His Sweet Torment: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Michelle Love

  Padme frowned, trying to remember if she had accidentally taken too many of her pain killers. “I don’t remember doing that.”

  The doctor cleared his throat. “We don’t know if it was pills, actually. Whatever it is you took, it was enough to knock you out. We won’t know what until the blood tests came back, but there doesn’t appear to be any liver or kidney damage. Your throat will be sore for a time, I apologize for that.”

  Padme gave him a half-smile. “I forgive you, after all, you were trying to save my life.”

  When they were alone, Severin let her anger show. “How dare you try and kill yourself?”

  “I swear I didn’t, Mom,” Padme shook her head. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  Severin’s body slumped. “I know, darling…I’m just so confused. And put that together with your pain, and Enver being gone…for a moment, I thought you’d reached rock bottom.”

  Padme squeezed her hand. “No, I think rock bottom is still coming, but I’m not there yet.”

  She grinned to show Severin she was joking. Severin half-smiled. “Just don’t give up, is all I ask.”

  Padme leaned her head against her mother’s shoulders. “Never.”

  Severin had fallen asleep in the chair next to Padme’s bed when the doctor came back to see them. “No pills,” he said, in a grim voice. “I’m afraid to say that it seems you were drugged with a date rape drug.”

  Padme gaped at him. “What? How?”

  “No idea.”

  Padme frowned trying to recall when she had been in another person’s company. “How quickly do they work?”

  “Pretty quickly, within a half hour, I would say. Your dose was mild enough not to do any damage but strong enough to knock you out. I’d prefer you stay here overnight just to be sure, but I think you may be able to go home in the morning.”

  Padme thanked him. After he’d left, Padme tried to remember what she had eaten or drunk with Severin that night. She knew it couldn’t have been Severin who drugged her. Everything she had, Severin had also eaten or drunk…apart from the orange juice.

  Padme snagged Severin’s cell phone from her purse and called Dale. She explained where she was and why. “Dale, could you go to my apartment and grab that o.j., have it tested for drugs?”

  “You think someone got in?”

  “I do, although I’m not sure why. Maybe they wanted me out of action so they could snatch me, I don’t know.”

  “I’ll get on it.”

  Padme smiled down the phone. “Thanks, D, you’re the best. Oh, hey,” a thought suddenly struck her, “would you have the place scanned for cameras or bugs? It just occurred me that Ingles might have rigged my apartment.”

  “Will do. You just get some rest. Love you.”

  “Love you too, Daleywhaley.”

  He laughed. “That sounds more like the old you. Later.”

  Padme ended the call and smile to herself. Weirdly, she felt more energized than she had for a while. Probably because of the extra sleep, she told herself. She just didn’t understand why someone would go to the trouble of drugging her – and then do anything.

  One of the night nurses came in, struggling under the weight of a huge bunch of flowers. “Didn’t even know they did deliveries this late. Here you go, hun.” She handed Padme an envelope.

  “Thank you, gosh, they’re gorgeous.” Padme was astonished at the beautiful bouquet – all bright jewel tones. She opened the envelope and pulled out…a lotto ticket. A Washington State Hit 5 Lottery ticket. What the hell?

  She turned over and saw a signature on the back of it – E. Latimer.

  E. Latimer? What the hell is going on?

  She looked for any other identifying marks, but there were none. She read the numbers to herself.

  0/2/78/23/0

  What was wrong with this picture? She read the numbers again then realized - the Lotto didn’t go up to seventy-eight and there were definitely no zeros. It wasn’t a real ticket. Someone was trying to tell her something.

  Enver?

  “What is it?” She hissed softly to herself, wracking her brain, but try as she might, she could not make a connection.

  It was just after four a.m. when the hospital was silent, only the soft beep of machinery was making any noise when Padme awoke, gasping, not from pain, but from realization.

  Eddie Long. E. Latimer. The strange and huge sum of money in her checking account, almost but not quite seven hundred and fifty million. The weirdly ordered numbers on the lotto ticket.

  They were longitude and latitude.

  Enver was telling her where to find him.

  Dale was waiting at her apartment when Padme got home. Severin kissed her daughter goodbye and hugged Dale. “Look after her,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. She had always liked Dale. If Padme and Dale had suddenly decided they were in love, Severin would have thrown a party.

  Padme smiled at Dale as he studied her. “You okay, sweets?”

  She nodded. “I really, really am. I got my fight back.”

  He squinted at her. “You got drugged…and it’s a good thing?”

  “I think I was meant to go to the hospital. I got some flowers there.” She stopped and looked around. “Is it safe to talk here?”

  Dale nodded and grinned. “Oh yes.”

  “No bugs?”

  “No, there were, or rather there’s one camera but somehow, I don’t think you’ll be mad about it.”

  “About someone spying on me? I think I might be,” Padme said grimly, ready to yell, but Dale, chuckling, held his hands up.

  “Slow your roll and listen to me. Here’s one camera, in this room only. Look up at the top shelf. Notice anything?”

  Padme looked up at her shelf. “No.” She blinked in confusion.

  Dale sighed, amused. “I forget that you’re about as domesticated as Angelina Jolie. Look again. See the dust on the books? Okay. See the book which has no dust on it?”

  Padme squinted at it and started laughing. “The Story of O? Are you kidding me?”

  Dale smiled. “The person who’s watching you probably hopes you’ve read that cover-to-cover.”

  Padme’s hand was at her mouth. “Enver?” She whispered it, and Dale nodded.

  “When I found it, I was about to disable it, and I got a phone call.”

  “From him?”

  Dale shook his head. “From a woman. She asked me not to remove the camera, that it was, how did she put it – a link that her employer wanted. I asked her why the hell I shouldn’t rip the damn thing out, that her employer could go fuck himself. I was sure she worked for Ingles. I was about to hang up when she said something to me. She said “Lemon. Left Inner Thigh.”

  “Oh my god,” Padme’s legs wobbled, and she sat down. “My tattoo. There are only four people in the world who know I have that. Me, the tattooist, you and Enver. Well, maybe the people at the emergency room by now. But how would this woman know? It has to be Enver.”

  Dale nodded and sat opposite her. “I think so, too. So, I left the camera where it was and thought I’d tell you.”

  Padme put her face in her hand and gave a sob, just one, but then looked up smiling. She went to the bookcase and stared up at the camera. “Has it got a microphone? Can he hear me?”

  “I think so. I think he heard me cussing out when I found it and he called whoever that woman was to stop me.”

  Padme chuckled and looked back at the camera. “I love you,” she said and smiled. “And…I know.”

  She blew a kiss at the camera.

  “Sappy.”

  She laughed and flicked a pillow at Dale. “Shut up. Listen, I have something to tell you but I have to be certain no-one will overhear us. So, let’s go outside. Leave your cell phone in here.”

  Dale’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  Padme nodded, her smile grim. “Oh yes. Really.”

  Dale: Rule one. Don’t use your phone or your computer. Don’t go to an internet café or use a friend’s com
puter or phone. You don’t know where Ingles has eyes.

  Padme handed the stranger’s phone back to her with a smile. “Thank you so much. My husband is on his way. Can I pay you for the time?”

  “Oh no, no, it’s fine. Take care.” The woman waved and smiled her goodbye, and Padme grinned.

  No husband was on his way. She had to admit, she’d faked the phone call perfectly. It had taken only a minute to punch in the two strings of numbers she’d memorized.

  Latitude 0.278230 Longitude 73.432896

  The island of Gan, Addu Atoll, The Maldives, Indian Ocean. Enver was in paradise.

  Dale: Rule Two. When you find out where he is, do not say it aloud. To anyone. Not even yourself. Do not tell anyone, not even me. Find a way of communicating in silence to Enver via the camera. Do not rush this – it’s vital. Don’t be tempted to run off to the nearest airport. Plan this. It’s been six months, you can wait a little longer – you rush it now, you’ll both end up dead.

  “My, Pad, you’ll end up spending all your pay check in here.” Beth smiled at her as she packed another bag full of the books Pad had just bought. “Good choices too, a lot of classics.” She looked through the selection. “Lolita. One of my favorites.”

  Padme smiled. “Thought it was time I caught up on my reading. I have a lazy weekend planned with junk food and books.”

  Beth chuckled. “That sounds like heaven. Have a good couple of days, sweetheart.”

  “See you Monday?”

  “Sure thing.”

  When Padme exited the shop, Frederick Ingles was waiting outside.

  Dale: Rule Three: Don’t piss Frederick off. Go along with what he says, have dinner with him, tell him anything he wants to know but don’t give anything away. Lie. Embellish. Play up your broken heart.

  She glared at him, and he smiled, opening the back door of the limousine he was leaning against. “You look hungry, my beautiful Padme. Allow me to buy you dinner.”

  She made an act of looking nervous, and glancing around. Frederick pulled his coat aside and showed her his gun, then looked inside the bookstore, making his point. Padme sighed and climbed into the backseat of the car. Frederick got in beside her, too close. Padme heard the locks of the door click shut. Despite herself, she shivered, and wondered if she would be able to fight him off if he tried anything. Seeing her checking out potential escape routes, Frederick reached into his pocket and pulled out a flick-knife. “Try anything, Padme, and I’ll decorate the inside of this car with your blood.”

  Annoyed rather than scared, Padme’s eyes narrowed. “Do you get off on threatening people? Women?”

  Frederick shrugged. “Yes.”

  God. Padme looked away from his penetrating gaze. “What do you want?”

  “Storytime. I want to know how you and Enver met…I know you were with him before you were his F.B.I. protection. You were fucking each other in the Four Seasons hotel for two days straight. Did you know he was your protectee?”

  Padme hated that she had to share this with this monster. It would sully her memory of that first weekend. She remembered Dale’s warning. Lie. Embellish. “Yes, I knew. I went there to talk about the plan for Monday.”

  “And you were seduced by him?”

  She turned her usual warm brown eyes on him. Today, they were ice cold. “How do you know I didn’t seduce him?”

  Frederick smirked. “I don’t. Bravo.”

  “I fucked him. But you already know that.”

  “So, let me get this straight, you’re straight out of Quantico – and you fuck your first assignment. Tell me, Ms. Kaur, this self-destructive streak you have…” He lunged for her suddenly, yanking her t-shirt up and bringing out the knife. He pressed the tip to her belly. “Stop lying to me, Padme, or I swear, I will gut you. Did you know him before you fucked him?”

  She shook her head, and he let her go. “That’s better. Now, where did you meet?”

  “A friend’s party.”

  “And you went back to his hotel with him?”

  She nodded. Frederick pulled her to him, and she cringed as he trailed his lips across her throat then up to her mouth. “Mm, I can imagine it,” he murmured, “His cock plunging into your silky cunt, reaming you into submission…did you beg him not to stop, Padme? Did you let him fuck you in whatever way he wanted?”

  Padme felt sick and tried to wriggle away from him, but Frederick merely laughed and locked his arms around her. “We’re going to have a lovely meal, my lovely Padme and then you will accompany me back to my hotel suite, and you will show me exactly how he made love to you.”

  Oh god, no…She wrenched herself out of his arms, terrified and furious. “Kill me. Kill me right now, Frederick because I will never, ever have sex with you.”

  Frederick threw his head back and laughed, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out his phone. “Do you recognize this residence, Padme?”

  Every cell in her body went cold. Severin’s house. She looked back at Frederick’s triumphant face. “Don’t. Don’t hurt her.” Her voice broke which made his smile bigger.

  “Guess we’ll be spending the night together then.”

  Padme closed her eyes. She felt Frederick’s mouth on hers. “Kiss me back, Padme, make it convincing.”

  She obeyed, feeling a numbness creep over her. She instead switched off her feelings, become cold, stiff. Throughout dinner, she hardly ate anything, and when he held out his hand and led her to the elevator, she began to tremble. As the doors opened, she made to get in, but he stopped her.

  “No.”

  Padme looked at him, confused. Frederick smiled, and the triumph in his eyes was more than he could bear. “I don’t want Toscano’s sloppy seconds,” he said. “You’ve proved to me that you’re obedient, Padme, you can go now.”

  Humiliation flooded through her body. Turn around, walk away. “You bastard.” She hissed. “Was anyone ever outside my mother’s house?”

  “Oh, yes,” he said. “I’ll give you this. You’re loyal. I would love to fuck you, Padme, but as I said…you’ve been tainted by Toscano. You can find your own way home.”

  He dismissed her with a wave and Padme wished that she still had her F.B.I. issue firearm on her. She would blow this cocksucker’s brains out even if it meant a life sentence. She turned and started to walk away when he called her name.

  “Padme? I expect you to be at my beck and call if you want your loved ones to stay unharmed. Don’t go disappearing on me.”

  “Fuck you,” she said with tears in her eyes. “You won’t get away with this.”

  She didn’t hear his reply, the blood rushing in her ears was too loud. She went back onto the street and hailed a cab. To her relief, one pulled up almost immediately, a young woman at the wheel. Padme gave her the address gratefully and sat back. The driver was about her age, short dark hair cut into an efficient short bob, her body slender and athletic.

  It was only when she realized the cab driver was taking an odd route to her apartment that she got nervous. She met the driver’s eyes in the mirror and glared at her. “Are you one of Ingles’ stooges too? Are you taking me somewhere to kill me and dump my body?”

  The driver smirked. “Quite the opposite, I can assure you, Miss Lemon.”

  Padme gave a small gasp. “Enver?”

  The driver nodded. “You’re being followed, that’s why I’m taking you elsewhere. I have a phone hook-up; you can speak to Mr. Toscano.”

  Padme’s heart soared, and she felt tears in her eyes. How quickly things changed. “Is it safe?”

  “It can only be a very brief, timed conversation. Then I will tell you anything you want to know. I have been told to share with you that your family and friends are also being watched by Ingles’ men – but in turn, they are being watched by a team of Mr. Toscano’s operatives. Your friends, your mother will not come to any harm.”

  Padme felt a weight lift from her shoulders. “So, I could leave the country, go to Enver?”

  The driver n
odded. “But we must be careful, Miss Lemon.” Padme smiled at the nickname. “We’ll work out a plan for you to fly indirectly, by setting up decoys and false trails. Mr. Toscano wants you to work with the F.B.I. so that you have protection. He is concerned about your safety first and foremost. Frederick Ingles has made you his only focus, and he’s constantly watching.”

  Padme leaned forward. “You put a camera in my apartment.”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I ask your name?”

  The driver hesitated and then nodded. “Lisa.”

  Padme touched her shoulder. “Thank you, Lisa, for everything. Without you calling Dale…”

  “Just doing my job.”

  “What is your job, exactly?”

  Lisa’s eyes were guarded. “I’m Mr. Toscano’s…associate. I fix things.”

  Padme nodded. “I get it.”

  “In the case under your seat, you’ll find a .22. Keep it with you at all times.”

  Padme dug around for a small case and pulled out the .22. “You’ll find it’s been legally registered in your name,” Lisa continued, “and spare ammo in the bag. Also, a burner phone with my number coded in. Only use it to call me, Miss Lemon.”

  “Call me Padme.”

  “Padme. It’s important that we do everything according to the plan. If successful, we could have you out of the country by the end of the week without Ingles’ knowing. After your call tonight, I will drive you back to your apartment, where you will pack a bag. Then you will go to stay with your mother. From there we will body swap you with another young Indian woman working for us, and you will be taken out of the country.”

  “To Enver?”

  “Not directly. The Ingles’ influence is everywhere. So, you will fly to the first location with your own passport. That will lead Ingles men there, with any luck. While they are trying to find you, we will send out more decoys so that they catch your scent, as it were. In the meantime, you will be traveling to the next location under a different name and passport and so on and so on until we feel it’s safe to reunite you with Mr. Toscano. Understood?”