by Lexi Blake
Bran pressed the button to take them up to the penthouse.
“Are you going to tell me if Ellie’s moved out or not?” He didn’t look his brother’s way, merely stared straight ahead.
Bran sighed. “Yes. I’m sorry, Riley. She moved out a few days ago.”
He nodded to himself. “All right.”
It wouldn’t make a difference. As soon as he could pack, he would find a place as close to her as possible. He would start over and do it right this time.
“She said to tell you she was sorry she didn’t come to the hospital. She was surprised you were getting out today,” Bran explained.
“I know. I got the text.” She’d texted him that she wished him a happy trip home. He should have known then and there she wasn’t going to be waiting for him. “I also saw the news.”
“Yeah, I was going to get to that.”
“You can’t keep me out of the loop forever.” Bran, Drew, and Hatch had all been tight-lipped about Castalano and what happened after Ellie had shot him. He vaguely remembered Drew over Castalano’s body and prayed he wasn’t finishing the old bastard off. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but Riley didn’t want Drew to have that kind of blood on his hands.
He could still remember how Ellie hadn’t hesitated. She’d used up the gun when he’d no longer had the strength. She hadn’t fled as he’d asked her to. She’d stayed at his side and taken out that son of a bitch.
Who had managed to survive the three bullets she’d placed in him only to have a heart attack yesterday. The day before he was set to finally talk to police. His lawyer had wanted a plea deal in exchange for full disclosure of Castalano’s activities and his partners.
“I want to know everyone who went into and out of his hospital room,” Riley said.
“Case is already on it,” Bran replied. “Of course you know what Drew thinks.”
“Likely he thinks exactly what I do. Patricia Cain and whoever is left got to Castalano before he could talk. She knew there wasn’t anything about her on Stratton’s thumb drive since someone from the police department leaked what was on the drive.”
A systematic record of Castalano’s deals with foreign companies and governments to sell technology. He’d made millions. Unfortunately, he’d also spent it.
Lily Gallo had left proof behind, too. She’d left a document on her computer detailing everything she’d done to aid in setting up her boss. It was left to send out to Ellie and the police if she didn’t check in on her server every thirty-six hours.
Ellie was free and clear. And gone.
“You know she’s had a lot to do these last couple of weeks,” Bran said as though reading his mind.
The trip to the top of the building seemed endless. He would be going back down as soon as he could. He would march himself to her condo and ask her out. If she said no, he’d do it all over again tomorrow.
He couldn’t lose his wife. She was the most important person in the world to him.
“I know she’s needed to be at StratCast.”
“The whole company was in chaos and there were a ton of legal issues to deal with and her lawyer was on pain meds.”
“I still could have done it,” he argued.
“No.” Bran shook his head. “You’re the stubbornest man I know and that’s saying quite a bit. It used to be Drew, but now it is definitely you. Garrison’s friend did an excellent job. The stock has all been transferred to Ellie via the partnership agreement between Castalano and her father. It all came to her in case he died and had no heirs. Despite the fact that she doesn’t have to since he was under investigation for crimes at the time of his death, she wrote a substantial check to his widow.”
“That’s my Ellie.” She wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of the wife being impoverished. She’d always seemed mousy and quiet, like the kind of woman who had been ground down by life and a horrible husband.
“And she paid for Lily’s funeral,” Bran said quietly.
He was mad at Lily Gallo, but his anger meant nothing in the face of Ellie’s pain. “I wish I’d been there to hold her hand.”
“Drew and I took care of her.”
“I’m a little surprised she let you do that.” He’d expected she would pull away from them all.
The doors opened and Bran put a hand out to hold them. “She’s been very nice and more than a bit bossy about things. Drew got pissy at first, but then she pointed out that she kind of was the woman of the house. He might have said it was his damn house. That was when she threatened to take you and her amazing chocolate chip cookies with her. And that was when Drew decided he didn’t need to call it a war room anymore.”
Riley shook his head. “What?”
Drew was standing in the hallway, a wry smile on his face. “She took exception to the war room. She said she wasn’t allowing her children to be brought up in a home where there was a war room. So now my damn war room is being renovated.”
Bran held his hand up for a high five. “We’re getting a real live game room. Ellie’s geeking the whole place out.”
“Your wife is a pain in my ass,” Drew complained. “But I suppose she’s family so we’ll keep her. And you need to heal fast because her board is also a pain in my ass. I’ve signed over every share of my stock to you. You can deal with the fact that she’s decided to change the world through better management or some shit.”
Riley stopped, staring at Bran. “You told me she moved out.”
“Bran, you’re a mean shit,” Hatch said as he walked toward the elevator.
Bran grinned. “I am. Hey, I’m the little brother who never got to torture his older brothers. I have to make up for some seriously lost time. And the car is waiting for us. I have some amazing strip clubs on the menu for us tonight.”
Drew rolled his eyes as Hatch joined Bran. “I’ll be down in a minute. And we’re not going to a strip club. We’re going to a baseball game.”
“Oh, we’ll see what happens after,” Bran said with a mischievous grin.
The elevator doors closed and Drew put a hand on his shoulder. “You good?”
“I’m spectacular if my wife is still here and she’s fighting you on renovations. You know we can move.”
Drew shook his head. “Don’t. I’ve asked her to please stay. You two will be living here more often than the rest of us. Consider this place a wedding gift. I know eventually you’ll all move on, so let me have a little more time with my family. She did, however, move out of your room. I gave you two the master suite. She had that sucker redone in a week. I’ve never seen contractors work so fast. Apparently I like to live in a cave. Ellie likes the light. I think she’s going to be very good for you, brother.”
“For all of us if you let her. Have you thought about settling down?”
Drew stepped away. “Don’t. Don’t try to go there. I like Ellie, but you need to know I’m not getting married. I’m not having children.”
“Why?” He knew if he’d been asked the same question two months before he likely would have said the same thing Drew had. But now, with Ellie, the possibility of the future dangled in front of him like a ripe fruit he wasn’t about to let go of. “You can have a future, Drew.”
“Only if I let go of the past, and I’ll never do that.” The elevator doors opened again. “I’m going to take down Patricia Cain. I’ll leave all of you out of it, but I won’t rest until she’s in jail or dead. And I will find out who betrayed us.”
The doors closed and he was left alone. Except he was never really alone. Not ever again.
Though he ached for his brother, he needed to see her. She was the light in his life.
He turned down the hallway that led to the master suite.
When he stepped inside, he could see that Ellie had transformed his brother’s brooding masculine cave into something bright and lovely. The living a
rea of the suite was now a beautiful yellow. It was sunny. Like his Ellie.
“They told me you wouldn’t be here for another hour.” She was dressed in a pair of jeans that hugged her curves and a T-shirt, her feet bare. It was obvious she’d been moving things around, trying to get everything perfect.
For him. How could he tell her that the simple fact she was in a room made it perfect?
“My brothers lied. They told me you had moved out.”
She stopped in front of him, her hands coming up to cup his face. “Now, why would I do that?”
He could think of a few reasons. “I lied to you. I betrayed you.”
“You used to be a different man. Now you’re better. You were a bit of a fixer-upper, but then my own father was a murderous tyrant, so you’re really a step up for me.”
“Say it.” He needed to hear the words. He loved how sassy she was, how funny and smart, but now he simply needed to hear the words from her mouth. “Please.”
“I love you, Riley.”
He leaned over to kiss her. “I love you, Ellie. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it. Starting with christening this room. I don’t think this room has seen action in forever.”
Because big brother hadn’t figured out that there were more important things to life than revenge.
“Whoa,” she protested. “Did you forget the surgeries?”
No way she was getting out of this. He kissed her again, fully satisfied when she sagged against him. “You’ll have to be gentle with me, then. After all, you are the boss, Madam CEO. I’m a lowly lawyer.”
She laughed and went on her toes. “I think you know I have a gentle hand. Let’s see what we can do.”
He let her lead him back to the bedroom. It was past time to get started on a new generation of Lawless kids.
That was a plan he was sure his father would approve of.
Epilogue
Two months later
SAINT AUGUSTINE, FL
Bran looked at the girl as she sat in the outdoor dining area of the small Italian restaurant. She was supposed to be on a date.
Carly Fisher was putting her toe back into the dating field after a spectacularly bad marriage. Her ex-husband was now doing time in the state pen, and pretty Carly was trying her hand at Internet dating.
Yeah, that probably wasn’t going to work out for her. Unfortunately, her date was his brother Drew. He was planning on walking in and charming the woman and likely taking her to bed—all so he could get close to her boss.
Carly seemed to be a magnet for abusive shitheads. She worked for America’s leading lifestyle expert, Patricia Cain, who also happened to be one of the people who’d paid to have Bran’s parents assassinated.
Life hadn’t been particularly fair to the lovely Carly. She was a fluffy little thing, and by little, he simply meant smaller than him. He’d never once had a thing for tiny women. Tiny women broke. Though he was the smallest of his brothers, he was still six two and had packed on some serious muscle. He liked women he could hold on to. Women who could keep him warm because sometimes the world was really fucking cold.
“Is she in place?” Hatch asked over his earphone.
They were doing all kinds of spy shit. They had three different people watching the poor girl. “She’s settling in.”
“Good, we’ll let her stew for ten minutes or so,” Hatch explained. “Then I’ll send in Drew.”
They wanted her vulnerable, on edge. They wanted her insecure. She would likely look at Drew and wonder why he’d picked her, and Drew would lie and say he’d wanted her the minute he’d seen her picture.
Bran wasn’t sure he’d go that far, but she intrigued him. She didn’t dress for her body type. She was far too covered up. It was hot outside, but she’d worn jeans and a black shirt, likely because she’d been told black was slimming. She didn’t need to be slimmed. Her dark hair was pulled up in a ponytail. She frowned and looked down at the menu.
From what he’d read about her, he knew that Carly Fisher was twenty-eight years old. She’d grown up taking care of her younger sister. She’d put her sweet self through college and landed a job with the superawful Patricia Cain. She’d married and then found out her husband had only married her to get his hands in Patricia Cain’s cookie jar. Ah, embezzlement. It had been the end of her marriage but somehow not the end of her career.
Would she see Drew as her life finally turning around? Would she welcome him into her bed and her heart only to have it shattered when she realized the truth? She would lose her job and her lover. Would that be the final nail in the coffin of her optimism?
She didn’t look so optimistic. She bit her bottom lip and looked around as though ready to run.
Then the waiter stepped up and asked her a question.
When that girl smiled, the whole world lit up. He sat there for a moment staring at her because she was gorgeous when she smiled.
“Drew, you ready?” Hatch asked.
“I’m ready when you are,” Drew replied, his voice chilly.
Not when she was. Carly Fisher didn’t matter. Not to his brother.
Bran moved across the street, walking straight to the little outdoor café.
“Bran, what are you doing?” Drew asked.
The right thing. He tugged his earpiece free and tossed it away. Sometimes a man had to change up the game plan.
He pulled out the chair across from Carly. “Hey, my name is Brandon Lawless.”
She looked around like she was trying to figure out who was watching her. “Um, you have the wrong girl.”
He smiled at her. “Nope. I’ve got the right girl. Carly, your boss murdered my parents twenty years ago. What do you say you help me bring her to justice?”
“Are you insane?”
Yeah, he got that reaction a lot.
THE STORY CONTINUES IN THE NEXT LAWLESS NOVEL
Satisfaction
COMING SOON FROM BERKLEY.
TURN THE PAGE FOR A SNEAK PEEK . . .
LOS ANGELES, CA
Carly sat back and took a deep breath. It was over. Almost. One last thing and then she could go home and figure out exactly what to do with the rest of her life.
She could sell the car. It was the only viable asset she had. The house would go back to the bank. That hurt. She’d turned that little town house into something beautiful. She would be lucky to find an apartment building that would rent to her. Very likely she would end up working retail or at some fast food restaurant. Everything she’d worked for was one big steaming pile of crap.
That’s what happened when a girl fell for a slick con artist.
She’d lost her husband. She was about to lose her job, the domino that would send all the others falling—house, status, car. No more nice shoes for Carly. She would be lucky to have the money to buy secondhand, much less the Manolos and Prada she’d worn for the last few years because her boss insisted she look the part of Patricia Cain’s right arm. She’d learned really fast that Patricia Cain’s right arm wore some expensive shit. But then so did her left arm, ankle, knee, and every other part of her.
She was about to lose a job millions of women would kill for.
Thank God.
She tidied up her desk and prepared for the confrontation. Ever since that moment when the police had hauled Roger off in handcuffs, she’d known this was coming. Carly glanced down the hallway. She wished it could have happened while they were in Saint Augustine, where she wouldn’t have to find a way back home, but Los Angeles was as good a place as any to make her final stand.
The door to the office opened and Emily’s eyes flared as she took in the sight of Carly at her desk. “Kyle from accounting said you were here. I didn’t believe him. What are you doing?”
She was being brave for once. “I’m waiting to speak with Patricia.”
“Because you’re going to murder her?” Emily let the door slam behind her. “Oh God, you’re going to do it, aren’t you? Everyone’s always said one day her assistant would shoot her. I knew you would be the one to do it. You’re not an evil sheep like the rest of them.”
“I’m not going to shoot her.” Though she’d often thought about it.
Emily shot her a sympathetic look. “She had your husband arrested. No one would blame you.”
“The police would. Also the DA. Probably a jury of my peers, too. Roger embezzled a million dollars from Cain Corp. He deserves to go to jail.” She believed every single accusation leveled at her soon-to-be ex-husband. She would throw in a couple more. Cheating. Lying. Gambling. Running up her credit cards, which she soon would have no way to pay for. And she’d bought it all for two years. She’d been the one to get him the job here, where he’d managed to embezzle all that lovely money he’d spent on God knew what.
Now it was time to pay the piper. Or the righteous bitch, in this case. Patricia Cain would never pipe. Far below her dignity.
Emily worked on the magazine side of the business as a copy editor. She was a nice girl, one Carly always had lunch with when they were in LA. “Seriously, you should walk out. She’s going to be so mean to you.”
And that was different how? “I’m going to give her my letter of resignation and leave with some dignity.”
She had the cheapest ticket she could find in her purse. She left LAX for Jacksonville at eight tonight. She would find the cheapest wine she could and drown her sorrows.
And celebrate a little because she never had to see Patricia Cain’s cosmetically enhanced face again. She never had to deal with another of that woman’s issues. She was getting out right as the Queen of Domestic Bliss was planning her own wedding to a disgusting billionaire whose greatest talent seemed to be his ability to leer at women half his age and younger without a single ounce of shame.