101 Nights Box Set: Volume One

by SE Reign

  I open Alisha’s first.

  I figured it out! Can you meet me for coffee at one?

  I glance at the time. It’s nearly eleven. I don’t know how I’m going to sneak out, but maybe I can see Alisha then go to the hospital. While curious, I no longer feel compelled to uncover dirt on Elijah. I send her a quick confirmation then move onto the next. It’s from the mystery texter.

  In fact, the next five are. They all say the same thing and have another video attachment.

  “Watch this.” I read. I read all five. The videos all look the same. What could be so important that they sent it five times?

  What if it’s something I really don’t want to see?

  There’s a tremor in my chest, one that feels cold, and I’m starting to sweat. Maybe there’s a part of me that fears learning something about Elijah that I can’t live with, even knowing I’m in too deep.

  Was last night so powerful that it changed how I feel about him that easily?

  No. This is a business deal with a man who is ruthless and heartless at best.

  I flip my phone sideways and click the play icon on the video.

  The footage was taken through a window overlooking a balcony. I can see the reflection of ceiling lights. The orchestral music is familiar, and I realize the video was from last night at the museum.

  The person recording the video zooms in to the lone figure standing on the balcony. It’s Elijah, and I study him.

  I’ve never seen that look on his face before. He’s upset about something, and I realize my instinct about him last night is correct. Whatever conversation he had with his aunt, it didn’t go well. What could she have said to affect him so much in the short time I saw them together?

  I feel his pain. I’ve always been good at picking it up in people, and I’m surprised I never realized that’s what it is before. The black history he’s hinted at has scarred him, and in this moment on the video, he’s vulnerable.

  I can help him. I know I can, if he’ll let me.

  I’m starting to wonder what on earth is incriminating about the video. The balcony door opens, and I expect to see me come out. Did they film us dancing? Kissing? Talking?

  It’s not me who walks onto the balcony but a beautiful blonde, a model-turned actress I recognize from a ton of magazine covers. She’s the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen, dressed in red with her blonde hair up. She’s everything I assumed Elijah wanted in a woman: a double zero waist size with double D breasts. Tall, ethereal …

  “Wow.” She’s more amazing than she appears on the airbrushed covers.

  I watch her approach Elijah. He turns, and they talk, a smile crossing his features. He knows her, I’m guessing. The blonde sidles nearer and seconds later, they’re kissing.

  My breath catches in my chest. I watch, appalled by the passion they share. The woman tugs up her dress to her hips and plants one leg against the railing to give him access to her pussy. Her hands are in front of her. Her head lolls back, as if she, too, knows how incredible that first thrust of his dick is.

  The video shuts off.

  My hands are trembling, my breathing shallow.

  “Business deal, Natty,” I whisper. “That’s it.”

  One week into our arrangement, and one day into our faux engagement, and he’s fucking another girl.

  Not ten minutes before I walked out there, I’m guessing. Granted, the blonde is breathtaking, everything I’m not. No wonder he was so calm when I walked out there. He’d already gotten laid.

  This is who I know Elijah to be, the womanizing, heartless user that his aunt warned me about. But I knew this, too, I just …

  … forgot? Didn’t want to admit it after such an awesome night? Spent a week convincing myself that he’s not that bad?

  I watch the video again, hardening myself. I’m not going to cry over a man I know is rotten on the inside. I’m not going to look for something good in him. I know better.

  But why does it hurt?

  “Thank god I didn’t cancel on Alisha,” I mumble.

  Shaking my head, I delete all but one of those messages and go to my mother’s texts. Sometimes I have to be in the mood for her long, rambling texts. She’s sent me a huge one this time, and I sit down in front of the quiet television to read it, still stinging from being burned by a man I know I shouldn’t trust.

  I can’t stop thinking about last night for a different reason, one that disgusts me. Did he fuck her then fuck me without at least cleaning himself off?

  Why are my hands shaking?

  Not worth my emotions! My throat is tight and I feel ready to cry. I don’t know why. It’s so stupid!

  I focus on my mother’s long ass text.

  Hi Baby. Your father is doing fine – thank you for asking.

  “Double shit!” How could I forget about him being in the hospital? There’s no way under the sun I’m letting Elijah near my parents. I’ll have to make up some excuse to tell mom. I hate lying to my parents, but I’d rather do that than expose them to Elijah.

  Returning to her text, I’m suddenly too restless and upset to sit still. I stand and pace to the wall of windows overlooking a park.

  “Father is doing fine,” I read again, grateful. It’s the only good piece of information I’ve had in a week.

  It’s not my place, and you’re a grown woman with a good head on her shoulders but I came to see you yesterday. No one would let me come see you or tell me how you are but EJ talked to me for a few minutes. I am sorry, baby but I don’t like him. He said you were too busy to come down and when I told him about your father … I shouldn’t be telling you this.

  I hold my breath, horrified that my own mother had been turned away yesterday, and Elijah hadn’t said anything to me about her visit.

  Nothing!

  I’m so upset with him, I can hardly see straight but force myself to continue reading, even though the dread in my stomach has turned into something much heavier and angrier.

  … be telling you this. You’ve been acting weird since you started seeing him. He is not a good man, Natty. I think he tried to bribe me into not coming back. Said he’d pay for your father’s treatment on the condition that we stay out of your life. We need the money but my daughter’s not for sale. I’m sorry baby. If you love him, then I will never say another word, but I’m worried about you.

  Her words crush me. I don’t know what to say or think. My mother knows me too well, suspects more than anyone else could. I can’t believe that Elijah would try to blackmail her.

  “Yes, I can.”

  There’s a part of me that thinks I’d gladly agree not to see my parents again, if I knew my father’s life could be saved with what would account to pocket change for Elijah.

  Oh, god! Is that his next step in his mission to control every aspect of my life? To drive away my friends and family? Why does he want my parents to stay away from me?

  I think it’s better they do, but forcing them to?

  I send her a text. No matter how hurt I am, I can’t tell her the truth of why I’m there.

  Hey mama. Glad to hear about dad. I’m pulling all of my money out of my 401K to send you for his surgery.

  There’s nothing else to say that won’t make her suspicious or me more upset. I send it and begin pacing. Elijah isn’t capable of reasoning with people. He’s accustomed to being obeyed. It’s how he is and how he operates in his world. Why he was kind to me yesterday, I don’t know. Though like gift cards and owning cafes, I suspect he really doesn’t know better.

  But this text from my mother disturbs me much more deeply than I thought possible. It’s just a drop in the hat, apparently, given the text before from the mystery texter.

  It’s a reminder that I don’t know anything about Elijah. I know he’ll do anything to get what he wants, and I’m beginning to understand what exactly that means.

  It scares me, but not more than knowing that somehow, a man this dangerous managed to convince me overnight that there’s some
part of him worth salvaging. Is he playing me?

  I promise, Natalie. You have nothing to fear from me. Now, after this charade is over. Never.

  How did I believe him? Because he fucked me senseless and gazed at me with such genuine emotion? Did he fake it? Did he fake everything, just to get me to be the submissive woman he’s been molding me into?

  How can I make it three months with him, when I almost convinced myself he’s got potential after the first week, even knowing what he was like?

  I fell under his spell. I don’t know how, but I can’t do it again. Three months never seemed like such a long period of time.

  Two texts pop up, one from Alisha and the second from my mom.

  Hey – can’t meet you today. Will call later this week. This is from Alisha. It doesn’t sound like her at all. Neither of us ever start a message with hey.

  Did Elijah get to her, too?

  I scroll to my mother’s text.

  “Hi baby. Thanks for the offer. We don’t want your money,” I read in a whisper. “Take care of yourself, Natty.”

  She’s never turned down any of my offers before. If Alisha’s text worries me, this one crushes me. She doesn’t say it, but she doesn’t have to. She’s refusing me because she thinks I’m trying to buy her off, too, to give her money in the hopes she will look the other way about what I’m involved in.

  Elijah has tainted me and everything I do. My mother doesn’t see me as her daughter texting; she sees Elijah behind me, hovering over my shoulder. There’s nothing I can do now that he won’t be behind or suspected of being behind.

  What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

  Good intentions will not comfort you at night. They will not mend a broken heart or keep the media silent, once Elijah tires of you and starts whoring around again.

  Elijah’s aunt is more right than I knew. I’ll lose everything to help others. For the first time since making the deal, I truly begin to understand the mess I could be in.

  Was all of last night just an illusion? Is there some side to Elijah that’s somehow been mangled up and portrayed in the worst way possible? Or is he the worst person possible?

  “Ms. Hanover.” Jamil is at the door.

  He still doesn’t get that he’s supposed to knock then come in. At least he announces he’s there and stays by the door until I acknowledge him instead of sneaking up on me the way he did the first few days.

  “Yeah?” I ask, facing him.

  He’s got a box in his hands. He holds it out to me.

  I cross to him, my frustration growing when I see what it is.

  “Axis and Allies,” I mumble and accept it. There’s a note on it, too.

  We can play later. - EJ

  Elijah went out and bought a game he’s never heard of to give to me and offered to play, even though I have the impression that he’s never once considered spending his time playing a board game.

  He’s being so sweet. Last night was simply out of this world, the way he looked at me and touched me, as if I really mattered to him.

  Jamil turns to leave.

  “Thanks,” I say. “Hey, wait.”

  He pauses at the door.

  “Elijah’s aunt had some less than glowing things to say about him,” I start, uncertain how to ask him what I want to. “I know you don’t like commenting on this kind of stuff, but I’m really, really trying to understand him.”

  “It is not my place to discuss my employer’s family,” he replies politely.

  I nod, expecting as much, and study the artwork on the game in my hands.

  “That said, their relationship is complicated. His Highness is estranged from his family for a reason.”

  I look up. “A legit reason?”

  “I would say so.” His brown eyes show a flicker of some warm emotion. I almost think it’s pity.

  “He’s not easy to get along with. I’m starting to think there’s some truth to what they say,” I murmur. “How have you worked for him for so long, if he is the person everyone claims he is?”

  There’s a pause. Jamil is studying me. He looks at the board game in my hands, and for some reason, that makes him nod. I wonder if he’s got the same internal voices I do about Elijah, the ones arguing back and forth about what kind of person he is and how much danger I’m in.

  “There are two kinds of people in Elijah’s life, Ms. Hanover,” he says quietly. “Those that he allows to pass through, and those he chooses to keep. There are only a handful that have fallen into the latter category. Once you’re his, you are always his. There is nothing he will not do to keep you.”

  This isn’t sounding good. I’m not sure what exactly that means – and if Jamil is implying that I’m in the exclusive category of people Elijah possesses. It says nothing about his character except that if he chooses to keep me, I’m not escaping this disaster in three months.

  I can’t ask Jamil what he thinks about my chances of leaving are. I’m too afraid of the answer, too afraid I already know where I stand.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  Rather than feel comforted by anything Jamil has told me, I am even more confused.

  My phone vibrates, and I glance down to see Alisha’s response.

  I can’t meet you. Sorry. Job interview out of town.

  It’s a lie. I know Alisha better than I know anyone. She’d never take a job in any organization that conducted interviews. She’s too free-spirited, too good at hacking to take some two bit IT job answering phones for employees locked out of their computers.

  There are times when I can see how incredible it might be to be one of Elijah’s treasures, and there are moments like these, when I see how easily he’s able to flip from lover who’s trying to please me to control freak taking over the parts of my life I didn’t know he’d be after.

  I can’t save Tenley block and lose my family and friends. It’s not something I even thought possible. After all, while I want to help everyone there, I did this for my family.

  I don’t know what to do and have the sinking feeling it’s too late for me to do anything.

  More out of habit than will, I mechanically click the email button on my phone. A few messages pop up, mostly spam. The one from Alisha catches my attention. It was sent this morning, before she backed out of our meeting.

  I open it, and read the short email. It’s four words long – nothing more. No explanation, no context.

  Kallista King

  Dayton, Ohio.

  What does it mean? Who is Kallista?

  What I do know: Alisha found something. It must be connected to Elijah, or she wouldn’t have sent it with so little information, as if she was afraid of it being traced back to her.

  She may not be in a position to talk to me, but I’ve got to find a way to learn more. I need to know what Elijah is hiding. Something tells me, this secret will tell me everything I need to know.

  Serial Three: Crushed

  Chapter One: Natalie

  Two weeks later

  Car accidents: seven.

  Nijalan royalty: zero.

  I sit back from my research on Nijala. There’s a trend in how members of Elijah’s family die, and it’s painting a rather scary picture. His sister, brother, mother, grandmother, two uncles and an aunt all died in car accidents within about a ten-year time period.

  I mean, it’s possible, but seven in a row? If it were something like cancer, I’d be more understanding.

  Nibbling on my lower lip, I glance at the latest messages from the mystery texter.

  People close to EJ have a way of dying in car accidents. Don’t believe me? Google it, says one text. Others are different, like the one that reads, First he starts working late, then the business trips start up. He’s got a mistress or two – trust me, I know.

  Sometimes, it seems like they’re originating from a man and sometimes from a woman. I can’t quite figure out who it is. Why they continue messaging me is clear: someone wants me out of Elijah’s life.

  Fo
r a few days after the gala, I refused to read the messages, because for a night, I thought I’d seen the real Elijah. I was even willing to overlook the video of him with the blonde and hope there was a misunderstanding about my mom’s accusations.

  I gave him the benefit of the doubt, sensing there was some part of him worth saving.

  His response to the tender moments after the gala: he froze me out, withdrawing almost completely. A day after I received the message about him working late, Elijah began staying at his office for fourteen to sixteen hour days, returning home to fuck me and sleep. Our only real interaction for a week and a half has been sex.

  If there was a thaw, it’s gone, fallen into the widening chasm between Elijah and me.

  I’m sad and lonely in his world without him. I didn’t expect to miss talking to him.

  I didn’t expect to hurt so much, knowing I almost reached him and have been shut out again. It feels like any chance I had with the man I experienced amidst a crazy caramel and chocolate sexathon is now gone.

  It’s not a good sign.

  I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t want there to be more than a business arrangement between us.

  “I convinced the boss to let you wear leggings.”

  Blinking back tears, I turn to see Laura, my newly assigned stylist, emerging from my closet with clothing in hand.

  Her appearance renders her somewhat unapproachable, in my opinion. Too perfect, her makeup too well done, and her face a little frozen from her addiction to Botox injections.

  She’s also the best dresser I’ve ever seen outside of television and one of the nicest people I’ve met. I’ve found her gentle advice on what to wear easier to take than Elijah’s too-blunt observations. I’d like to think he’s trying to be helpful, but there’s no telling with that man.

  “They’re just so comfortable!” I say.

  “You know his view on you looking like a princess whenever you step out.”

  Ugh. It takes me longer to get ready for a trip to Starbucks than it does to walk there, order, return and sit and drink my coffee for an hour. It makes me hate going out more than dealing with the press.