by Wolfe, H. M.
Meanwhile, Mallory only had about a dozen shirts and three suits. With all the bonuses he got, the man couldn’t afford to get a nicer-looking car to impress his clients. So it was his lazier, but luckier co-workers who enjoyed the fruits of his hard work. A prisoner in the house he paid for every month, Mallory lived neglected and deprived of affection.
To make things even worse, his good-for-nothing parents suspected that something was not right with their son, so they had started pressuring him into dating wealthy heiresses. In their greed, the Ashburns didn’t care about their own son's feelings. Their master plan was to force him into a loveless marriage.
That was when Elliott came up with the idea of Christine passing as Mallory's girlfriend, which she had gladly accepted. It was easy for the girl to pretend, especially since she cared very much about her roommate’s co-worker. Deep down inside her soul, Christine wished she was together with Mallory, but she knew better than to make a move on him.
For a while, she hoped the two co-workers would form a couple but, although they got along exceptionally well, there was no spark, no sexual chemistry between the two of them. Both men planned to quit working at the law firm and open their own office instead, with Christine as their assistant. But before that, they had to work harder than ever to gain the money that would allow them to fulfill their dream.
The opportunity appeared sooner than any of them was expecting. Stark, Inc. and Bloom Enterprises, two of the greatest conglomerates of companies in the world were looking for a law firm that could ensure exclusive legal representation for their U.S. subsidiaries. As usual, Elliott and Mallory didn’t spare time or effort, and in the end, they convinced the senior partners that they were the best for the job.
Christine sighed again. Winning the contract would land a bonus of around a quarter million dollars in each of the young mens’ accounts. For Mallory, it would be the ticket to freedom, as he intended to give sixty percent of it to his parents before leaving the house where he was so poorly treated and regarded as nothing more than a checkbook.
”Who was that, Christine?” Elliott’s sleepy voice put a stop to the girl’s wandering thoughts.
”What do you mean?” the young woman asked, carefully examining the young man’s face. ”He looks so much better," she thought.
”I heard you, speaking with someone, but maybe I was dreaming,” the blond stretched his hands above his head, yawning.
”Oh, that!” Christine smiled, as she finally understood. ”Mallory called and asked how you were doing.”
But the blond wasn’t listening to her anymore. Frowning, he picked up a rectangular piece of paper off of the floor, inspecting it on both sides.”Where did this come from?” Elliott gestured to the object, giving it to his roommate.
”I don’t know, it’s a business card, or at least it looks like one.” Christine read the name on it, Eugene Brentano-Fenelli, but it didn’t ring any bells to her. Turning the card over to the back, she and Elliott stared at the few words written there: ”Call whenever you need me”.
CHAPTER 2
Alastair Stark pushed aside the pile of documents, frustrated beyond limits. Reading through merge or sale contracts and other companies-related legal documents weren’t exactly his favorite Saturday morning activities. The man let out a long sigh, thinking that, finally, in a few days, this responsibility would be taken off of his shoulders.
Helping Daniel with his corporation was Alastair’s idea in the first place so he couldn’t complain about it, but this kind of work tested his patience to no end, not to mention how it messed with his morning workout routine. However, Alastair was beyond grateful that Sylvester had insisted he should take those business law classes all those years ago.
Every time the former CIA director thought of his late husband, it was to remember the happy times they spent together. The first few years after Sylvester’s death, the pain was too great, so the widower preferred to drown himself in work, pushing the memories of the two of them to the back of his mind.
About two years after his husband died, Alastair made a desperate attempt to put the past behind him, so he went head first into a relationship with a woman two decades his junior. The man always knew he was bisexual and thought, by getting involved with a woman, he could get over the pain of losing Sylvester faster. But, instead of mending his heart, the new relationship had torn it into a million tiny pieces.
There wasn’t anyone in his life after that, and somehow Alastair had started to get used to the idea. He even thought that it was better this way, as his work at the CIA and the position of Supreme Dragon left him with little to no time for anything else. He religiously followed a strict routine and considered himself too old to change his ways for someone else.
Then, when Alastair himself had almost given up any hope of finding his deceased nephew’s lost son, he appeared out of the blue, turning the former Supreme Dragon’s life upside down. The rebellious, short-tempered young man had taught him, the calm, composed adult some valuable lessons about loyalty, friendship, dedication, and love.
A small smile played on Alastair’s lips, just like they did every time his thoughts wandered in that direction. Getting Daniel and Tarquin together was his idea, but not even he expected things to turn out as they did. According to the initial plan, the young Ballard should have got close enough to Fenelli’s adoptive son so he could collect the DNA samples Alastair needed so he could prove the man’s real identity.
Instead, Tarquin had hopelessly fallen in love with the target of his mission, his feelings being reciprocated from the start. Amazed, Alastair assisted to the incredible transformation of the two broken souls into two indestructible men, united by a love so strong that it could surpass even the most difficult obstacles.
One year had passed since the two of them were married, a few days after Tarquin’s twenty-first birthday, a year after they’d met for the first time. The former CIA director couldn’t think about that day without feeling a taste of bitterness on the tip of his tongue. It was, of course, because of Antonia Ballard, who had chosen to reject, again, her son’s choices and decisions.
Alastair shook his head, suddenly saddened about the whole situation, as he couldn’t understand how the woman could persist in her stubbornness and not see how happy Tarquin was with Daniel by his side. The former Supreme Dragon thought that the discussion he had with Antonia two years earlier would have made the woman understand her son better, to support and see him.
Tarquin’s mother only agreed with Alastair so she could get him out of her hair, but she showed her true colors by declining the invitation to his wedding. Fortunately, her absence hadn’t stolen anything from the beauty of the ceremony, on the contrary. The two men who had united their destinies forever radiated love and happiness, everyone who had attended their wedding could see that.
For Alastair, the day his great-nephew got married was the first time in almost two decades that he felt the emptiness surrounding his existence. During the day, his busy schedule barely allowed him to catch his breath, but as soon as the work ended, he was alone in his enormous, luxurious penthouse, with no one to keep him company.
A few days earlier, however, something had happened, making the head of the Stark family question his sanity. While visiting one of the law offices he was considering for the exclusive representation of the numerous companies the Starks and Blooms owed, Alastair had crossed paths with someone who stirred in him, all kind of feelings.
The former Dragons’ House leader thought all the emotions he was experiencing had died when his beloved Sylvester passed away, and that he'd buried them deeply. It turned out he was wrong. As they resurfaced, they mercilessly tormented Alastair, who desperately tried to get that chance encounter out of his mind, with no success.
Instead, he was haunted by a pair of big, chocolate-brown, incredibly beautiful eyes and the sadness he saw behind them. The possessor of those beautiful eyes had a well-proportioned body that begged him, with every f
iber of his being, to be held, hugged, explored, caressed and kissed all over.
Everything was perfect about the guy, except his age. By the way he looked, Alastair estimated him to be no more than thirty years old. He rolled his eyes at the thoughts invading his mind. What the hell could an old man like him, have to do with a guy young enough to be his son?
”For goodness sake, Alastair, you fucking pervert, get a grip! You don’t even know his name or what his sexual preferences are! Even if he was gay, he is most likely in a relationship, maybe even happily married. Stop thinking about him. You don’t have anything to offer to anyone.”
A noise coming from his laptop interrupted Alastair’s mental self-scolding. He went back to the desk, taking a look at his mailbox. Indeed, he had received a new email from one of the law offices on his list, Weldon, Somerset & Associates. The former Supreme Dragon’s heart started to pound faster in his chest, as he recognized the name. It was the firm where the man who had stolen the peace of his heart and mind worked.
Because of the significant number of big and small law offices interested in offering their services, Alastair came up with an effective method of selecting the most competent. He had required them to develop a complete representation plan. So far, all the projects he had received were good, but none of them succeeded in impressing him.
However, as soon as he started to read the email, Alastair knew he had a winner. The plan included all the problems the described situation could develop and presented multiple solutions in each case. Everything was detailed, no aspect was neglected, treated superficially or pushed aside.
Looking at the email, Alastair couldn’t stop from asking himself how many sleepless nights the guys in that team spent developing a project of such complexity. The man wanted to know the names of those in charge of it. So he took a look at the bottom of the document. M. Ashburn and E. Spellmann were the only names that appeared there.
The former CIA director found it hard to believe that the simulated situation was the work of two minds alone. However, if that was the case, the guys were brilliant, with vast experience and numerous exclusive clients. Alastair groaned in frustration, wishing it was already Monday so he could meet M. Ashburn and E. Spellmann.
The man felt he couldn’t wait any longer, so he picked up the phone, dialing the number of Weldon, Somerset & Associates. He wasn’t the impulsive type, the former leader of the Dragons’ House thought, but lately, his reactions were surprising, even for him.
”Weldon, Somerset & Associates, good morning, how may we help you?” the pleasant voice of a woman greeted from the other end of the line.
”Good morning, Alastair Stark speaking, I would like to meet with Mister Weldon, Mister Somerset or any other available senior partner from your office as soon as possible.
After some moments of silence, the woman spoke again. ” Mister Weldon is out of the city, but Mister Somerset will be available in two hours. Shall I make you an appointment then?”
"Yes, thank you very much," Alastair said, relief obvious in his voice. "I would like to make it three hours from now. I would appreciate very much if you could do that” he changed his mind.
”Anything else I could help you with, sir?”
”Yes, there is one more thing. Could you give me please some contact info for M. Ashburn and E. Spellmann?” Alastair said in a slightly tense voice.
”Of course, sir, I will give you the business and personal cell phone numbers for each of them. Although...” the woman abruptly stopped.
”Is something wrong?” The former Supreme Dragon’s voice filled with concern.
The woman sighed audibly. ”I am afraid there is," she said sympathetically. "Elliott is currently hospitalized, and Mallory is most likely by his side. The poor kid has no one except him and Christine."
There was something almost maternal in the woman’s voice, something that made Alastair suspect that she knew much more about the two lawyers than she told him. The assistant or whatever else she was, had a professional attitude until Spellmann and Ashburn, or Elliott and Mallory, came into discussion. From then on, she had shown Alastair her protective side, and he knew, in an instant, the woman was a valuable ally and source of information.
”Mister Stark, are you still there?” the woman asked, worriedly.
”Yes, I am still with you, ma’am. Sorry, I was carried away for a moment.” Alastair apologized. ”By any chance, do you know the name of the hospital where they took Elliott for treatment? I want to be of help,” he continued.
”Of course I know. It’s New York General Hospital because it’s the closest from Elliott’s house,” the answer came promptly.
”Thank you very much. I appreciate your help, ma’am. I have something more to ask you if it isn’t too much trouble.” Alastair asked hesitantly.
”Something is telling me that I am going to like whatever you’re going to ask me to do, so no, it’s no trouble at all, Mister Stark. The name’s Gloria, by the way.”
”Miss Gloria, I would like you to reschedule my appointment with your bosses. The boys are my top priority right now.”
”I had a feeling about you, Mister Stark, so I didn’t schedule an appointment. You are a nice guy, you know?” Alastair could sense the smile in the woman’s voice. ”Promise me something, please,” she continued.
”Anything for such a nice lady, Miss Gloria,” the man also smiled while saying the words.
”After you sign the contract, please don’t make the boys work themselves to death. But if you must, at least give them credit for their work. Trust them, believe in them, support them, don’t break their wings.” The woman suddenly stopped talking.
”I will do exactly what you told me to do, Miss Gloria. I give you my word,” Alastair said solemnly.
And he intended to keep that promise, whatever it would involve, because, from what the assistant from the law firm told him, there was something very wrong with the way the two young lawyers, Mallory and Elliott, were treated.
The woman mentioned that Spellmann, the one with health problems, checked in to the New York General Hospital for tests, so the former Supreme Dragon decided to start from there. Picking up the phone, he speeds dialed Victoria Stuyvesant’s number, waiting for the doctor to answer. As expected, she did almost instantly.
"Hello, Victoria, Alastair Stark speaking. I would like to ask a favor. I know it’s Saturday and you are probably home, relaxing in the company of Max and the boys, but it’s kind of an emergency and…”
”Come on, Mister Stark, no trouble at all! Actually, Max took the kids out, so I am all by myself. How can I be of help?”
Alastair smiled to himself. He didn’t have any doubt that Victoria would help him, that girl had a heart of gold. ”Could you find out the current status of one of the patients at the hospital? I only know his name, Elliott Spellmann, I couldn’t get more information to narrow down the search.” the man said in a guilty voice.
”That’s not much trouble at all. I think I can manage to find out the information you are interested in. Call me back in about ten minutes, please.”
”I’ll do that, thank you, dear,” Alastair replied gratefully.
He made himself busy straightening things around the apartment, not that everything wasn’t already neat and tidy. His military education and the almost two decades he spent in Sylvester’s company had a substantial impact on the man, almost turning him into a neat freak. Finally, Alastair checked his watch and, seeing that nearly fifteen minutes had passed since he called Victoria, so he redialed her number.
”It’s me again, dear, sorry for being so insistent, but did you manage to find out anything?”
”Perfect timing, Mister Stark, because I was about to call you. There is something very wrong with this whole story” Doctor Stuyvesant said in a concerned voice.
”What do you mean by wrong? How serious are Elliott’s health problems?” Alastair was starting to get worried. He couldn’t explain why, but he felt as
if his nephews, and not some stranger, were in that situation.
Victoria inhaled sharply. ”No one knows. The patient was brought into the hospital Thursday night, experiencing severe dizziness and headaches. He was accompanied by two people, a young woman in her early twenties and a man who appeared to be in his late twenties. They talked him into staying overnight, but that was it.”
”That was it...how? What do you want to say?” Confusion added to the intense worry Alastair experienced, the mixed feelings noticeable in his voice.
”On Friday morning, the patient asked to be discharged, insisting that he was fine. According to Mister Spellmann, the dizziness was a consequence of him not sleeping enough this week. He also refused to undergo any tests, in spite of his lady friend’s insistence.” Victoria sighed, frustrated about the whole situation.
”There is a thing I still don’t get," Alastair said in a thoughtful voice, after some moments of silence. ”If Elliott was in such bad shape, how could they discharge him just like that?”