by Sage, May
"The bail ain't cheap, though, and they've frozen his personal assets."
Again, hardly surprising in a billion dollar fraud case, but it could be an issue.
While Peter Noble, heir to the Noble fortune, owner and CEO of Noble Industries, was dirty rich, his thirty-one year old son who'd only just made partner at Frank, Wright and Dawson's, was considerably less so.
"How much?"
"One point three."
Shit. Even remortgaging his apartment and taking every penny out of his trust fund, he was only worth about one million.
"I can spot you some, if..."
"No."
Borrowing from his friends wasn't his MO.
If the old man had to stay behind bars, it would have to be for as little time as humanly possible, though.
"There's worse."
This day, when his father had been publically arrested and accused of emblazing funds from his own clients, couldn't possibly get any worse, so he nodded his invitation to carry on.
"The board has hired Aiden Turner."
The very best corporate lawyer in the entire damn state, part of the course. His ninety-seven percent success rate was only rivalled by Chase’s own records but as per the company policy, Chase wasn't allowed to represent a relative.
Resigning was an option, but Chase, taken as he was going to be, would hardly be at leisure to contemplate the joys of self-employment for the foreseeable future. And he would need all the funds he could get to keep his father as comfortable as could be.
"Look, I know it's bad, but don't think of leaving us – not now. Wright's retiring next year and we all know who he's going to promote. Keep it together; you also have to think about your life."
Dan's words hit a brick wall. He heard and comprehended them, but they made no sense whatsoever to Chase Noble.
He would have agreed once, but he'd learnt early that the only damn thing that mattered in life was those you loved. There was a date tattooed on his flesh and in his heart, reminding him of that every single day.
"I have to represent him if they have Tuner."
"You don't," Dan told him with finality. "I know someone."
Someone wouldn't do. His father needed the best and the best was him.
"Someone with a better record than Turner or even you, for that matter."
That did get his attention.
"I'm listening."
"You know I worked at Klein when I was in LA? I got in same year as a woman; I should say girl, really. She was twenty-three, straight out of SLS. She made partner within three years."
Chase grimaced in degust. There had been a few women who'd got ahead in their current firm, too.
"Don't even think it. Jordan Klein tried it with her; she sued him and won. She's won every single one of her cases in over five years, Chase."
"So you want me to hire Klein?"
That seemed unlikely: whenever Dan referred to his time with his previous employer, it was with a great deal of resentment and contempt.
"No, I want you to hire Elaine Carver."
•
Elaine woke with a start, hyperventilating. It had been a while since she had dreamt of it. Of him.
She made her way down the silent house, to the kitchen at first, before heading towards her study.
The psychologist she'd started to see had suggested the diaries, and while she'd been dubious at first, they helped.
At the time, she'd patched up her wounds and let them close up without antiseptic. Considering the imminent complications she’d had to face at the time, she hadn’t had much choice in the matter, but something had silently festered through her mind for years and writing everything down in black and white was a good way to identify her issues.
And someday, if she dared presenting them to her, the records would give Cass the answers she already craved.
By the time the household came to life, she had written everything about the car. She was almost at the end.
Mornings had been a quiet affair since they’d come back from New York City a week ago, but that Saturday was going to be the exception.
Cass, bless her soul, had requested postponing the party; her aunt Beth had never missed one of her birthdays so far – not even when she’d had to come all the way back from the other side of the globe. Celebrating while she was lying still on a hospital bed didn’t seem right.
But Elaine had been adamant. She may not know her first cousin as much as she would have liked to, but of one thing she was absolutely certain: if Beth woke up and realised that Cass had mourned her on her tenth birthday instead of having a blast, she would be seriously pissed.
So Elaine had gone big. Flowers, balloons, caterers, popular singers, the whole she-bang. Every single friend of her daughter’s had been invited, as well as their parents, siblings, and the occasional pets.
While she'd organised most things, she'd left some to Pierce and, as per his usual practice, he had messed up half of his instructions hence why she'd run to buy flour and was now baking five dozen of Cassy's favourite muffins.
At eleven, just as the princess of the day arose, Elaine was still in batter up to her elbows when the front door ranged.
"Pierce! Can you get the door?" When he failed to answer, she used her secret weapon, calling him: "Dad!"
Ruthless Pierce Carver still turned into an oversize teddy bear whenever he found himself referred to as such. If he didn't answer, he was out of earshot.
Begrudgingly, she teared herself from her bowl and went to open the door.
The time stopped as she took in the visitors.
From the corner of her eye, she saw her friend and former colleague, Daniel Thorn, but her brain didn't register his presence, solely focused on the man standing two steps behind him.
A large frame, dark hair, and those amber eyes.
While Chase Noble had changed in a decade, it was for the better. His shoulders were larger, his gaze sharper. Yet, nothing fundamental about him had changed at all. He was still sending her heart into an unstoppable frenzy and setting alight the rest of her body without even trying.
She considered shutting him out, but thinking as quickly as her short circuited brain could, she stepped out and closed the door behind her. There were more important things than her discomfort at finding herself face to face with her former...
What was the word? He hadn't been a friend, certainly not a boyfriend, or a mere lover.
He looked at her with absolute, complete disbelief and a certain dose of horror. As if he'd seen a ghost.
To be entirely frank, he had.
"I'm going to be sick."
The feeling was entirely mutual.
"Fuck, Lexi. I thought you were dead."
And how she would have loved if he had carried on believing exactly that.
"So I gathered," she said coldly before turning to Daniel.
Daniel, she could talk to. Daniel, she could get.
"I wasn't expecting you. You're very welcome, of course, but I was just about to step out..."
Please let them believe this, please let them leave.
"I've called your number," he said, a confused expression as he looked to and from the two shell-shocked people around him, "but I couldn't get through so I thought I'd pop by and see if you were in."
She cursed herself for giving Daniel the number of her company phone.
"You caught me by a few seconds, but I need to go to..."
"Muuuum!"
Shit.
The door opened in front of her daughter.
She was wearing a new outfit, a black skater dress, and her blond curls had been brushed back in a ponytail.
Cassandra had always been the split image of her father, but with the one feature she'd taken from her mother out of her face, and wearing his colour, she may as well have had a sign reading, "Chase Noble's daughter."
"The cat is eating the cake mi..." she stopped on her track as her eyes fell on Chase.
An entire min
ute passed, and then she turned to Elaine.
"Is that him?" she asked, then somewhat unnecessarily clarifying: "Is that my father?"
There wasn't any other choice, so she nodded.
Cassandra turned back to Chase who, in the meantime, had turned white – just the same colour she'd been when she'd learnt that she had a child.
Only, in her case, the said child had been about one centimetre tall and safely tucked inside her uterus.
Cassie crossed the few steps separating from her dad and then, without notice, without so much as a look betraying her intention, kicked him right between his legs.
2005
He had it all planned and it was a damn good plan.
Lexi was turning eighteen in four months; he was going to ask her out that very day. Then, yada yada, sex, yada yada heart and flowers, yada yada, the ring.
Infallible.
Up until he got in the copy room one day, and found her on all fours.
"No, no, no," she was muttering, frantically gathering the hundreds of sheets in one messy pile.
If the length of the document was anything to go by, she was in possession of one of the original contracts his father loved to draft.
Peter Noble, owner of the company, was – among other things – an extremely paranoid old fart. That meant he never saved anything on his computer: he printed his documents and kept each copy under locks and keys.
The mess scattered on the floor was most probably the only version of the documents.
Chase smiled. It could be what he'd never had against the girl who didn't ever look his way: leverage.
2015
Numb.
He hadn't understood the sense of this particular word before this day.
Lexi – his Lexi – was alive. She'd had a child. His child. His daughter.
She was currently sitting in front of him, sipping a cup of tea.
The word had completely ceased to make sense. There was a possibility that he may have died overnight and gone to a place in between heaven and hell. A place where the only woman he'd ever loved was alive. A place where she'd robbed him of his child.
"Open the file, Chase," she ordered quietly.
She'd always been quiet, composed, indifferent.
That is, unless they had been making love.
He opened the folder in front of him, then closed it.
A few minutes ago, he'd thought he might possibly be about to throw up. Now, he knew he would.
She'd been completely beaten, every part of her face black and blue, the visible parts of her soft, slim body just as marred.
What had happened to her?
"I have other copies, you can keep this one."
He'd heard that tone before, he'd used it a fair amount of times.
She was threatening him.
With what?
"They suspected I may have been the victim of domestic abuse when I made it to the hospital. I haven't contradicted it. Should you even try to take her from me, I will destroy you without breaking a sweat."
It only hit him then: he had a child with this woman. A child he should have seen, held in his arms as a baby, protected every day for a damn decade.
She was one step ahead, obviously; showing him exactly what she would do if he considered asking for custody.
"You can't keep her..."
"I have and I will. You may not have inflicted all of those wounds to me, Chase, but don't expect me to forget you are responsible for one. You’re not getting to my daughter. She doesn’t deserve it."
2005
He threw up again, remembering how she'd ran her slick long fingers along his arms as she'd ridden him, frantically repeating what they both knew: he was hers.
Up until the day he was ready to accept the downfall, he was just another toy of Blenda Noble's.
Some vomit had gone on his face, his t-shirt, so he’d stripped down and gone to take a shower, hoping to cleanse away the memory of the disgusting excuse for a woman who ruled his life.
Then, the door opened and the light came in.
It was unbelievable how the mere presence of Lexi could do was the little white pills, the alcohol had failed to achieve: give him hope.
Then, she talked.
"These weren't from me."
I wanted to take this occasion to thank a few people.
It’s normally a very long line of boring acknowledgements that no reader actually cares about, but I swear I’ll make it quick!
First and foremost, I thank you for purchasing this book. You don’t know what it means to me. Seriously.
Secondly, a million of hearts and flowers to Sophie Purse, who keeps me relatively sane. Sorta.
Then, there is Guy Coutherut, the only father I’ve ever known, whose first question whenever I make it down to Marseilles is, “So, have you been writing?”
Well, obviously, I have. Thanks for believing in me. Please don’t read this book, it would be weird.
Vicky, Adriel, and Edward have also been brilliant, and I love the covers Kate and Roisin created for me.
Thanks a bunch, guys!