Redemption (The Vault Book 1)

by Kate Benson

  COPYRIGHT AND LICENSE INFORMATION

  REDEMPTION

  Copyright © 2017 Kate Benson

  2017 Edition

  Cover art: Dana Leah at Designs by Dana

  Editing: Chasing Sophie Publications ©

  Formatting: Deena Rae —E-BookBuilders

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any informational storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is available in print from most online retailers

  2017 Edition License

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the appropriate retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  More From Kate

  About the Author

  Redemption

  Isabella

  After a humiliating breakup, I’m not afraid to admit my personal life has taken one hell of a hit. I’ve allowed myself time to lick my wounds and am not only confident my nights alone on the couch are numbered, I’ve got a solid plan for the first time in months.

  Focus on work, don’t worry about the rest.

  The last thing I need in my life right now is another complication.

  I’ve convinced myself it’s a flawless plan.

  I just have to stay off Adam Avery’s radar and I’ll be fine.

  Now that I’ve met him, I’m not sure I want to be anywhere else.

  Adam

  I’ve been my father’s best kept dirty secret for more than three decades.

  When my uncle, the CEO of Avery Finance, is forced into early retirement, he appoints me as his unlikely successor and the media goes into a frenzy.

  For an admitted recluse, it’s definitely a challenge, but I’ve never shied away from those before.

  I just need to stay focused, in control and avoid distraction.

  Unfortunately, Isabella Baxter might be the one distraction I can’t resist.

  Redemption is a multi-pov spin-off from The Promise Series.

  Dedication

  For my favorite reclusive control freak.

  I love you.

  Acknowledgments

  I’m always overcome with so much gratefulness at the end of every completed project and this was no exception. I’ve dreamed of doing this since I was young, so the blessing of its reality is never lost on me. I’ve loved every minute of meeting Adam and Isabella and can’t wait to see more from them. To do so in an anthology with so many amazing and talented authors? Well, that’s just been the icing on an already pretty delicious cake.

  My first praise goes to God and the universe for giving me the drive and desire to keep at it every day.

  To my husband, Sean, for being the best at everything always and for loving me relentlessly even though I’m at least a half an inch crazy on all counts. Love you, baby.

  My parents. I love you. I miss you. I hope your proud of me like I am of you.

  To my family and friends, I love you more.

  My amazing PA’s Heather and Charlie for making me look like I have my life together. You’re two of my favorites and I love you both.

  My alpha squad for this project: Heather, Charlie, Nikki, Jenna, Christie, Patti and Michelle. How you deal with my harassment and still come back with constructive feedback, I’ll never know, but I love you for it.

  My readers and the girls of Benson’s Book Babes: You’re the melty vanilla ice cream on the world’s best piece of Dutch apple pie.

  I love you. I love you. I love you.

  Special thank you to: Michelle Dare (love you), Angel Justice, Dana Leah at Designs by Dana for my amazing cover, Deena Schoenfeldt with eBook Builders for the beautiful formatting, Nita Banks, Angie Tucker, Tabitha Charisse, The Rock Stars of Romance, Give Me Books, Kylie’s Fiction Addiction and all the amazing blogs, pages and overall awesome people who have helped promote this project. All of you knock my mismatched socks off.

  And last, but never least, my characters: Thank you for finding me and trusting me with your stories. I love you more than the world may ever know... especially Sophie.

  Xo Kate

  Redemption

  Chapter One

  Isabella

  “You’re gonna be late… you cannot be late,” I chant, grabbing my travel mug and making a sprint across my apartment toward the front door, cursing the deadbolt when it catches. “If you’re late, Sabrina will flip and if Sabrina flips, your life will enter the seventh circle of hell.”

  I throw myself into the car, a string of profanity slipping out as I see the time glowing from within the dash. I immediately peel out and nearly spill coffee all over my skirt.

  I’d like to tell you I’m running late because I was out all night, partying with my friends. I’d like even more to tell you that I hooked up with some random guy who rocked my world so hard we kept my elderly neighbors awake until three in the morning.

  Both would be a lie.

  I was up late binge watching Netflix, slumped against my futon while I gorged myself on low-fat ice cream in my underwear. That statement probably wouldn’t sound quite as depressing if it hadn’t been the third night this week.

  Glamorous, I know.

  The truth is, I’ve never given much thought to how inactive my social life is. In fact, I hadn’t thought about it at all until a couple of weeks ago. I’d been content with my laidback routine for the better part of a year, but I wasn’t on my own then. At least, I didn’t know I was.

  Now? Now, I’m very much on my own.

  I’m not a total lost cause. I have a few close friends, but most are part of a couple. Since Ben and I split, the last thing I want to become is a third wheel or someone’s matchmaking project.

  Besides, I need to focus on me for a while. Focus on the career I’d pushed to the side a year ago when I met the man I thought would be my happy ending, only to find out I was little more than a binge for him, as well.

  That is if I can manage to get my ass to work on time.

  Thirty minutes later, I slam on the breaks in front of the familiar high rise on Broadway and shove my door open quickly.

  I wonder if he ever ‘fessed up to his real girlfriend?

  “Stop it,” I admonish myself as I toss my flats into the floorboard, slipping on my heels and moving toward the entrance. “The guy was a lying, cheating, good-for-nothing creep and you’re late.”

  I shake my head clear and release the deep breath lodged inside my chest, trying my best to push all the negative shit away from my mind.

  “Good morning, Mr. Frank,” I smile, flashing my badge toward the heavyset security guard who has been here to greet employees every morning for more than forty years an
d me personally for the past four.

  “Buongiorno, Isabella,” he says with a toothy grin in his deep voice, gravelly with age and making my smile widen. “When are you gonna let me take you on a date?”

  “Mr. Frank, you know you’re the only man in my life,” I give him a playful wink, chuckling when he lets out a loud hoot. “Have a good day!”

  “I will, doll face,” he calls after me. “You do the same.”

  I may have my qualms about my career, same as most anyone. If I’m being honest, though, it’s a great job. I officially started at Avery Financial immediately after completing my college internship here and I count myself just as lucky now as I was then to have it.

  Is the work always exciting? No, not really, but I’m doing something I like. Despite my free-spirit, advertising is something I’d gravitated to early in college. The fact that I’m able to get paid doing something I both enjoy and am good at? Well, I’d be crazy to ever complain about that.

  I shake the thought and make my way to the elevators, hoping like hell when I step off, my supervisor will already be holed up in her office for the morning. As the doors slide open, I poke my head out and breathe a sigh of relief as I see the floor mostly empty.

  “Oh, praise Jesus,” I whisper, stepping out quickly as I glance over my shoulder, walking directly into a well-tailored chest with an umph that jostles my coffee. “Jeez! Would you watch where you’re going?”

  “Running late?” I hear through my grumble as I scan myself for any sign of spilled coffee.

  “Why don’t you-?” I start, promptly biting my tongue when I see who is attached to the well-tailored suit I’ve just slammed into.

  Adam Avery, as in Avery Finance, as in the newest CEO and the man who has the power to ruin my life with the mere suggestion of my replacement.

  I don’t know much about him. What I do know is the media went insane when he seemingly came out of the shadows to take over the company a month ago when his uncle, the former CEO, fell ill. None of us have any idea where he came from and he seems just fine keeping it that way.

  We were all heartbroken to see Richard Avery go. Despite the rumors swirling around his family after his nephew arrived, he was such a sweet and caring man who was very well-loved by his employees. We’d hoped keeping the business in the Avery family would prove to produce another wonderful boss.

  Instead, we got the only Avery qualified to run this company: the well-built, stone-faced demigod in front of me.

  And I just spilled my hazelnut latte all over his tie.

  “Go on,” he arches his brow while the rest of his face stays put, staring down at me expectantly.

  “Shit…” I blurt, my cheeks heating wildly when he tilts his head in further surprise at my objectionable behavior. “I’m sorry,” I manage, searching around me for something to help clean the spill. “Let me just…”

  When my surroundings give me nothing, I quickly reach into my bag for a receipt from the gas station and begin awkwardly attempting to help. I manage to soak up some of the liquid, but as I begin to scrub at the silk tie that was likely worth half my weekly salary, it’s not looking any better. In fact, it seems to be getting worse by the minute.

  “Can you please stop?” he finally says as he squares his jaw, putting us both out of our temporary misery as my eyes come back to his. “Just go.”

  “Okay,” I nod as I internally kick myself, stopping when I hear him clear his throat once more. “Yes?”

  “Which department are you in?”

  “Marketing and advertising,” I answer, pulling a nod from him.

  “Sabrina Michaels is your direct superior?”

  “Yes,” I mutter.

  “Perfect,” he squares his shoulders as he moves back toward his office without another glance in my direction. “Let her know I’d like a word with her.”

  Fuck. Me.

  Adam

  As if I didn’t have enough to worry about this morning, I could add smelling like a stale gym sock to my agenda thanks to my little rendezvous on the main floor with...

  I didn’t catch her name.

  I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed her the first week I arrived. She’s tall, petite and her long mahogany locks make her blue eyes pop. She’s everything any hot blooded man would notice, I just don’t have time for anything more than the mountain of paperwork on my desk at the moment. My assistant, Richard’s assistant, hasn’t shown up to work after it was announced he wouldn’t be returning, leaving an ill-equipped temp named Margaret in her place.

  Margaret isn’t helping anyone.

  I’ve spent my first month here fighting to not become overwhelmed. I’ve done the legwork, buried myself in the tasks Richard left in the air when he was forced into early retirement, but I still feel like I’m running a marathon most days.

  Was I surprised when I found out he’d passed on his company to me? Maybe, but with my absentee father dead and my cousin, Simon, in an out of rehab for the better part of a year after snorting up the bulk of his inheritance, I can’t say it comes as a complete shock. He’s always said he wanted to keep this business in the family and despite the tumultuous relationship I’d had with my father, I’ve always maintained a positive one with Richard. He’s one of the few ties I have to the Avery name.

  The first order of business on my agenda is to finish getting up to speed on what could potentially be one of the most lucrative contracts in this company’s history. My uncle had worked tirelessly to get the project up and running, speaking to me about it often, so I know it’s something that means much to him. Not only do I not want to let him down, I don’t want to let myself down, either.

  Everything I’ve done since I stepped through those doors four weeks ago has been building up to this.

  Failure is not an option.

  When my mother got pregnant with me, my father failed to mention he was married to another woman. Instead of being a man and taking responsibility, he bolted, only offering minimal support when my mother threatened to go to the media and reveal the kind of man he truly was.

  Needless to say, there was no real support from my father growing up and I watched my mother struggle for years as a single parent. I’d maintained a relationship with my uncle and paternal grandmother, but for the most part, I’m an Avery by default. Once I was of age, I’d even considered changing my name altogether, but resentment is a tricky thing and I’ve never been one to resist a good old-fashioned grudge. As much as I hated the man, having any other name than Avery would make things far too easy on dear old dad.

  I busted my ass through school making the first of my fortune a year ago, selling the internet-based company I’d started in college. Now, I’m sitting pretty as a CEO of a major corporation.

  It hasn’t come without its complications. When Richard announced his retirement and my immediate appointment as CEO, I became the dirty little secret my father had been hiding for more than thirty years. The first couple of weeks were admittedly hard. I was harassed by the media. Day and night, I was followed and ridiculed, both my competence and bloodline in question. Reporters wanted the inside scoop of how my father had kept his extramarital affairs a secret, wondering where I’d been hiding along with them.

  I haven’t been hiding anywhere. I’ve been preparing for this my whole life.

  Like I said, resentment is a tricky thing.

  I’m proud, ambitious, driven and determined… determined to prove my father wrong for all the times he called me a worthless bastard, even if it means doing it as he rots six feet beneath the earth.

  My father’s name might have helped me get this company, but I don’t need anything else from him to keep it.

  The buzz from the intercom and the voice that follows pulls me from my bitter thoughts. I release a long, cleansing breath and I face it, pressing the button.

  “Yes?”

  “Mrs. Michaels is here to see you, sir.”

  “Please send her in.”

  A moment late
r, a small-framed older woman with prominent features and a nervous smile makes her way into my office, her lips falling when my lips don’t turn up in response.

  “Good morning, Mr. Avery. It’s nice to finally meet you,” she begins. “You asked to see me?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I confirm with a curt nod, gesturing toward the vacant chair in front of my desk. “Please have a seat.”

  “Thank you,” she smiles once more, settling in front of me before giving me her full attention. “Is there something I can do for you, sir?”

  “There is,” I nod, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. “One of the women in your department, the one who asked you to see me?” I begin, her eyes shifting in understanding. “What is her name and what position does she hold in your department?”

  “Isabella Baxter,” she says immediately. “She’s my assistant and works directly under me. However she also spearheads a few of our smaller campaigns.”

  “Does she?” I ask, raising my eyes from the screen in front of me that holds Miss Baxter’s personal file. “Which accounts are hers?”

  She mentions accounts I’ve heard little about, but are familiar from lists I’ve been going over since my arrival. She’s trying her best to remain calm, but I can tell by her body language, the way she discreetly begins to wring her hands in her lap, she’s nervous.

  This isn’t the first time I’ve made someone nervous.

  “Would you say she’s an asset to your department?” I ask, resting back in my chair. “Is she competent? Reliable? Knowledgeable?”

  “She has been for years, sir,” she nods. “However, she’s been having some personal issues recently that have caused her to not be quite herself lately.”

  “Personal issues have no place here,” I cut her off, pulling another nod of understanding. “This is a business.”

  “I agree, sir,” she says. “I plan to address the issue and give you my word it will be taken care of. There won’t be any future incidents with Miss Baxter.”