Perhaps she wouldn’t want to know the truth. Julian felt his heart clench at the idea of keeping Cora at arm’s length. Because isn’t that what he would be doing by holding a piece of himself back? But Julian didn’t want to rattle her. And he sure as fuck didn’t want to scare her away. Not after he had just found her.
Julian ran a thumb down his chin, thinking fast.
No. He would stay quiet for now. He wanted to speak with Paulson first. He wanted to make sure he was correct about the murder charge. Julian was absolutely positive Karen would never be able to commit murder.
But Cora Rámon?
He wasn’t sure.
Two
“They’re ready for us to board, Mr. Benedict,” Cora said quietly.
Julian nodded and followed her out of the hangar and towards his private jet. Cora had felt that it would be more appropriate to call Julian “Mr. Benedict” in public so as not to cause any raised eyebrows.
The gesture was a good one but she soon realized how futile it was as they took their seats on the plane. Sitting on the gleaming walnut side table were fresh copies of today’s papers. Emblazoned on the front page of every paper were the pictures of Julian and her, standing close and intimately together. Cora couldn’t read French but she had a damn good idea what the headlines said. ‘Mystery woman’ could only be spelled so many ways, regardless of language.
Was that what was bothering Julian? Since waking up from the most incredible and passionate night of lovemaking, Cora had felt the sudden and quite surprising shift in Julian’s attitude towards her. He wasn’t necessarily cold but he was aloof and more than a little removed. He reminded her of the man she had met when she first interviewed at JB Enterprises—a skeptical and calculating CEO who wasn’t quite sure he believed what he saw.
Cora watched silently as the captain of the plane came out of the cockpit to shake hands with Julian, confirming the flight plan. They were en route back to New York. All the business in Europe had been handled successfully and it was time to head back home. Cora watched as Julian nodded to whatever the captain was saying. She admired his strong, defined jawline which was lightly stubbled. Even relaxed, the man had an air of strength and control which made Cora’s pulse quicken.
What had changed between them?
Although it made her stomach turn into an icy knot to think it, perhaps he regretted what happened last night? Perhaps he was realizing now that all he had wanted was a one night stand and it just so happened his assistant was the nearest available pair of legs.
But then she remembered his sincerity at the Musee d’Orsay. She remembered his kindness and his intelligence as they had strolled the halls of the museum. Could such a man also be so callous as to toss a lover after one night?
He’s the Model Millionaire, dummy, Cora realized with an internal groan.
How many countless newspapers and magazines had she seen with Julian’s arm around a beautiful nameless woman? Just like the papers that held Cora’s pictures from last night. And how many times did Cora see Julian with those same women again?
Zero.
As the plane revved up its engines and began its take off procedure, Cora felt the slow trickle of icy doubt fill her veins. If all he wanted was sex, surely she was adult enough to understand that. Cora understood, probably more than Julian, the baser nature of people—particularly men.
But it wasn’t for a lack of understanding that Cora felt her heart ache. It was because she had also thought last night as more than just sex. She had felt a warmth and a kind of truth in Julian’s arms that rang very deeply in her heart. She was sure that it had been mutual. The feeling had been too real, too potent for both to not have felt it together.
And yet….
With the plane safely in the air now, Cora unbuckled her seatbelt and slumped back in her leather-cushioned seat. All morning, Julian had barely said more than a dozen words to her. She doubted he’d say anything during the fli—
“You said that you grew up in Mexico,” Julian’s voice suddenly cut through Cora’s gloomy fog.
Snapping her head around, Cora stared in surprise at Julian.
Although he looked as if he was lounging in his seat, his long legs crossed casually at the ankles in front of him, there was a tenseness in his shoulders that was quite apparent to Cora. He was looking directly at her, almost studying her.
Feeling a little bit confused and nervous, Cora nodded. “Yes, southern Mexico.”
Julian’s eyes didn’t waver. “And you said you came to the States a few years ago. To Arizona first.”
It was slow but now the wary nerves of her spine began to prick up in awareness. Cora knew she had to be careful. Whenever it came to her past, she always had to be careful. Luckily, she had never had much problem with nosy employers or landlords. She hoped her luck would continue here.
“Yes,” she said in a measured tone. “I came to Arizona and was there for two years before moving to New York.”
Julian interlaced his fingers and laid his hands on his belly and leaned his head back against his seat, perfectly emitting the look of a man having a casual conversation. But Cora wasn’t fooled. She saw the sharpness in his eyes.
“I would imagine it quite difficult to make it from Mexico to the States on your own. Did your family help you? Your father? Your mother?”
Cora shook her head. “I saved up money and worked very hard to make it to Arizona. Coming to the States was something that only seemed to appeal to me. No one else in my family cared to come.”
“And I take it from you said before that you don’t keep in regular contact with your family,” he said.
“Not particularly, no. We’re all adults with our own lives now,” Cora said, trying hard to sound natural. “I think it’s normal for distance and time to make communication a little less frequent.”
Feeling her palms itch and wanting the conversation to end, Cora used the only defense she knew—asking him about his family.
“What about you, sir? Are you close with your father? Your mother?” she asked, feigning innocent curiosity.
But instead of an abrupt cold shutdown, Julian surprised her by slowly shaking his head. “My mother passed when I was very young. I don’t have too many memories of her. And my father died when I was about twenty.”
Surprised, Cora had no idea how to respond.
Taking advantage of her silence, Julian pressed on, “My father was a well-known and respected engineer for many years.” He gave her a meaningful look of expectation.
But Cora only nodded blankly. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said quietly before turning towards the window.
Julian sighed. As soon as the plane landed, he would be calling Paulson.
Three
Julian’s driver weaved the car in and out through the busy New York traffic. He knew he should stop by the office first and meet with Trisha to touch bases on some of the deals that had been made in Europe but he was too antsy to sit through any kind of meeting right now.
Dialing Paulson’s number, Julian thought back to the plane ride. He probably shouldn’t have probed her so much before he could confirm Paulson’s information but he couldn’t help himself. He had spent the entire plane ride looking at Cora with new eyes. Knowing that she could possibly be his Karen, Julian couldn’t help but analyze her feature anew again, looking for old similarities.
He wasn’t surprised she didn’t recognize his comment about his father being an engineer. Anybody could be an engineer and besides, he highly doubted a ten year old would remember her stepfather’s career.
They had been a family (if that’s what one could call it) for such a short time. Less than a year. But Julian had never forgotten the stirring protectiveness that had bloomed within him the moment he had laid eyes on Karen. If Cora really was that hurt and lost little girl from fifteen years ago, he would do everything in his power to make up for every pain, every scar she had endured.
“Chief?” the gravelly voice answe
red.
“Paulson, where are you now?”
“Mexico City. I’ve been trying to follow back Cora’s trail.”
“Alright, good. But in an hour, I want you to email me everything you’ve found on Cora. Include everything. And keep your phone handy. I’ll be calling again to get a full report.”
“You got it, chief.”
Julian looked out the window, blindly staring at the passing cars and people. He was so close.
So close.
Cora threw her suitcase in the corner of her small apartment as she plopped face first into her sofa. The flying, the meetings, the phone calls, and most of all the emotions of the last few days had been more than draining. She could feel every muscle ready to turn into jello as she laid on the couch.
Whatever had changed within Julian, it certainly wasn’t what Cora expected. If all he had wanted was a one night stand and a morning of no complications, why would he bother to question her about her family or her background? It was unusual indeed.
But at the moment, Cora was too exhausted to figure out her mysterious employer. As she debated whether she had the energy to change her clothes before passing out on her bed, she heard her phone ring. But it wasn’t the normal ringing chimes of her work smartphone.
It was the short buzzy beeps of her other phone.
Cora’s entire body tensed within half a second of hearing the ring. After a moment’s hesitation, she quickly rose and opened the bottom drawer of her bureau. Reaching into the back behind a stack of thick sweaters, she pulled out a cheap, beat up old phone. It buzzed vigorously in her hand.
There was only one person who knew this number. There was only one person she had kept this number for.
Slowly breathing out, Cora flipped open the phone and pressed ‘answer.’
“Cora?” a frantic voice called out.
Squeezing her eyes shut, wishing she had never heard the phone, Cora nodded and answered, “Yes, mom. It’s me.”
Gloria huffed a breath. “I’ve been calling you for days! Why haven’t you answered?”
Cora looked down and noticed her hands balled into fists. As she carefully tried to relax her hands, she replied, “I’ve been out of town for work.”
“I’m your mother, Cora. Shouldn’t you have taken your phone with you so you can answer my calls? Or at the very least, tell me where you are or where you are going so I’d know?”
It was a guilt trap and Cora was not falling for it. Although Gloria knew her daughter was in the States, she wasn’t sure which state. And Cora liked to keep it like that.
“Is something wrong, mom?” Cora asked, trying to get to the point of the call so she could hang up sooner. “Do you need something?”
“You need to send me money. Two thousand would be good. Five thousand would be better,” Gloria said immediately.
“Five thousand? Why so much this time?” Cora’s neck prickled in preparation for the worst.
“Carlos thinks I stole that last package. He’s demanding I pay for it. He says I can pay the wholesale price. It should be at about three grand but I think I can talk him into taking two. But like I said, if you sent five, I’d feel safer. Just in case.”
“Did you steal the package?” Cora wasn’t sure she’d believe any answer her mother gave her.
“Cora! Do you think I’m stupid? Of course not! I got robbed! But that’s no good to Carlos. You know how he is,” Gloria sniffed.
Oh Cora certainly knew how he was.
“Okay. That’s a lot of money. Let me see what I can do and I’ll try to get it to you soon.”
“Remember,” Gloria said earnestly, “two is good. Five would be better.”
As Cora snapped the phone shut, she could feel all her body heat drain down her spine. Shivering, she huddled into a corner of the couch. She pulled her knees up and huddled into a protective ball.
Every time Gloria called, the awful memories were triggered and there was nothing Cora could do to fight them off. All she could do was hold on to something and let them come.
Four
If always getting into the wrong situation were a competition, Gloria would lead the pack as world champion. Motivated always by equal parts laziness, greed, narcissism, and selfishness, Gloria had a natural knack for finding herself in often dangerous and sometimes illegal situations.
It was around the time when Cora was about fifteen when Gloria met Carlos Vilas. Carlos was a middle-aged man with slick greasy black hair, a thick equally greasy mustache, and a thriving drug cartel business.
Gloria had immediately been attracted to the kind of power Carlos wielded over his small empire. By positioning himself in the southern tip of Mexico, he was at the perfect junction to meet smugglers from Central and South America. This meant huge profits for Carlos. And huge profits were translated into a sprawling mansion and several luxury cars. He even had the several acres surrounding his mansion turned into a sort of compound for him and his cartel.
After years of literally eating garbage and sleeping on the streets, Gloria couldn’t have been more taken with Carlos. And Carlos loved the idea of having a gringa woman by his side. It wasn’t long before Gloria was soon living at the mansion and it took even less time before she was making short drug runs for Carlos.
As a white woman, she’d get stopped less and would be less suspicious, Carlos explained. And it wasn’t as if she was smuggling the drugs to America. She was just moving small packages from one dealer to another within Mexico.
Cora, who had felt too uncomfortable with the leering gazes of Carlos and his men, had decided to stay in a small shack a few miles down from Gloria and her mansion.
Gloria would stop by often with some money and food and several dozen stories of how wonderful life was for her. Cora knew Gloria liked having the mansion and Carlos’s attention all to herself. She didn’t want to share the luxuries of a drug queen life with her daughter and appreciated Cora keeping a safe distance away. She had also seen how Carlos had looked at Cora and wanted to make sure her position as his main woman was secure. Secretly, Cora was sure that Gloria knew somewhere deep inside that Carlos did not care for her the way Gloria cared for him. And that made the older woman constantly on edge.
And for a year or two, life had remained precariously calm. Cora had even found work as a waitress for a tiny little restaurant at the edge of town. She was slowly saving up money for what she hoped would be her ticket to somewhere bigger, perhaps Mexico City. And from there, America? She could only dare to dream.
But late one night, as she was leaving the restaurant, a man followed her down her normal alley home. Cora had felt his presence but had maintained a speedy pace in hopes of outracing him.
As she turned a corner, she thought she had lost the man. Breathing a sigh of relief, she continued on her way. But only two steps later, she felt a sweaty palm fall over her mouth as a slurring voice murmured in her ear, “Chicaaa….”
Cora fought with all her strength. Although the man wasn’t particularly tall, he was big. He had to easily weigh over two hundred and fifty pounds. And he was drunk, making his movements sloppy and heavy.
He grabbed at her shorts and ripped the zipper open. His hands groped her breasts, feeling them with such perverse intimacy that tears immediately sprang to Cora’s eyes.
Although she could feel herself losing the battle, Cora never screamed. In this kind of neighborhood, screaming had a better chance of bringing on more trouble than help.
But when the man’s thick fingers slipped between her legs, plunging into her dry, unwilling pussy, Cora couldn’t help but shriek. Feeling against the alley wall behind her, she grabbed whatever was at hand. A sizeable chunk of loose wood was only a foot away from her. Twisting and squirming towards it, she grabbed it and thumped the man as hard as she could on the back of his neck.
At first, the man seemed completely unfazed. Cora hit him again, using every ounce of strength she had. Finally the man’s fumbling hands paused as he froze before
slumping forward into a large doughy heap.
And it was precisely at that moment, when she was carrying her bloody battering stick, that the police arrived.
The man was immediately identified as an off-duty police officer. Completely ignoring her bruises and her cries of attempted rape, the police promptly arrested her and threw her in prison where she was charged with murder.
She sat in jail for three days before Gloria finally came to see her. “I told Carlos. He’ll fix it. He promised he’d fix it,” she had said through the bars. Cora fervently hoped he could but wasn’t sure how. The police were just as crooked and corrupt as the drug lords. It would take quite a lot of work to have them waive a murder charge.
Cora had been a little surprised at how urgently Gloria had worked on Carlos to help her daughter. But then again, one thing Gloria hated above all else was being alone. And Cora suspected that in case something bad happened with Carlos, Gloria saw her as insurance against ever being alone.
It had taken nearly two weeks but finally the police chief and Carlos had made a deal. Cora wasn’t sure how much money or goods were exchanged but she was sure it couldn’t have come cheap.
After being released, she saw Carlos and Gloria waiting for her in a shiny Rolls Royce.
“This is my gift, preciosa,” Carlos had said to her, regarding the charge waive. He held up one stubby finger, studded with thick gold rings. “But remember who gave it to you.” Running a hand across his mustache, he added, “And who can take it back.”
Cora wasn’t sure what that meant but she could tell it was a threat. She wondered what she’d have to do to pay the man back for his “gift.” But within a day or two, she realized she might not ever have to worry about it again.
It was only two days later when Cora woke up to her mother’s note and the few pesos she had left her, telling her daughter of her leaving. Carlos had packed up everything within his compound and had suddenly moved. Gloria had followed him and hadn’t asked Cora to come along.
The Billionaire's Step - Complete Series (Forbidden Billionaire Stepbrother Romance) Page 6