Unexpected Daddies

by Lively, R. S.

  “I love you, Darby White.”

  “I'm never going to get tired of hearing that.”

  “That's good,” I say. “Because I'll never get tired of saying it.”

  * * *

  “You have got to be kidding me,” she says.

  I shake my head. “Wish I was.”

  We're both sitting in fluffy blue robes at the bar in the living room area, eating takeout Chinese. She's on a stool and I'm standing behind the bar as we eat out of the cartons – and it suddenly occurs to me, what a cliché this is. But, after our session in the tub, we were both feeling pretty ravenous, so I'd ordered in from my favorite place, stereotypes be damned.

  I pick up a big bite of chow mein with my chopsticks and slide it into my mouth, savoring the flavor. As I chew, I slide the piece of paper over to her, so she can see it for herself. As she chews on some Mongolian Beef, Darby unfolds the sheet of paper and reads it to herself, shaking her head the entire time.

  “I cannot believe he actually found a judge who would sign off on this crap,” she says. “This can’t be freaking legal.”

  I shrug and finish chewing another bite of chow mein. “It pays to have friends in high places, I suppose,” I say. “They can make anything legal, if they want to.”

  “This is unreal,” she says softly. “That he's willing to go to these kinds of extremes, just to further his own political career.”

  “And keep a tight leash on you, let's not forget that charming little bit,” I say. “I think his deal is less about ruining me, and more about keeping control over you.”

  She chews thoughtfully on a bit of egg roll for a moment before turning to me. “What are you going to do?” she asks. “I mean, if he's opening investigations into your company –”

  “His investigations are completely without merit,” I say. “If he sends his hounds around the office, I'll happily let them look at anything they want. They're not gonna find shit. Like I told him, I run a clean shop. I have absolutely nothing to hide. So fuck ‘em. Let them come look, and waste their time. It's like I told him, at the end of the day, he's going to be left with nothing but his dick in his hand, and a lot of questions from his bosses.”

  “He's relentless, Carter,” she says. “He’s not going to stop.”

  I shrug. “Let him,” I say. “Like I also told him, I made the mistake of letting him get between us once. I'm refuse to let that happen again. Not for anything. I love you. You're mine. I'm yours. Fuck Mason. End of story.”

  She smiles and looks away as blooms of red rise in her cheeks. I know I need to address the other elephant in the room – the one we've been actively avoiding talking about. The girl.

  “Listen, the other thing I needed to talk to you about was the girl the other night,” I say.

  I see her body tense up, and she freezes with a piece of food halfway to her mouth. She recovers quickly, but I can see in her eyes just how wary and uncertain she still is about the other night. The presence of that woman rattled Darby down to her core, and she still hasn't fully recovered from it.

  “Mason was here that night,” I say. “He was the one who hired that girl to be here. Paid her to make that scene. This was his plan – since using Pops against me backfired on him, he wanted to make you think I was cheating on you and drive a wedge between us again.”

  She looks at me, the expression on her face inscrutable for a few seconds, but it’s quickly followed by a look of horror, mixed with indescribable rage. I can see on her face that she's trying to wrap her mind around it all, trying to come to grips with just how shady her brother really is, and the depths he'll sink to in order to control her.

  “Mason was hiding in the back room while all of that was going on up here,” I say. “Once you left, he came out and had a good laugh at my expense. I'm going to fucking bury him for that. He really picked the wrong person to fuck with this time.”

  I can see the conflict on Darby's face. She hates Mason for what he's done – what he's doing – but, he's still her brother. Her last remaining family member. I can understand why she'd be so leery of turning me loose on him. Despite the fact that he's a raging asshole, she doesn't want to see anything bad happen to him simply because they share DNA. I get that, I guess.

  But then, this isn't really her choice at this point. He fucked with me – again. He'd fucked with me, with Pops, and with my relationship with Darby. Repeatedly. The son of a bitch needs to learn his place. He needs to learn that our consequences have actions. That if we punch somebody in the mouth, you best expect to get punched back. Twice as hard. That’s one of the life lessons I learned in St. Aggie’s. I

  survived Hells Kitchen, and I'm ten times stronger than Mason will ever be because of it.

  “Carter, I – what are you planning on doing?”

  “Keeping my promise to him,” I say. “I told him if he came at me, I was going to tear his world down and set it on fire. He came at me. Now, it's up to me to hold up my end of the bargain. I'm a man of my word, Darby.”

  “You're not going to – hurt him are you?”

  I laugh and lean forward, kissing the tip of her nose. “Physically?” I ask. “No. I'm not going to lay a finger on him. I swear to God.”

  “Then what are you going to do?”

  “I'm going to ruin him. His reputation. His political ambitions,” I say. “The way he's tried to destroy mine.”

  A shadow of uncertainty, and that look of conflict, passes across her face once more. Darby is a kind soul, and a compassionate person. Those are some of her greatest strengths, but also one of her biggest weaknesses. Especially when it comes to Mason. Her kind heart is blinding her to the fact that her brother is a monster, who needs to be dealt with, once and for all.

  “Destroy his life?”

  “Darby, if I don't teach him a lesson and put his ass in check, he's going to keep thinking he can operate with impunity,” I say. “If I don't teach him a lesson, he's going to keep coming after me. Coming after you. Coming after us. I need to put a stop to this shit once and for all.”

  She nods. “I understand,” she says, her tone filled with a little more conviction than before. “What are you going to do?”

  I give her a grin. “It's already done,” I say. “Now, I just need to present him with what I have and my list of demands.”

  I lay out the plan Rupert and I had put together and executed. It had all gone without a hitch. I knew Mason wouldn't be able to resist. His ego alone guaranteed he wouldn't be able to. We'd laid a trap and he'd been so fucking blinded by his hatred of me that he'd walked straight into it. It's a beautiful fucking thing.

  When I’ve finished my story, Darby sits back, chewing on a bit of food, looking thoughtful. She shakes her head and looks sad. Though I can understand it a bit, I can't let sentiment get in the way. Mason has fucked us over too many times – and now it's time to retaliate.

  “It's going to be okay, Darby,” I say. “It's all going to work out.”

  She nods but can't quite wipe that expression of sadness and uncertainty off her face.

  “Yeah,” she says. “I know.”

  She looks up and gives me a weak smile. I come around the bar and pull her to me, holding her tight. I hold her for several long minutes, trying to give her strength to see this through. I want her to believe that this will all work out.

  I'm going to bring this to an end and get Mason fucking White out of our lives once and for all. His reign of terror is about to come crashing to an end.

  He won a few battles, sure, but I'm about to win the fucking war.

  Chapter Twenty

  Carter

  I walk through the office, feeling light and happy – which doesn't match the mood of the staff. Not at all. They cast wary, uncertain looks at me, all of the holiday sucked right out of them once again. Which can only mean one thing. Mason is already here. I glance at my watch and realize I'm twenty minutes late.

  Oops.

  “Ahab is waiting in the conferen
ce room for you,” says Alice, the office administrator. “He's been in there for half an hour and he's getting upset.”

  “Gee, that's too bad. Did you offer him coffee?” I ask. “Danishes?”

  She nods. “Of course, Mr. Bishop.”

  “Then he can shut the hell up,” I say and give her a wink. “Good job, Alice.”

  She smiles but scurries back to her desk. Alice – hell, everybody – looks like they're bracing for a nuclear blast. They're not wrong, they’re just confused about who has their finger on the button. I step to the front of the room and clap my hands.

  “Good morning, everybody,” I call out.

  All business stops, and an awkward, hushed silence descends over the room. All eyes turn to me and I can see the questions – and fear – in their eyes.

  “First off, I want to thank you all for your hard work over the past few weeks,” I say. “We have been having some extraordinary success and I appreciate all of your diligence. I know a lot of people say it – mostly because they feel like they have to – but I really do have the absolute best staff in the world.”

  Praising my crew normally gets some cheers and applause, and gets the room pumped up. This time, however, the silence is practically deafening. I give them my best attempt at a comforting smile.

  “I know you're all tense about the fact that Ahab is sitting in our conference room,” I say. “And we all know nothing good comes of Ahab sniffing around people's shops, am I right?”

  There are nods all around and quiet, murmured agreement.

  “Trust me, guys, we're not in any trouble. We haven't done anything wrong. Now, if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to give you all a wonderful Christmas present – I'm going to head down to the conference room and end that son of a bitch.”

  My words don't seem to reassure anyone. All they know is that when Mason starts poking around, people wind up in jail or lose their jobs. I understand the fear, but they don't know what I do. They don't know that I have Mason dead to rights.

  I give everybody a smile before walking briskly down the hallway to the conference room, a spring in my step. Through the glass wall, I see Mason sitting there, his face dark with anger and annoyance. When I step through the door, he pointedly looks at his watch and sighs.

  “Nice of you to finally stop by,” he says.

  “Least I could do,” I reply, smiling wide at him.

  “You asked me to be here half an hour ago.”

  I nod. “Yeah, but I never said I'd be here at the same time.”

  “You're playing with fire right now, Carter,” he says. “If I were you, I'd be very careful about where you step.”

  I drop down into the chair across the table from him and give him a long, level look. I can see his jaw clenching, and he's flexing his hands – clenching and unclenching them, as if he's tense and having trouble controlling his temper. Good. If he's this off balance already, my job will be that much easier.

  He's already teetering on the edge, and all I need to do is give him a wee little push. Which is something I'm more than happy to do.

  “What do you want, Carter?” he snaps. “Why did you call this meeting?”

  “Just to chat,” I say. “Now, that I've had some time to cool down, I wanted to talk.”

  “Just to talk?” he asks, incredulous. “What is there to talk about? You either wave the white flag and surrender, or I'm going to take you down. There will be no quarter given. I will fucking destroy you, Carter.”

  I give him a smirk. “I've been doing a lot of thinking lately,” I say. “I underestimated just how low you were willing to stoop. How big of a piece of shit you really are. Hiring a stripper to ambush me in my place like that? Seriously, what the fuck? I mean, strategically, it was a solid move. Made your sister really doubt me, and pissed her off to the nth degree. So, kudos for that, I guess. But, you're a huge piece of shit for doing that – not to me, but to her.”

  Mason shrugs. “Sometimes, there is unfortunate collateral damage,” he explains. “When you're fighting a war against somebody like you, sometimes you need to roll up your sleeves and get your hands dirty. Victory must be achieved at all cost.”

  “You seem to thrive down in the shit,” I say. “I don't think you’ve ever came out of it.”

  “I get results, don't I?” he says. “I always win, Carter. That's what I've been trying to tell you for a decade now. I always fucking win, and trash like you always loses. And that's because I'm willing to make the tough calls. I'm willing to do what needs to be done to achieve victory.”

  “What about Darby?” I ask. “What about what she wants? She and I are happy together. Why can't you just let it be? Doesn't her happiness factor into your bullshit at all?”

  He shrugs again. “Not really,” he says. “My career and my ambitions come first – they always have. I've never been ashamed of that. She knows where I stand.”

  “Mason is all about Mason, huh?”

  “My star is on the rise,” he says. “I can’t and won't have Darby running around with somebody like – well – you.”

  “And what is it about me that's so fucking objectionable, man?” I ask. “I run a clean shop, I pay my taxes, I give to charity. What the fuck is your problem with me?”

  A reptilian smirk touches his lips. “I don't like you. Never have.”

  “So, that's what this is all about? You're trying to destroy two lives, simply for the fact that you don't like me?” I say. “Fuck Darby's happiness because you don't like me, right?”

  “Well – yeah,” he says. “Pretty much. I mean, I want her to be happy, of course. She can settle for somebody else. Somebody I approve of.”

  “Wow,” I say. “You really are a piece of shit. You're an even bigger piece of shit than I gave you credit for.”

  “Speaking of shit,” he says. “I figure I'll do you a solid by giving you a heads up. One of your employees – excuse me – former employees, is a whistleblower. Has all kinds of good shit on you. Shit that if it gets out, is gonna land you in prison for a long, long time.”

  “That so?”

  He nods. “That's so.”

  “And what does this former employee supposedly have on me?”

  “Insider trading. Wire fraud. Bank fraud,” he says. “I could go on and on. Let's just say that if I really press, you will probably never see the world outside a prison ever again.”

  Mason holds up a thumb drive for me to see. “Turned this over to me this morning,” he says. “Haven't had a chance to look at it yet because you've kept me on ice here for a while, but I can't wait to open it up. I'm sure it’ll make for some fascinating reading.”

  “I'm sure it does,” I say, suppressing a grin.

  “Let this be a lesson to you,” he says. “Don't mistreat and manhandle your employees. It’ll bite you in the ass.”

  “Fascinating,” I say, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth.

  A shadow of uncertainty crosses Mason's face as he looks at me. Clearly, he'd expected me to fall to my knees, and beg for mercy or something. Yeah, not gonna happen. Even if he had me staring down the barrel of an actual gun, I wouldn't ask him for mercy. I wouldn't ask him for shit.

  “Anyway,” Mason says, clearing his throat and working back up to his former bravado. “I'm willing to overlook this and not pursue charges. But, you have to stop seeing Darby. Immediately. Second, you must close your firm. You also need to give up your licenses, and you will be barred from trading ever again. Period. These terms are non-negotiable.”

  “Wow. The death penalty,” I say and feign a shudder. “How scary.”

  Mason looks at me, his face etched with uncertainty. He obviously can't understand how I can be so flippant when he thinks he has me staring down the financial equivalent of the death penalty.

  He doesn't realize it yet, but I'm the one holding the trump card. He doesn't know it yet, but he will soon enough. And I can't wait to see his fucking face when I finally pull the trigger.

 
“You should take this seriously, Carter,” he says.

  “Thanks for the advice,” I say. “And the heads up.”

  “You're lucky I'm not going after your assets too,” he replies. “I'm sure you've already made more than enough money to last a lifetime. So, get out of the game and go enjoy it.”

  “How magnanimous of you.”

  “Yeah, I thought so too,” he says. “Do we have a deal?”

  I laugh in his face. “Fuck no,” I reply.

  His mouth falls open and he looks at me like I've just lost my mind. Mason gathers himself, clenches his jaw, and narrows his eyes at me, the hatred emanating from him in waves.

  “I'm giving you a chance to get out of this with your home and some money,” he says. “A chance to avoid prison and lose everything.”

  “And I'm telling you to shove it up your ass,” I look up toward where the hidden camera is located, and smile. “It's time.”

  Mason follows my gaze and then turns back to me. “What the hell is going on. Who are you talking to?”

  A moment later, Rupert and Darby step into the conference room – Rupert with a smug smile on his face and Darby with tears rolling down her cheeks. I hate that she had to see and hear that. Hate that I had to do that to her. But, she knew what might happen when she agreed to be here, and she still wanted to be here anyway.

  I guess she just needed to see and hear it herself for it to truly sink in.

  “What the fuck is this?” Mason asks, his voice filled with rage.

  “You're a son of a bitch, Mason,” Darby hisses.

  She lunges toward him, and although I'm tempted to let her rip his eyes out, I physically hold her back. I've never seen this kind of fury from Darby before.

  I hold her close for a moment, letting her cry into my chest. I stroke her hair and murmur a few words into her ear. Eventually, she nods and takes a seat next to me. She stares daggers at Mason and for the first time in my life, he looks scared. Rupert takes a seat next to me.

  “To answer your question, this,” I say, “is me fulfilling the promise I made to you. I told you I was going to set your life on fire. Ready?”