Alpha Bait_BWWM Billionaire Romance Novel

by Jamila Jasper

  The Carmichael lawyers were legendary throughout the state. Their genius lawyer, the former district attorney, had served to handle the majority of their disputes and it was rare that the Carmichael family entered a dispute in which they lost. The case of my father's stolen technology being the first example of their ruthlessness when it came to the law.

  Donnie was screwed. My brother lay in an unconscious heap and Selena had died.

  As Ames and I illuminated more of what happened, the cops insisted on arresting Rich as well. Perfect. My secret boyfriend and my cousin were carted off by police cars and the rest of us were told to head down to the station immediately.

  None of us staring none of us dared to be defiant.

  I took it upon myself to call our lawyers and purposefully avoided calling my mother before I stepped into my town car for the long journey to the nearest precinct.

  It had been a long time since I had stepped into a police precinct. My youthful days had been filled with friends who racked up DUIs like they were poker chips. Since then, I had matured past the days of hanging out with young reckless drunks and the police precincts of New York City were some of the places I was desperate to avoid the most.

  Inside, I sat and waited for the family lawyers to show up. I knew they would likely arrive with my mother on their heels. What had happened in the park couldn't be kept from her for long.

  Cops brought us tea and water as we waited. I wondered what they would have done if my cousin had been a different black man and not a Holloway heir or local fame. Perhaps our treatment wouldn't have been so generous.

  This time, we were lucky and they only seemed interested in elucidating the truth of what had happened that night. I had to admit, I was painfully ignorant. Donnie and Jamal had been stationed at one of their usual hangouts. Why had Selena Carter come there? How had this all been exacerbated to the point where she lay dead and my cousin sat in prison with blood on his hands?

  My mother arrived after about 20 minutes with the lawyers hot on her tail. She had caught a break in traffic and managed to arrive early with fury written all over her face. She didn't speak to me and instead went straight to the officers and demanded to see Donnie and my brother. She might've heard part of the truth, but she was unaware that my brother lay within an inch of his life at Mount Sinai Hospital.

  When she found out, her expression remained cold.

  "I warned them not to fight."

  That was it. In my mother's world, her warnings and demands had always been law. We had always been made to reap the consequences of our actions and tonight was no different. She bore little sympathy for my brother or my cousin. Her rage was palpable and I knew that if they managed to both get out of this alive, there would be hell to pay within our household.

  On the opposite side of the police station Ames Carmichael sat in hushed conversation with his lawyer. I knew they would pursue this. I knew they would send my cousin to jail. I knew that Richard and I probably had no chance after this.

  We had tried to escape, but when it came down to it I was a Holloway and he was a Carmichael. Nothing could change that.

  Manslaughter

  RICH

  "We're fucked," Ames growled.

  My brother and the rest of the Carter clan insisted we ignore the banal legal details until after Selena's funeral. We stepped away from her private mausoleum in somber black tuxedos. My brother opened an umbrella over my head, preventing the drops from seeping into my wool suit.

  "We have Haverford on the case," I rebutted.

  "Jamal fired his family lawyers."

  My brother must have been sitting on this news for over a week.

  "Shit."

  I paused, "How did you find out?"

  "I have my sources."

  "Talk to Haverford. He can fight this," I insisted.

  "I don't think he can, Rich. They're talking manslaughter. Maybe even self-defense."

  "Manslaughter? He killed her in cold blood."

  "She instigated. If we're unlucky they may plead self-defense."

  "Self-defense?" I scoffed, refusing to acknowledge what I saw as unlikely once more.

  I'd been busy managing the company and directing my assistant in managing Selena's funeral. We'd had white lilies flown in from Spain, a hand-carved coffin and then I'd had the contractor make updates to the family mausoleum.

  If it weren't bad enough I had to bury her, Carmichael Inc. had to brace ourselves for the Holloway acquisition and how the deal would inevitably tank our sales in the next quarter. The dip would be unavoidable but we'd have to let go of a chunk of our staff. I didn't want that to happen.

  I'd worked twelve-hour shifts, each one punctuated by a clandestine evening with Indie, who refused to speak of family matters at all.

  We'd postponed vanishing from New York, but the tension only thickened the longer we remained.

  My problems weren't going anywhere. Ames had only confirmed what I feared. This fight would be long and drawn out. Selena's death and the pending legal decision were only the beginning. Hearing the news of Jamal's lawyer change caused me to consider for the first time that we might not win this war -- or this battle.

  One of the most brilliant financial minds on our team had just died and her replacement still had two semesters left at Harvard Business before he could come out to the city and work for us.

  Selena was dead, and Donnie might get away with it.

  Previously, my faith in the Carmichael lawyers had been unwavering. As Ames spoke to me somberly after the funeral, my concerns mounted.

  We needed action, not discussion.

  "We have to do something," I said again.

  My brother snorted in response.

  We entered the back of the town car and prepared to drive back into the city.

  "Can you get any information from Indie?" He asked.

  I glared at him.

  "No. And don't bring her name up again."

  My brother seemed incapable of understanding my reticence. Either that, or he simply refused to understand it. Indie had let him into our secret and I'd forbidden him to speak of it out loud.

  Indie refused to talk about her family, I told him. My brother seemed to be deciding whether or not to believe me. It didn't matter -- I wasn't lying.

  Since Selena had passed, tensions had grown worse and worse. I couldn't blame him for wanting me to press Indie. Selena's other brother, not Harvard Business but a Swiss banker, had flown in from Switzerland and his mind had been preoccupied with a, unlike anything I had ever seen.

  Keeping the peace was my second job.

  Back in New York, my brother came to my apartment and we discussed work on the pending legal case until the wee hours of the morning. I'd had enough Jim Beam to get me properly drunk and the next morning I had no idea how I would make it to the office on time, much less get any work done.

  Nevertheless, I persisted and I canceled my ride from my driver, opting to walk the thirty blocks to work instead. Duty called and a little fresh air works wonders on a hangover.

  I walked into the office, my lids and legs heavy with drink and marched to my office, slamming the door shut behind me. I breathe a sigh of relief that my secretary and my employees had been around to bother me. Even somewhat drunk, I was the first one in the building.

  I slipped into a deep state of focus. I manipulated charts, tested hypothesis and analyzed the markets until my eyes burned red. We'd have a chance that disaster might not be imminent. Working that out had sapped most of my energy. The muscles holding my eyes up burned and twitched.

  I reached into my top drawer for my emergency flask and took a swig. Far too early, but I needed something to get my blood pumping this early.

  When my secretary arrived, she brewed up a strong espresso for me, and that kept me going until the afternoon.

  A mid-afternoon phone call shattered my mid-morning mood boost.

  "He's getting off."

  "What do you mean?" I growled at my
brother.

  I already knew what my brother meant. I was simply in denial and unable to admit it to myself.

  What he meant was obvious. Donnie wouldn't see a moment of prison time for Selena's murder.

  "They settled?"

  Fury bubbled beneath the surface as I realize that our lawyers have screwed us.

  Ames attempted to calm me down.

  "They had no choice."

  I growled, "there's always a choice."

  "Not this time."

  "What the hell happened?"

  Ames paused. His silence sent jolts of discomfort spurting through my body.

  "Your fight with Jamal. They threatened to sue."

  I slammed my fist onto the desk. When my clenched fist landed, a booming noise echoed through the office. I knocked a picture frame off the edge of my desk, a picture frame that held the photograph of my brother, Selena and myself. We had taken the photo a decade early out on Martha's Vineyard.

  "I know you're upset," my brother muttered.

  "Haverford should have let them sue."

  "Rich, we can't afford to lose you right now."

  "So Selena will get no justice because the company needs me?"

  My voice trembled with rage. How could my brother defend their position?

  "It gets worse."

  I didn't think my blood boil any further. The news from Ames had sent me spiraling. I regretted letting Jamal live in the park. If Selena would get no justice from Ames, it would have been better for me to have meted it out on the spot.

  Jamal might have been tough. He might have been a bulldog in the courtroom. But when it came to hand-to-hand combat would have easily bested him. I'd had him in my grasp.

  "How does it get worse?"

  Again, a long pause indicative that the bad news my brother would bear to me would, in fact, be worse than what he'd already said.

  I could sense that he had no desire to tell me. But I pressed him.

  "They want you out of New York."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Exactly what I said."

  He continued reluctantly, "Jamal has filed a restraining order and the judge is granted his request."

  "You have to be kidding me."

  "It will go into effect in 72 hours. If you don't comply, there will be consequences."

  Frustrated, I replied, "how am I supposed to do business in New York if I can't even be in the city?"

  "We'll have to find a way."

  There was no way. We both knew that. We might try for a while but board members wouldn't accept and absent CEO.

  "We don't have enough time to make a plan. That bastard..." I grumbled.

  "I know."

  The move was political, purely. Jamal knew I wouldn't hurt him again with a legal case going on, and he had nothing to gain from me being out of the city in terms of his safety.

  He posed more of a threat to me than I did to him. Selena's actions aside, he was a business rival we took seriously, and a man neither of us relished meeting in a courtroom.

  My brother pressed me to seek assistance from Indie once again. I knew she wouldn't help me. What we were doing was already violating much of her loyalty to her family and I couldn't ask her to do any worse than she'd already done.

  But leave New York? Before Selena had died, that had seemed not only like a viable possibility but my best course of action.

  With Selena gone, the company needed me for at least another quarter.

  Ames couldn't do this alone. My responsibility to Carmichael, Inc. grew more pressing now that my brother relied on me -- and only me.

  "We don't have to listen to that restraining order. It's bullshit. If we have to pay a fine, we'll pay."

  "Do you really think the amount of money would be worth it?" My brother asked.

  It was my turn to pause. I ran my hands through my short dark hair, greasy and standing up on end. Another sigh escaped my lips. Visions of leaving Indie behind in New York flashed in my head. More than the company, I had no desire to leave her.

  "You need me here. The company needs me here. If Jamal wants to push me out of New York, that's the last thing I should do."

  My brother grew quiet again. More bad news?

  "Brother, if you don't mind me asking, I have a personal question."

  Worse, a question. His tone betrayed the content.

  "What kind of personal question," I replied heavily.

  My brother cleared his throat, "It's about Indie Holloway"

  "That's beyond personal."

  "I know you're still seeing her.”

  "I am," I confirmed.

  I had no desire to go deeper into this with my brother. He already knew more than enough as it was. I had been all right with exposing the truth to him thinking that I would be leaving New York City with Indie.

  I felt compelled not to leave the city and even more compelled not to bring up Indie again. Thinking about her only made making decisions more complicated.

  My brother replied adamantly, "I don't think it's worth the risk."

  It had been a long time since my brother had been so emphatically opposed to one of my decisions for the company. We both remained on the line in a sort of stunned silence until I gain the courage to speak.

  "Don't think what is worth the risk?"

  "You remaining. Indie will understand that you have to leave without her."

  "Leave without her?" I grumbled, "You seem to have it all planned out for me."

  "We do," my brother replied.

  Ah, there it was. The last bit of bad news.

  My brother replied, "we intend for you to leave tonight. You have no choice. The lawyer signed the documents and we need to get you out of here."

  I chuckled. There was no way he could've planned for this to happen so urgently. Didn't the lawyer say we had time?

  "What's the rush?"

  My brother had been busy since Selena's funeral. That had been clear.

  He replied, telling me that they had reason to suspect that Gail Holloway might act next.

  "If she has any reason to make good on her threat, she should start with her own family."

  "I know. But it's been agreed upon that Selena was the aggressor. Donnie acted in self-defense, which means that we were the ones who stepped out of the line and breached the agreement."

  I realized that this wasn't about the law after all. My brother was concerned, not for the legal ramifications I might face but the ones on my life. Gail Holloway's threat had been quite clear. If you go against her wishes and desires for peace, she would consider you a fair target.

  Ruining my social life in New York would be easy. She could expose secrets about me, events from my past or my present that I wished to keep private. I run a multi-billion-dollar company so those are bound to exist.

  I clenched my jaw thinking of the sort of dirt that Gail could come up with. There was no shortage of it. And to make it worse, it wasn't all of New York I cared about. It was Indie. What would she think if she knew about some of the raging parties my fraternity had thrown? What would she think about my teen summers partying in Brussels? And what would she think about all the women I had dated... All of them.

  Indie didn't know much about my past but when it came to dating there wasn't much to be proud of. I've been with a lot of women. She likely suspected that, but when she knew the extent of my deviant ways as a young man, perhaps she would see me in a different light.

  Some of these women were in New York royalty--people Indie would probably despise. I wasn't ready for her to know my past... Not like this. She deserved a conversation, not the tabloids.

  That wasn't the only dirty laundry I was afraid of airing. Gail could find out things about me that I might not have even remembered. I wasn't sure that she was above leaking false info either. Fake tabloid articles had as much potential to damage my current standing as anything else.

  "How far do you think she will go?"

  "From what I've heard, she's furious.
"

  I questioned my brother again on where he had received his information. Again, he refused to disclose.

  Armed with what Ames told me, I had a decision to make. He supplied with a reason to make one.

  "You'll be rewarded if you leave."

  I furrowed my brow and asked Ames to clarify. No reward could be worth it, but if I had no choice but to leave New York, a reward would at least sweeten the pot.

  "I had a feeling you wouldn't leave New York so easily. So I arranged for a few personal assets to inspire you with a bribe of sorts."

  "What kind of bribe?"

  My brother chuckled as if he had expected nothing more or nothing less for me. He had a point. In some ways I couldn't deny being my father's son.

  "Remember how you always wanted to go to that little village in Sicily?"

  "Of course I remember. I've been meaning to go back to Trapani for ages."

  My brother replied, "we've purchased a condo there for you."

  "A condo?"

  My brother chuckled, "it's nothing quaint believe me."

  "Go on."

  "Over 11,000 ft.²," he began, "there's a place to dock the yachts, it comes with a brand-new Audi, and it's fully staffed already. There are more than eight bedrooms and it's stocked with plenty of food and drink to satisfy your every need for the next six months."

  My turn to be silent again.

  My brother punctured my silence with the statement of his own, the finishing blow.

  "I need a decision now brother. Will you stay in New York or leave? Trust me when I say we can do this with you halfway across the world. But you need to go. It's not safe."

  "Are you certain?"

  My brother grunted in response.

  "That isn't an answer, Rich. If you aren't here, we'll have to make do. But I don't recommend we go diving into more trouble than we need."

  I found it hard to disagree with that. The petty family feud had its roots dug into us for years and that grip had only strengthened to these extremes once or twice in the past. Warfare snuck up on us after our father's deaths, which couldn't have been more ill-timed.

  "I'll go," I replied.

  I hoped that I wouldn't come to regret the decision. Leaving New York would mean shedding so many elements of my past that I was not yet ready to leave behind. I had to make a choice. So I made the one that would be best for the company, even if it wasn't what I wanted.