stared at the lamp on the table, letting my brain process what to do. The cord, which I had painted to blend in against the wall, came clearly into my vision, and I smiled. A life line.

  I shifted over a few more inches, the only thing saving me from passing out from pain was the imagination of the lamp hitting the ground, hopefully close enough to my fingers to be able to press the button. I got close and reached out with the only grabbing tool I had at my disposal: my mouth. I wrapped my tongue and teeth around the cord, and I jerked my neck sharply to the right, knowing the pain that would come would be enough to probably make me pass out.

  The lamp fell to the floor in front of me, barely missing smashing my skull for at least the second time that day. I smiled and stared at the red button, solidly attached to the bottom of the lamp base. I reached out to press it with my tongue… and I couldn’t reach it.

  “Fucking fuck!” I screamed in pain and anger. I shifted my body, now ignoring the feeling of my actual bones shifting in my body as I moved against them, and, from sheer rage, I shot my tongue forward and jammed it against the button.

  When I heard the siren sounding in the suite, the siren that indicated the panic button had been activated, I wept. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried for anything other than Antoine, but these tears were involuntary. They fell out of my eyes and I laid there, quietly sobbing, until I heard the yells outside my door and, a moment later, the splintering smash of my door as Simon and Antoine, the two most important protectors I had, burst through it.

  “Sir!” Antoine yelled. “Sir, where are you?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, to try to yell, but no sound came out.

  “In here!” I heard Simon yell, and then, “Call an ambulance, holy shit.” There was a shuffle in the room and then I saw Simon leaning over me, his palms open as if he wanted to touch me, adjust me somehow, but he didn’t know quite how to go about it.

  I tried to smile. “The panic button works,” I said.

  “Sir, you’re going to be okay. I’m not going to touch you, though; the police are on the way and we’ll get you to a hospital.”

  “No,” I said, struggling against the ropes and failing. “Cassie. I need to get to Cassie. No hospital.”

  “Is he asking about Cassie?” I heard Antoine’s voice from the doorway to the room. They had turned the lights on and I saw his shadow cast over Simon and me.

  Simon nodded, and then he looked back at me.

  “Where is she? Is she okay?” I demanded.

  “We’re looking or her,” Simon said gently. “And Julian. We think they might still be in the house where the raid took place.”

  I looked into Simon’s eyes and knew he was speaking the truth. Then, I heard another rush of voices and everything went black.

  Cassie

  When I felt the rope loosen on my wrists, I involuntarily drew myself inward to protect myself from the blast to kingdom come I was sure was about to happen. There was silence. I couldn’t even hear my own heart beat or my own breath.

  “Did I go deaf?” I whispered. “Was there a blast that killed us?”

  “No,” Julian whispered back, his head meeting mine as I dropped my forehead to his shoulder. “No, we’re alive, and we’re free, and we need to get the living fuck out of here before the bomb detonates. We’ve been here for hours; it’s dark out. I don’t know how much time is left, but it can’t be much.”

  That pulled me out of my trance, and I could suddenly hear all sounds. Not just my heartbeat or my breath, but I could hear a car engine revving down the street. I could hear mice running through the walls. I could hear the ticking of an alarm clock I suddenly was positive was not an alarm clock.

  Julian pulled away from me and we disentangled ourselves from the ropes. They fell to the ground and he grabbed my hand. We tripped-ran up the stairs, but we were stopped short when Julian’s shoulder hit the door at the top of the basement stairs and didn’t push through.

  “What the fuck,” he muttered. He tried to push against it again; it didn’t budge. “Step back,” he said to me, and I took three steps down the stairs, giving him room to move. He took two steps back and then began a running start that ended with him smashing into the door as if it was a wall and not a door.

  “It doesn’t even sound like it’s going to move!” I said.

  “I think they barricaded us in,” he said. “It’s… a technique.”

  “For fuck’s sake!” I said. “Can’t we catch a break?”

  Suddenly, there was a huge crash from the other side, the sound of splintering wood.

  “Get back!” a voice said.

  “That sounds like Simon,” I said, and, before I could listen any more closely, the door disintegrated in front of us and Simon and Antoine stood in the doorway peering at Julian and me.

  “Thank God,” Simon said, breathing a sigh of relief as soon as he saw us. He reached past Julian toward me, and I was moving toward his embrace when Julian interrupted.

  “Let’s not thank God until we’re out of here,” he said, nodding back down the stairs to what he and I had just escaped. “You got in; is there an easy way out?”

  Antoine looked confused as he nodded. “Absolutely,” he said. He led us through the living room and out the front door as easy as it could ever be done under the best of circumstances. The fact that it was nighttime, that an entire day, basically, had passed while I’d been trapped with Julian in the basement highlighted that I hadn’t talked to Brad.

  “Where is he?” I asked, knowing that who I was talking about wouldn’t be a mystery to anyone standing on the lawn.

  I saw Simon and Antoine exchange a look. Julian looked at them with as much curiosity as I had.

  “Tell me what happened!” I screeched, the full force of everything that had happened hitting me like a brick wrapped in a sock. “Where is Brad?”

  “The hospital,” Simon said dully. “He’s in intensive care. And, he needs to see you.”

  I’d like to say that I ran to the car, but, the truth was, I think I literally flew there. A moment after Simon said that Brad was in ICU, I was sitting in the back seat of the car demanding that they drive, fast, to the hospital.

  When we got to University College Hospital, the same hospital where I’d visited Patrick, I couldn’t help but notice, I immediately took the elevator to ICU and walked to the same nurses’ station I’d visited the first time I’d visited Patrick.

  “Bradley White,” I gasped, out of breath and leaning on the counter. “Where is Bradley White?”

  The nurse, maybe the same as before, or maybe not, greeted me with the same attitude I’d come to expect from that hospital.

  “Are you family?” she asked, not looking up from her chart.

  “Yes!” I said. “I’m his wife! Obviously!” I glared at the woman, but I knew that, if push came to shove, I had nothing on me, not even a ring, to show that I was telling the truth.

  She regarded me with one eyebrow raised and sighed. I prepared myself to stand my ground. There was no way I wasn’t going to get in to see him, one nurse or a million nurses. But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to go on the attack.

  “He’s in room one. Five minutes. Don’t push me on it.”

  I didn’t answer; I ran straight into his room and paused as the silence of the intensive care unit, with its machines and its suction of air permeated my ears.

  “Brad,” I whispered,
taking in his shattered appearance. He was in a cast from his neck down to as far as I could see, with his left arm held away from his body in a plaster cast and a sling. One of his legs was in traction, and his face was black and blue.

  In spite of that, he opened his eyes when he heard my voice.

  “Thank God,” he said. “I didn’t think…” He stopped, wincing at the pain moving through his body.

  “Shhh,” I said, going to him. “Don’t talk about anything. Don’t speak. Just nod yes or no.” I put my hand on his chest, felt the cool plaster. “Are you in pain?”

  He began to answer, but I pressed my finger to his lips and shook my head. He smiled a bit, the corners of his mouth turning up at least, and he shook his head. No, he was not in pain.

  “Are you drugged out of your mind?” I asked, smiling a bit.

  He nodded yes. Absolutely.

  I leaned in and kissed him, pressing my lips to his. I traced his lips with my tongue, pausing for a moment as I heard him groan. Assessed whether that groan was one of pain or pleasure. Then, I continued. I moved my tongue along his jawline, feeling the scruff of his five o’clock shadow, and moved my lips to either side of his adam’s apple as I kissed down his neck.

  I stopped shy of where the cast began, and I returned my mouth back to his lips. His lips pressed against mine with an earnest quality, one that suggested that, if he was fully mobile, he’d have me on the floor spread out and pinned down… just how I liked it.

  “You rescued me,” I said. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.” I traced his chest, my fingers against the plaster of his cast, as I spoke.

  “You rescued yourself,” he said, his voice a raspy whisper. “I was… incapacitated.”

  “No,” I insisted. “It was all you.” Was it really? No. I know that, and so did he. But, I also knew that, sometimes, a man needed to know that he had rescued a woman. Especially a man who had been through the wringer like Brad had been. His day…

  “Antoine,” he said, as if reading my mind.

  “We will get your son back,” I said. I pressed my head to his chest and, as much as the hospital bed would allow, snuggled in to him.

  “No, the adult Antoine. We need to talk to him. He knows… he knows how to get my son back. He knows…” Brad’s voice was a struggle. “He knows where the other house is.”

  Brad

  Being laid up in the hospital was driving me absolutely crazy. I’d never been out of commission like this. Every time I thought I could move, though, maybe even stand up, my body would creak in a way that reminded me, generally with a shooting pain, that I wasn’t in any position to get around.

  Simon and Antoine kept me abreast of everything that was happening over the phone while I was in intensive care. After three days, I was moved out of ICU and into a regular room, and then there was a steady stream of activity as Simon, Antoine, Julian and Cassie continued to plan how we were going to get Antoine back.

  I looked around our makeshift conference table, with me at the head, of course, in my hospital bed, and I felt confident for the first time. Yes, the police should be in charge of this. But, I also knew that, my whole life, if I’d wanted something done it was up to me to do it. It was how I ran my life.

  “So where are we at with Manuel?” I asked Simon. “I’m obviously on his radar now.” I shook my head, knowing that I was in the most tenuous spot I’d ever been with the man who had been holding my child captive for years. Who had killed my fiancée. I was fortunate that Manuel Brown was not an unpredictable man; I knew that he was angry, and I had an idea of what he would do with that anger. I knew that we needed to get Antoine as soon as possible. There was no more time allowance; it was now or never.

  “He’s retreated to South Africa,” Simon said grimly. “Presumably for asylum. We have it on good authority that Antoine is still in London, though, and we’re basing our plan on that authority.”

  “Who is it?” I snapped. I wasn’t in the mood for unreliable sources.

  “It’s me, Sir,” Julian said, speaking up quietly. “I know the building where he’s being kept. I had my men do some recon, and it’s confirmed that he’s there.”

  “Building?” I asked. “I was told he was in another house…” My voice trailed off as Antoine shook his head subtly. He’d been wrong.

  “He’s in a commercial building downtown,” Julian said confidently. “A warehouse that was, by all accounts, something that you might have used for storage of your… product.” He looked at me as though he’d just reminded himself that I was in this up to my eyeballs and, if we got my son out alive, I’d still be looking at some serious charges myself.

  “So you’ve been there?” I said, shifting gently, wincing at the pain that continued to move through my body. “You’ve been there, and it’s possible to get him out?”

  “It’s possible,” Simon said, stepping back into the conversation.

  “So what are we waiting for?” I said. I gazed out at the gathering of people and felt every inch the CEO I was; I felt, maybe for the first time, like I was in absolute power. Even from a hospital bed, everyone here was operating for my best interests because my best interests provided for their best interests.

  “We’re waiting for the go ahead from you,” Antoine said. “Are we clear to move in tonight?”

  “Yes!” I snapped, waving my hand at all of them. A wave of irritation and frustration moved through me. The doctor had said that the medications I was on would make my moods somewhat unpredictable. “I’m about to get out of this bed and go with you.”

  “That would be significantly against medical advice,” Cassie said. “Please, honey.” I looked at her and softened as her eyes caught mine, pleading. “Just let us do this. I’ll get Antoine. I’ll make sure he’s in my arms and safe, and I’ll bring him straight to you. Trust me.”

  I looked at Cassie and a wave of warmth moved through me. She had grown in the time I’d known her from what I thought would be a one night stand into the woman I wanted on my arm, in public, in private, in business and in pleasure. Still… I couldn’t quite let her know that. Not yet.

  “I’ll trust you when I see my son in one piece,” I said, my voice cracking. “Just get him to me. We don’t have much time.”

  Cassie, Simon, Antoine, and Julian filed out of the room and took with them all the hope I had in the world to get my son back.

  Cassie

  We stood outside the warehouse, watching and waiting. Julian had called in reinforcements from the NCA, and the entire warehouse was covered from top to bottom. The NCA was watching from across the street as well, rifles trained on the windows and doors. I looked around, my heart pounding in my throat. I stifled a nervous laugh; the sound caught in my throat like I was choking.

  “Are you okay?” Julian asked. He looked at me with a critically caring eye. I felt, when he looked at me like that, that he could see right through me. There was no denying that Julian and I were somewhat drawn to each other. In another life, a life in which Brad did not exist, Julian and I might have a chance. Of course, I reasoned, in a life in which Brad did not exist, Julian and I would never have met.

  “I’m fine,” I said quietly, trying to steady my voice. “I just feel like I’m on the set of a movie. I have to keep reminding myself that this is the real deal. That those guns are loaded and that the good guy doesn’t always win.”

  “The good guy always wins,” Julian said. “It’s in the movies that they don’t. Why else would you watch if you didn’t have some doubt?” He smiled and squeezed my hand. “This is under control. It’s dangerous, yes, but it’s not going to be dangerous for you or for Antoine; it’s only going to be dangerous for whoever is standing guard over that little boy.”

  I knew he was lying, and I spread my lips in a semblance of a smile, letting him know that I at least appreciated his efforts. He was about to say something when a voice began to squawk into an intercom he had on his shoulder.

  “Go,” he said into i
t. He looked at me and nodded. “Are you ready? Do you remember everything we talked about?”

  I nodded. “Wait for your signal, go straight for the door you’re standing by. When you open it, get inside, grab Antoine, and get him the fuck out of there.” That wasn’t exactly what Julian had told me, but I hoped it was close enough.

  It was. He nodded. “If you hear gunfire, drop where you are. Put your hands over your head and make yourself as flat on the floor as you can. I’ll find you and let you know when you can move again.”

  I nodded and gulped, the tension rising in my ears as a ringing, screeching sound. I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to clear the sounds.

  Julian reached out and took me by my upper arms, faced me to him, looked into my eyes from about an inch away. “If you can’t do this, that’s okay, just tell me. No one expects you to—”

  “I’m fine,” I said loudly, pushing him away. I didn’t want to hear about how I wasn’t a cop and no one was expecting me to help rescue Antoine. I felt like I had been living my life, every moment, to save this little boy, to reunite him with his father, the love of my life. “Let’s just fucking go.”

  Julian nodded, said something low into the intercom, and he turned to walk toward the side door that had been cleared for our entrance. He led, and I followed. I’d looked at the blueprints of the building and knew that we were going to be taking steps down to the basement, which had been converted into an apartment for at least one of Manuel’s men. He drew his gun and motioned for me to go ahead. I took a deep breath and stepped forward.

  Immediately, I was covered on all sides by Julian’s men. I saw them, felt them, knew they were there to protect me. I walked down the steps, my ears tuned in to any sound that I didn’t recognize, any sound that seemed out of place. I rounded the corner and finished walking down the stairs. Julian motioned for me to stop. Another NCA agent stood in front of the door, lifted three fingers to count 1, 2, 3, then he flung it open. The room looked like a normal entrance to an apartment. I waited for the signal from Julian.