“And that’s the problem,” Wilson said under his breath but loud enough for Vivienne to catch his comment.
“Do you think it was also Mrs. Dortmund who sent social services your way?” Mrs. Lanetti elegantly stood to her considerable height, made even more impressive by the high stiletto heels she wore.
“It wouldn’t surprise me.” Max scoffed.
“How could she know about Amber Rose?” Vivienne asked.
The lawyer walked to the window, interlacing her fingers over her back as she paced in a slow, composed stride. “That’s an excellent question. Any idea how Louise Dortmund could be more informed about my client than his PI?” she pointedly asked Mr. Stamper.
“Decades of practice would suggest that someone in this house is on her payroll,” Mr. Stamper said.
“Not possible,” Max said right away, not a hint of doubt in his voice.
“How can you be so sure, Max?” Mrs. Lanetti asked.
Vivienne knew she was being irrational and that she had no right whatsoever to even think possessively about the man sitting by her side, but she didn’t like that the lawyer had stopped calling him Mr. Prize and used his given name instead. His shortened given name. She couldn’t help but wonder if Max and the woman had history, too.
The lawyer looked like any of Max’s sophisticated lady friends. At least like the ones the gossip columns reported as Max’s girlfriends. Not that Vivienne would ever read those mags, but once in a while, she would peek at them at the salon, when she had nothing more interesting to do.
The truth was that, all of a sudden, she felt self-conscious of her faded jeans worn over scuffed boots. She might also have milk drops on her sweater, and she didn’t even want to think what could have landed in her hair when she was hastily changing Amber Rose.
“I am sure.” Max moved, crossing his arms over his chest. “None of my employees would betray me.”
“Okay. Is there anything else I should know?” Mrs. Lanetti asked, her frustration evident in the taut set of her shoulders and her ramrod straight back.
“I didn’t kill Lauren, and I intend to fight for custody of Amber Rose,” Max said.
Vivienne felt her heart swell several sizes at his statement. Could she be falling in love with the handsomely sweet Mr. Prize?
16
Max’s nerves were on edge, but Vivienne’s presence by his side worked wonders in keeping his mood swings in check. Now more than ever, he needed to keep his wits about him.
Jack walked in. “I’ve just vetted two women from Seattle Child Services.” He gave Hugo a raised brow. “And there’s a policeman accompanying them. All mortals.”
“I’m sorry,” Hugo said, heading to the elevator.
“It’s okay,” Max said. “Nothing happens if they wait a few minutes downstairs.”
“We don’t want to give them reasons to despise you.” Mrs. Lanetti paused her pacing and turned to face him. “Let me deal with the social workers.”
“I can’t promise I’ll keep quiet.” Max shrugged, sinking lower into the couch as he stretched his long legs in front of him and crossed his ankles.
“Please.” Mrs. Lanetti’s exasperated sigh was followed by a long stretch of silence that she ended with a fiery stare. “Sometimes, I wonder why you persist having me on retainer when you seldom heed my pricey advice,” she said. Her blue eyes could have melted a lesser man into a puddle.
Max smiled at her. “Because you are the best shifter lawyer in Seattle.”
Mrs. Lanetti’s lower lip imperceptibly curved up into the ghost of a smile. “Please, behave.” She walked back to her seat as Hugo came back, escorting two women and a uniformed cop into the living room.
“Mrs. Grace and Mrs. Quinn,” Hugo said, then added, “And Officer Lewis.”
“Maximus Price.” Max stood and offered his hand to both women and the cop before introducing the rest of the room to them. When it was Vivienne’s turn, he presented her as his friend.
Mrs. Grace and Mrs. Quinn nodded politely and took the seat Max offered them.
“Mr. Prize, I want to get directly to the point,” Mrs. Grace. “We were informed you have a minor under your roof—”
“How did you come in possession of such information?” Mrs. Lanetti asked.
“Is it true that a baby girl was brought here last night?” Mrs. Quinn asked.
“My client isn’t going to answer any of your questions if you don’t disclose the source of your information first.” Mrs. Lanetti smiled at the women.
The social workers looked at each other, exchanging a silent conversation before Mrs. Grace said, “It was an anonymous source.”
“And why would you believe an anonymous source?” Mrs. Lanetti raised a sculpted eyebrow.
“Because it came with a picture of a baby taken inside this building.” Mrs. Quinn reached into the large bag hanging from her sagging shoulder and produced a manila folder. “Take a look.” Before she could stand, Max walked to her and took the folder she held out to him.
After taking a look at the lonely picture in the folder, Max motioned for both Wilson and his lawyer to come closer.
“That’s Hugo behind the reception desk,” Wilson commented.
“The time stamp says two o’clock in the morning,” Max said, eyeing Hugo, who promptly nodded.
Hugo joined the trio and lowered his voice to say, “I can check the video surveillance, but it was around that time when the courier arrived.”
“Make a copy of the video, please,” Wilson said, sending Hugo away.
“Is the baby here or not?” Mrs. Quinn asked, her body subtly angling toward the policeman, who stood by the entrance. “We have a warrant to search the house for her.” She produced another folder from the cavernous bag and showed them an official-looking paper.
Mrs. Lanetti snatched the warrant and scanned its content. “Judge Biondi signed it,” she said under her breath, pronouncing the judge’s last name like a swearword. She gave Max a slight nod and turned toward the social workers.
“She is my daughter,” Max said before his lawyer could talk on his behalf.
Even though he paid her an obscene amount of money to counsel and represent him in court, he fought his own battles. It had always been that way since he was a kid, and that wasn’t going to change now. Especially when his precious Amber Rose was on the line.
Mrs. Lanetti gave him one of her patented glares that could freeze hot lava.
He ignored his lawyer and added, “And I’m taking full responsibility for my daughter.”
Mrs. Grace raised her hand to stop him. “First of all, we must see the baby girl and make sure she’s fine,” she said, standing to her full height which wasn’t impressive. The woman still managed to look formidable, though, with her straight posture and defiant expression.
Max knew these women were only doing their job, and he could even appreciate that they were after Amber Rose’s wellbeing, but they were a threat. Historically, he didn’t answer well to threats. His legendary temper rose, making his dragon nervous.
Vivienne stepped to his side. She gave him a small smile and placed her hand over his arm. At his frown, she gently squeezed and said, “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Somehow, Vivienne’s light touch and her reassuring tone was all it took to defuse his anger. He patted her hand. “Would you bring Amber Rose here?”
“Of course.” Vivienne made to move, but he squeezed her hand.
“Thank you,” Max said, trying to convey as much as he could within those few words.
“No worries.” Vivienne smiled and walked away.
Max watched her go, thankful that she was in his life.
“When did you receive the tip?” Mr. Stamper asked, making Max turn.
“An hour ago,” Mrs. Grace answered after a pregnant silence.
“I’m impressed,” Mr. Stamper commented. “It takes time to get all the papers in order, but you managed to do it in less than sixty minutes. This case is top p
riority for you.”
“Every child is top priority for us,” Mrs. Quinn answered back.
“Of course,” Mrs. Lanetti said. “And I’m sure that it’s a coincidence that Judge Biondi is Dortmund’s friend.”
Max listened to them while his senses tuned on Vivienne’s light steps walking the length of the hallway on her way to the guestroom. A moment later, he heard her coming back, and a sense of calm descended on him.
17
Vivienne hugged the sleeping girl to her chest.
Amber Rose smelled lovely like only babies could. Breathing in the girl’s scent, Vivienne thought there wasn’t anything else in the world as perfect as the mix of talc powder and the unique aroma that was Amber Rose. When she inhaled again, she recognized the faint trace of Max’s scent as well.
Now that she had spent some time in close quarters with Max, Vivienne’s werewolf nose could sense that unique combination of odors that marked him and the baby as father and daughter.
As she neared the living room, she heard the animated conversation taking place between one of the social workers, the PI, and the lawyer. Max kept silent, and it was probably for the better. Earlier, Vivienne had felt his mood darken and acted on impulse. Her touch seemed to have calmed him somewhat, but she was still worried he would snap and make the situation even more complicated than it already was.
Vivienne hurried back to him, rocking Amber Rose slightly.
“I’m not sure what you are trying to imply,” Mrs. Grace said, staring daggers at Mrs. Lanetti.
“I thought it was self-explanatory.” The lawyer smiled. The room’s temperature dropped to chilly.
Vivienne’s entrance stopped the bickering.
The two social workers stepped forward. Before they could come close to Amber Rose, Max moved between Vivienne and the women, effectively shielding her and the baby with his large frame.
“Mr. Prize, move aside.” Mrs. Quinn’s voice didn’t falter.
Vivienne pressed her hand against Max’s back. “It’s okay,” she whispered, knowing that he could hear her fine.
After a moment of hesitation, Max stepped aside. He towered over the rest of the room with his menacing presence. A coiled darkness emanated from him, but when Vivienne raised her eyes to his face, she saw the fear in his gaze and the subtle shake in his fisted hands.
A realization hit her. Max was terrified.
Nodding at him, she gave him a small smile and repeated, “It’s okay.”
His chest rose and fell fast as if he were trying to calm himself, but eventually, Max nodded back.
Vivienne stepped forward, angling Amber Rose toward the women. Mr. Stamper and Mrs. Lanetti craned their necks to take a glimpse of the baby, too.
“The baby seems well enough,” Mrs. Grace said, her rigid posture relaxing.
“We’ll take it from here,” Mrs. Quinn added, extending her hands toward Amber Rose.
Max stepped in front of Vivienne once again. “My daughter stays here, with me.”
Cold anger radiated from him.
To the social workers’ credit, they flinched but didn’t cower before him. “This baby girl is an orphaned minor and—”
Max’s roar filled the room. This time, Mrs. Grace jumped back while Mrs. Quinn scrambled a few steps to the left. Valiantly, the policeman stepped forward, gun in his shaking hand. Max only had to slightly turn toward the man to make him lower the armed hand.
“Nobody is going to take my daughter away. She is exactly where she should be, safe and well cared for,” Max said, using his alpha voice which resonated loudly in the living room. Shifters and mortals alike reacted to an alpha exercising his powers; it was impossible to resist the pull to submit.
It was also foolish of Max to unleash his alpha on mortals, but Vivienne understood he was under tremendous pressure.
In the astonished silence that followed, he strode to Vivienne and took Amber Rose from her arms. The baby had woken at her father’s outburst but didn’t cry or fuss. Instead, she had angled her head and watched Max the whole time. As she handed Amber Rose to Max, Vivienne saw the girl’s big eyes shine a bright yellow and hoped the social workers didn’t notice.
“Now, leave.” Max turned his back to his audience and proceeded to rock Amber Rose, murmuring sweet words.
“We’re coming back,” Mrs. Quinn warned, fisting her hands. She gave Mrs. Grace a pointed look before pivoting on her heels and heading out.
Mrs. Grace and the policeman followed soon after.
“Well done,” Mrs. Lanetti said, sarcasm dripping from her polished words. “There were several ways to deal with this problem and only one to screw everything up.”
“The baby needs some peace and quiet,” Max said. “It’s getting late. Thank you for coming, Mrs. Lanetti. Mr. Stamper. We’ll talk tomorrow morning.”
Dismissed, the two professionals left after exchanging a few words with Wilson, who afterward excused himself and left the room, too.
“Are you all right?” Vivienne asked Max, who stood in front of the glass wall, still slightly rocking on his feet, even though Amber Rose had fallen asleep.
“I will be,” he answered without looking at her.
She could see his face mirrored in the window in front of him. His troubled expression matched the rigidity in his pose. Max was furious, and yet, he was keeping it together for the little bundle he cradled in his strong arms.
Vivienne’s heart expanded in her chest. Loving dads were her Kryptonite. She could resist the billionaire jerk but was defenseless before Max Prize, hyper-protective father. There was no sense in denying the obvious. The sight of this powerful man brought down to his knees by a tiny baby girl evoked in Vivienne the sweetest of emotions. She was falling for him. It defied logic that she would feel anything for him in such a short time, but the affairs of the heart seldom made sense.
Max adjusted his hold on the baby to free an arm he wound around Vivienne’s shoulders. “I need you,” he said, releasing an army of butterflies in her stomach.
18
Adrenaline still coursed through Max, making him feel on edge. He pulled Vivienne close to him, her small form fitting perfectly against his side.
The image of the three of them reflected on the glass stole his breath. He couldn’t help but see a family. Something he had thought he wouldn’t need or want for several years.
Wilson’s steps startled Max back to the moment.
“Your parents are coming,” Wilson said, stepping in front of him.
“Why did you call them?” Max bristled.
“I didn’t. They watched the news and called you. When you didn’t answer, they hired a taxi and called me on the way here.” Wilson’s eyes lowered to Amber Rose before looking back at Max. “And you know there’s no power great enough to stop your mother when she sets her mind to something.”
The elevator in the foyer dinged.
“And here they are,” Wilson said, looking over Max’s shoulder.
Accompanied by Hugo, his parents burst into the living room.
“Max, we came as soon as—” His mother stared at Amber Rose, her mouth hanging open.
Coming to a screeching halt by his wife, his father looked first at Max, then at the baby, and finally at Vivienne.
“Oh, Max,” his mother cried, hurrying to him, her hands stretched in front of her. “Let me hold her.”
“Of course.” Max leaned forward, releasing Amber Rose to his mother.
“She’s just perfect.” His mother’s tears touched Max deeply.
His father hugged his mother’s shoulder as she cradled the baby, mirroring for a moment the image Max had seen on the window a few moments earlier.
“Max,” his father started, but couldn’t finish his sentence. He hastily wiped the moisture pooling at the corner of his eyes. “Hi,” he said to Vivienne. “Augustus Prize.” He offered his hand to shake.
Vivienne took his hand for a vigorous greeting. “Vivienne Bosch.”
�
�Corinne.” His mother, too, offered her free hand to Vivienne. “It’s so nice to meet you, Vivienne,” she said, giving Max a much too-pleased look.
His mother often nagged Max to settle down and find a nice girl. His usual answer to her was that there were too many fish in the sea to settle down for one single variety. Still, since meeting Vivienne, he hadn’t thought about any other woman, and now, there was nobody he wanted by his side but her.
Life was full of surprises.
“We might want to sit,” Max said, sliding his arm from Vivienne’s back to her arm before releasing her. He felt the loss of her warm skin but kept his hand to his side. A lot was going through his mind, and his emotions were all over the place, making him vulnerable.
Vivienne moved to the couch, and he sat close to her, motioning for Wilson to join them, too.
“I’ll wait outside and let you guys talk in private,” Wilson said.
“Stay,” Max said. “You are part of the family.” He then proceeded to tell his parents what he knew. Wilson interjected once in a while to add a few details, but otherwise remained silent as his parents alternately held Amber Rose, who slept throughout the entire conversation.
“Louise is behind all of this, isn’t she?” his mother asked after Max finished his tale.
“Most likely.” Passing his hand through his hair, Max sighed. As much as he would’ve liked to think that his ex-friend wasn’t involved in his present predicament, he knew better. “She wants to see me ruined.”
“But what’s her connection with the baby’s mother? How could she get hold of the information so fast?” his father asked.
“I know that Louise approached a few of Max’s dates in the past. She might have known Lauren…” Wilson let the rest of the sentence trail as he slightly tilted his chin, silently asking permission to continue.
“Go ahead.” Max didn’t keep secrets from his parents and trusted Vivienne wouldn’t run to the press.
Wilson continued, “Maybe Lauren didn’t act alone when she snuck into your yacht with the intention of drugging you.”
The Alpha’s Gift_Bad Alpha Dads_The Immortals Page 7