Wicked Surrender (Hollis Brothers Book 3)

by Linda Verji

  His voice firm and cold, he asked, “What does Enzo have to do with anything?”

  Edya hesitated for a moment, before confessing, “I hired him to seduce London.”

  Zeke stared at her aghast for a long moment before exploding. “You are unbelievable!”

  “I had to protect us,” Edya bit out. “You know the vision we have for Landa-Hollis Investments - the legacy we’re building. You can’t afford to get side-tracked, Zeke.”

  She had to be really desperate if she was calling him Zeke.

  “Think of the family. Of the future generations,” she said softly. “This thing with London was going nowhere. It had to end sooner or later. I just ended it for you sooner than you planned.”

  “Well, that wasn’t your job.”

  “Yes, it was. I’m your mother,” she said. He opened his mouth to protest but before he could, she cut in with, “Besides, I was very generous with that woman. I gave her exactly what she’s always wanted – and certainly more than you would have given her when you left her. Vicker’s offer is very legitimate. As promised, he’ll help them produce their first album then fund their tour. By the time, he’s done with her she’s going to be a household name. Do you really want to ruin all that just so you can keep sleeping with her?”

  The question stumped Zeke. As deplorable as his mother’s actions were the fact was that she’d given London her dream. Edya was also right that eventually he would’ve had to end it. Perhaps this was the best way for it to end.

  “Let her go, Zeke,” Edya encouraged. “Let her have this and let her go.”

  DESPITE HER ATTEMPTS to push it to the back of her mind, the conversation with Shakira played on London’s mind incessantly. With it came questions London didn’t know the answers to. Questions like; was Shakira right? Was she shortchanging both herself and Zeke by not coming clean? Was it possible that he felt something - anything for her? Was the possibility enough to push her to confess her feelings? London wasn’t sure.

  She was a confused mess as she prepared to perform later the same day. Enzo turned up for the show but was uncharacteristically quiet. Hopefully, that meant that he was embarrassed about how stupid he’d made himself look with all his shenanigans. Not that she cared, she was done with his dramatic ass. Besides, that she had more important things - more important people to think about. People like Zeke.

  What if she told him she was in love with him and he rejected her? Well, at least she’d know then and she could go on tour without wondering, she consoled herself as she took the elevator up to Zeke’s apartment after their show. What if she told him she was in love with him and he said he loved her too? What then? Was the chance of having a relationship with him worth jeopardizing her dream for?

  No, she didn’t think it was.

  She’d dreamt for too long, worked too hard to be a recording artist. She couldn’t – wouldn’t risk her dream for something she wasn’t even sure about. There. It was settled. No confessing her feelings to Zeke.

  The elevator doors opened up to reveal his living-room. The moment she saw him and the way he smiled at her entrance, all her carefully considered resolutions disappeared and she blurted out, “I’m in love with you.”

  CHAPTER 22

  I’m in love with you.

  Her words sent shock waves rippling through Zeke. He’d steeled himself to break up with her tonight - not receive a confession of love, and it sent him spinning into an immediate cornucopia of emotions. First to strike was shock. London was in love with him? Then excitement swooped in. London was in love with him. Thinking of such a passionate, beautiful and loyal woman being in love with someone as unexciting as him, made his heart leap with happiness. Next to strike was misery because it was the worst possible thing that could’ve happened. She wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him.

  “I’m in love with you, Zeke,” London repeated those words he wanted to hear yet didn’t want to hear. Her eyes glinting with obvious nervousness, she pleaded, “Say something.”

  “I-I-” He swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I know I caught you off-guard.” She kicked off her heels then set her bag on the floor next to the shoes. Crossing the room to sit on the arm of the sofa where he was, she added, “But I thought I needed to say it. I wanted to know how you feel before I decide if I’m taking Vicker’s offer.”

  Basically, she was saying that whatever he said next would determine whether she left him for fifty weeks or not. Zeke had been in a lot of hairy situations before, been backed into a corner where his next decision determined whether it was sink or swim for Landa-Hollis Investments. Yet he’d never felt as pressured as he did right now or as nervous.

  “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with me,” he said slowly.

  “I know.” She slid down to fully sit on the sofa. “But it’s not like I planned to do it.”

  “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with me,” he repeated. This time she kept silent, watching him even as anxiety and tension pulsed strongly between them. Running his hand over his hair, he asked, “London, what am I supposed to do with this?”

  “I don’t know.” Lightly chewing on the tip of her nail, she suggested, “Tell me how you feel?”

  “I can’t.” He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Setting the glasses on the coffee table he said, “We both knew when we got into this that falling in love wasn’t - would never be an option.”

  Even as he said the words, his heart sunk because he knew he was breaking her heart piece by piece. He hated to do it, but what was he supposed to do?

  “I know.” London’s gaze slipped downwards to her hands now on her lap. “But things change.”

  “Not for me.” He scooted closer to her and pressed her chin up so she was looking at him. Her eyes were already glistening as if she was about to cry. His heart ached as he said softly, “I’m still in the same position I was when we started.” He took hold of her hand and intertwined their fingers. “Baby, I wish I could offer you everything you want - everything you deserve but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  Silence descended between them as did a single tear down her cheek. A lump building in his throat, he reached over to brush the tear away but she jerked her head backwards so he couldn’t touch her face. Swiping a hand over her face, she said, “I guess that answers my question then.” She chuckled but there was no amusement in the almost painful sound. “You don’t feel the same way about me.”

  “That’s not what I said.” He squeezed her fingers.

  She snatched her hand from his. “Then what are you saying.”

  “That I can’t - that we can’t-” He tripped over his words. Pausing to gather his thoughts, he tried to explain better, “It doesn’t matter whether I have feelings for you or not.”

  And he did have feelings - powerful feelings.

  He didn’t know whether it was love or not, but he knew that a day without her was enough to put him in a bad mood. He knew that he wanted her close to him every single day. He wanted to wake up every morning to her smile, and go to sleep every night with her telling him that she loved him. But that life wasn’t for him. His future had already been charted by his lineage and he couldn’t change it. He continued, “You and I can’t be more than what we are now.”

  “Which is what?” Her gaze hardened. “Fuck-buddies.”

  “London, don’t do this.” He tried to reach for her hand again but she yanked her arm backwards to evade him. “You know we’re more than - than that.”

  “No, we’re not.” This time she stood up and backed away from the couch. “I’m good enough to be a booty-call but not good enough to love.”

  “London, don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” She stared at him, anger glinting in the depths of her brown eyes. “Say what we both know? Why can’t you say it?”

  “Because that’s not how I feel.” He rose to his feet, even as anger began to build in him too overcrowding his misery. Why was she doing th
is? He’d told her, hadn’t he? She’d known as well as he did when they started that he couldn’t offer her more. Heck, she was the one who’d insisted that they sleep together. So why was she putting him in this position? Making him apologize when he had nothing to be sorry for?

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Then how do you feel?”

  “I told you,” he bit out as he took a step towards her. “It doesn’t matter.”

  She immediately backed away from him. “No. You won’t say how you feel because you’re a coward.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” he growled.

  “It’s your M.O. Too scared to tell me how you really feel about me to my face. You only say it behind my back.” Her lip lifted in a sneer as she cut into him with her words. “This is my fault. I knew the kind of man you were a long time ago. I guess I was just too stupid to keep it in mind before I got into bed with your stupid, bourgie ass.”

  “Are you kidding me?” His voice lowered to freezing point. “We’re back to discuss what happened two years ago?”

  “No, we’re not. Because I’m leaving.” She turned and heading towards the elevator.

  “Can you just sit down a minute so we can talk about this?” He started towards her.

  “No. And don’t even come close to me.” She shot him a glare that stopped him in his tracks as she slipped on her shoes. “You know what? I hope you find a woman you think is good enough for you. Have your great little life with your high-society, virginal wife and your perfect ivy-league-school kids. Meanwhile I’ll find myself another man - a man who deserves a good woman like me. Because I am a good woman.”

  She grabbed her purse from the floor and slung it over her shoulders. “I may not have a college degree or parents who own their own country. I may have done some shit that your perfect, little crowd doesn’t approve of - but I’m a good person. I’m generous, I’m loyal and I would give anything for the people I love. I’m a ride or die chick. You would’ve been lucky to have me, Zeke Landa-Hollis.”

  Her words sunk into him, each of them a spear piercing his heart with their truth and leaving him speechless. He wanted to tell her that she was everything she’d described of herself and more, that she was everything he wanted. But what good would that do? So he kept silent and stared at her.

  She headed towards the elevator, started to press the down button but realized there was none. She snapped towards him. “Could you please open this thing?”

  He didn’t want to.

  He didn’t want her to leave.

  He didn’t want to lose her.

  He wanted to ask her to stay so they could talk. But there was nothing more to say was there? He grabbed his keycard from the coffee table and crossed the room. She skittered backwards when he neared her as if she didn’t even want him to touch her, and another part of his heart broke. A thick lump in his throat, he swiped his keycard through the slot, the doors immediately opened.

  Sucking in a deep breath, he turned to her, “London, I’m really sor-”

  “Screw you.” She swept past him into the elevator and pressed hard several times on the ‘Close Door’ button. “Screw. You.”

  Those last words rang between them as the elevator doors started to close. The last thing he saw was her glaring with so much hatred in her eyes that it almost felt as if it was burning him up. His lungs tight, Zeke stared at the now closed elevator doors wishing they’d open so he could say everything he wanted – no, needed to say to her.

  But he knew that even if those doors opened and she walked out, he’d still do the same thing he’d just done. He’d send her away. His heart squeezed painfully.

  CHAPTER 23

  I’m an idiot, London thought as she scrubbed the floor harder. It was stupid, stupid, stupid for her to confess her feelings to Zeke the previous day. Though her arms and knees ached like hell, she continued to sweep the brush over the linoleum in hard strokes. Why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut? Why had she thought that the whole scene would go differently? Because she was stupid – that’s why. A tear slipped down her cheek to land on the soapy floor. She immediately scrubbed it out.

  It could’ve been so uncomplicated. All she had to do was keep her feelings in check, maybe sleep with him one last time before telling him that she’d decided to take Vicker’s offer. But Nooo, she had to go Spanish Soap Opera star and confess all her stupid feelings. Stupid!

  Then when he’d rejected her what had she done? Yes, please let’s recap how Little Miss London Pistol de Dramatica had lashed out like a stage-five clinger. And that embarrassing speech she’d made! Lord, she was an idiot. No wonder Zeke didn’t want her. She was crazy. Her eyes clouded with more tears even as she scoured the floor more vigorously.

  The kitchen door squeaked behind her. Quickly, she swiped her arm over her eyes to get rid of the tears before she whipped her head towards the door. But even though the door was half-open, there was no one there. It was probably one of her housemates again. They’d been doing that sneak-and-watch her thing since morning when she’d snapped at their nosy asses for asking her why she was cleaning her room. Was she sick? they’d asked. Yeah, she was sick of them, of Zeke, of everyone. Now, Amani and Farah were giving her a wide berth - something she appreciated because now she could finish cleaning without people asking her stupid questions.

  She shouldn’t have snapped at him for rejecting her. After all, he’d been very clear from the onset that they weren’t going anywhere, and she was the one who’d seduced him. Oh, screw that! She dropped her brush into the bucket sending splashes of water onto the floor. And screw him! Zeke deserved every single nasty word she’d shot him. So she’d developed feelings for him. Big deal! What was so abnormal about that? People did it all the time. In fact he was the abnormal one for not having any feelings. What kind of man slept with a woman. A sociopath that’s who. A stuck-up sociopath.

  She picked the brush again and started scrubbing.

  You know what? Now that she thought about it, it was a good thing that he’d rejected her. What kind of woman wanted to be with a sociopath anyway?

  You, that’s who, her subconscious taunted even as another tear slid down her tears. Yeah, she wanted him. So badly every minute she thought of him her heart ached. She wanted him to knock on the door and tell her that last night had been a mistake, that he wanted her back, that he loved her too.

  Knock. Knock. Knock. London’s hand flew to her chest as she turned to face the kitchen door. Good God, had she dreamt him into knocking. Knock. Knock. Knock. The tentative knock sounded again. Quickly scrambling to her feet, she called out, “Yes?”

  The door opened and someone emerged. Not Zeke.

  It was Shakira. A tentative smile on her face she greeted, “Hey, honey.”

  “Shakira?” London swiped a hand over her tear-stained cheek. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here too.” Misha appeared behind Shakira. Her eyes swept across the kitchen taking in the sparkling dishes, the pristine windows, the soapy floor, and she shook her head. “Oh, this is bad.”

  “Your housemates called us.” Shakira’s worried gaze swept through the room too before coming back to London. “They think you’ve gone crazy and might kill them in their sleep.”

  “Why would they think that?”

  “You’re cleaning,” Misha said as she took a step into the kitchen, her expression just as worried as Shakira’s. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” London shrugged. “Is it so wrong for me to be cleaning?”

  “No. No. It’s not.” Shakira crossed the room to stop beside London. She took the brush from London’s hand then tugged her by the wrist towards the kitchen island. “But let’s talk first. Come and sit down.”

  London reluctantly allowed her friend to pull her to the kitchen island. Settling on the barstool opposite Misha, she complained, “Every day they complain that I don’t clean enough- when I do they dial nine-one-one.” She kissed her teeth. “See if I cl
ean this place again!”

  “Okay, tell us what’s really wrong.” Shakira wrapped an arm around her waist.

  “I said nothing was wrong?” London sniffed.

  Her friends traded looks then Misha asked slowly, “Does this have anything to do with Zeke?”

  London immediately whipped angry eyes towards Shakira. “You told her?”

  “She didn’t tell me anything,” Misha cut in before Shakira could answer. “I’m a P.I., honey. Snooping is my business. I figured it out during the barbecue.”

  London swiped both hands over her face to wipe off the last remnants of her tears. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Misha shrugged. “I figured you’d tell me when you wanted me to know.”

  “What happened between you two?” Shakira asked.

  “I told him.” She looked down her hands on the countertop. “I told him I loved him like you told me to, and he said he didn’t feel the same way.”

  “What?” Misha exclaimed drawing London’s gaze to her. There was genuine surprise in her eyes.

  “Why are you so surprised?” London asked miserably. “It’s not like a guy like him could fall for a girl like me.”

  “It’s just-” Misha paused briefly before saying, “I saw the way he looked at you at the barbecue and I could’ve sworn there was something there. And after the barbecue, Danny asked me what was going on between you and Zeke. Like he’d noticed too.”

  “Nathan asked me too,” Shakira agreed. “Are you sure Zeke said he had no feelings for you?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” London insisted. Okay, so he’d said that there was no point to him having feelings, but as far as she was concerned it was the same thing. Forcing a smile to her face, she said, “But it’s okay. At least now I can go on tour knowing where he and I stand. Did I tell you guys that we start recording on Monday?”