As a result, he had been arrested, the company’s assets were frozen and the merger was off. No one had a job anymore. The company was dead.
Shell shocked, Aiden left the station after hours of interrogation over his knowledge of any of the alleged ‘dealings’. He knew nothing. His specialty was security. He knew very little of exactly what his boss did for a living. But one thing seemed very clear, Chloe’s marriage, her exit from the company, and the jump in share prices–it all seemed too coincidental. It was as if she had a hand in it all somehow. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that the Chloe he thought he knew was just an act – a façade; meant to cover up what she was really doing. She was either helping her father or was taking off because she didn’t want to go down with him. Either way, in Aiden’s eyes, she’d failed as a human being. Decent people didn’t run. They didn’t take off, promising the world when they’re really planning on delivering a steaming pile of shit.
And that’s just what Aiden’s life had become since meeting Chloe Donovan–a steaming pile of shit.
Chapter Seventeen
PRESENT, 8 days before the job
Aiden
“I HAVE to admit, I miss seeing you in a suit every day,” Chloe says, as she walks beside me toward the bank. Her arm is looped through mine and if anyone looks at us, we seem just like any couple in the city.
“Why did we stop working together again? Oh, that’s right. You took off and I lost my job,” I reply, as we reach the bank’s electronic doors. It’s a bit of a shitty response, but I’m a bit on edge after spending hours getting into this disguise, trapped in the chair while she stood between my legs, her body brushing against me while my fingers itched to explore further beneath her clothes. It took every bit of control I had not to take her then and there. And I wanted to. My god, I wanted to drive myself into her so bad that my dick is still throbbing with my need. So I’m still struggling with my need to push her up against the wall and fuck her brains out as well as the need to get in that bank and see what we’re dealing with.
I take a deep breath, willing my body to behave as going through with the appointment wins out. Honestly, I’m beginning to want these documents as much as she does. I’ve spent years being angry, and learning that it was all set up just makes me want to do something to fix it. I can’t help but think that both Chloe’s life and mine would have been a hell of a lot different in a world with no Goldsmith’s around to fuck things up for us.
She turns to me and sighs, her swollen ruby lips pursing slightly. “And I was thinking we were getting past that.”
“What can I tell you, sugar, I’m a rollercoaster of emotions,” I say dryly, guiding her in front of me as we step through the doors. She shoots me an unimpressed look, and I can’t help but muse that we look more like a married couple now than we did a moment ago.
“Mrs Knowles,” a slight woman, with bleached blonde hair and more makeup than we’re wearing says, as soon as she sees Chloe in her disguise. It consists of a long auburn coloured wig and green contact lenses with accentuated cheekbones and somehow she managed to give herself a dimple in her chin without making it look weird. She’s wearing this short-sleeved black dress with a wide red belt pulling in her waist. On her feet are a set of lethal looking matching red heels that are really doing it for me. I fucking love watching her walk in those things and I take a moment to admire the shape of her legs and the swing of her hips as she joyfully greets the woman, who, I’m assuming, is the bank manager on duty.
Supposedly, we have an appointment with her to discuss transferring our fictitious wealth to them and she’s going to walk us through our options and show us the facility.
“And this must be your husband,” she states, turning to me and holding out her hand in greeting.
I take it, shaking her hand as I say, “How do you do.” The moment the words leave my mouth, I catch the amused look on Chloe’s face. For some reason, I suddenly have a British accent. God only knows where that came from.
We follow her into her office and take a seat while she talks about the benefits of banking with them. Chloe very slyly questions her about the safety of her jewellery collection on their premises and even has a story about another bank whose safety deposit boxes were recently raided to explain her worry.
“Yes, I did hear about that. Such an unfortunate thing to happen, and our own security protocols have been toughened as a result. I can assure you, there is no access to that room to anyone but staff. Would you like me to show you the process?”
We tell her yes and follow her through a security door and into the back rooms of the bank. There are several rooms to our left, and I can see the large door of the safe up ahead of us.
“Basically, we settle you into one of our private rooms.” She opens a sliding door and shows us inside a room with dark wooden walls, burgundy floors and a wooden bench in the centre. “Then our staff member will go into the safe and fetch your box which will be delivered to you through here.” She moves over to the wall and slides a panel to show a metal shelf inside. “It never leaves the safe and when you’re ready to leave, you lock your box, place it back inside and press a call button so we can come and let you out. It’s all very safe and very secure. No one can get to your box’s contents in our facility.
I look around the room, feeling as though this job just got a thousand times harder. The security in this place is immensely stricter than it was the last time I was in here. Before, you entered the safety deposit room with a staff member, got the box together and then you were moved into a viewing room. Now, it’s all different…
“Can I have a moment with my wife please?” I ask her.
“Of course. But this is a secure area, so this door will lock as soon as I close it. Just hit the call button beside it when you’re ready. I’ll return to escort you out.”
“Thank you,” I say, watching her as she steps outside and slides the door shut. The moment the locks engage, I slide my jacket off and peg it against the wall. “Fuck!” I yell, as I begin to pace the floor.
“What the hell are you doing? She might hear you!” Chloe hisses.
“She won’t fucking hear me because we’re inside a fucking vault! Don’t you get that? That giant fucking door down the end of the hall is where all the boxes and the money are, and I’m pretty fucking sure that it’s all behind individual fucking electronic doors.”
“So what are you saying? Are you saying this isn’t going to work?”
“We’d be better off kidnapping Audrey and making her get it for us.”
“That won’t work,” she says in a small voice.
“What do you mean it won’t work? It’s her fucking box!”
“I mean it won’t work! I already fucking tried it! I took her, scared the fuck out of her and she doesn’t have the key anymore. It’s a part of her stupid contingency plan.”
“And it’s why Goldsmith is keeping her alive and under close watch. He knows she has evidence but he can’t get to it either.”
“I don’t even know exactly which box it’s in.”
“Fucking what?” I spit.
“I told you, the plan is to rob the bank. Not just one security deposit box, Aiden.”
“How the fuck are you expecting to do that on your own? I can’t teach you how to do this, Chloe! How the fuck do you think you’re going to pull it off? How are you even going to carry all that cash? I have never met a woman more insane in my entire life.”
“Then don’t help me, Aiden. Get out now, and I’ll go my own way. I just thought you cared enough, if not for my father, then at least for all the Donovan employees Goldsmith put out of work. I thought you’d like to get some justice for them.”
“Those people aren’t my fucking problem. I’m here for the money and nothing more. Not you. Not them. Just me. I don’t give a fuck about your justice,” I lie, watching as her eyes widen from my words. “What you’re going to get is every cop in the country chasing after you. And you’r
e doing this for what? So you can clear the name of a man who is as good as dead?”
“I thought you didn’t even want the money anymore.”
“I haven’t decided what I want from this yet. But a prison sentence isn’t one of the choices. There is no way you can pull this off without getting caught.”
“I don’t care. Goldsmith needs to be outed for the scum that he is.”
“Is your life worth this?”
“Look at me, Aiden. What life do I have? The Goldsmiths took everything from me. They took my family, my livelihood–my love…”
I still at her last words as they hit me, full force in my chest, causing my ears to buzz and my guts to hurt. “Your love? What does that mean?”
“It means that they are why I left you, Aiden. They said that if I didn’t leave you then they’d ruin you, they’d ruin your family and they’d ruin my father. I thought I was protecting everyone.”
I nod, trying to stay calm as the revelation as to why she left without a word finally comes out. My mind races, piecing things together as I draw conclusions about what really happened. “But they stabbed you in the back and took everything anyway.”
She nods. “I was the key to the kingdom. The marriage got them through the door and everything snowballed from there.”
“Fucking hell.” I thought I hated the Goldsmiths before, but I hate them even more in this moment.
“So you see? I have to do this. I can’t let them live in their castle and sit on their throne while my father is at death’s door. My mother is a nervous wreck and I’m… I’m nothing. After all that hard work, I’m nothing.”
I step toward her, about to reach up to touch her face before I pause, not wanting to spoil the makeup. “Let’s get out of here. Get out of these faces and then we can talk, ok?”
She nods, blinking rapidly to stop herself from crying as I walk over and hit the call button by the door.
“We’re going to work this out, Chloe. Some way or another–we’ll work this out.”
Chapter Eighteen
Chloe
THANKFULLY, THE makeup doesn’t take as long to take off as it did to put on, and I exit Aiden’s bathroom dressed once again in my jeans and my regular face. I can see Aiden at the kitchen sink, trying to get his face cleaned up as well, and he obviously hears me approach because he says, “I don’t know how you women manage to get this shit off everyday.”
“Well, we don’t usually run around with prosthetic facial features on most days,” I comment, reaching out and taking the dishcloth from his hands, running it under the warm water before I reach up and wipe gently at his skin. He’s removed most of it, but there’s still a little around the edges of his face.
He watches me carefully as I remove the last of it. “There,” I whisper when I’m done. I place the cloth by the sink and reach up, brushing my fingers through his dark hair.
He catches my hand in his and holds onto it. “Why did you marry that guy?” he asks in a gruff whisper.
“I told you. I thought I was protecting you.”
“I didn’t need protecting, sugar. I just needed you.”
I nod, dropping my eyes from his as I fight my emotions. But he catches my chin and makes me look back up at him, his hand releasing mine as he slides both hands to cup either side of my face. Emotions flow through me, and I’m afraid to speak, afraid to utter a sound that could damage this moment. I want him. I want him to take me in his arms and make me feel new again. Make me feel like there’s more to this world than lies and deceit. I want him to show me joy and light. I want him to make me love.
“I just. needed. you,” he repeats, his mouth closing over mine.
I close my eyes tightly as my arms move to wrap around his neck, and I press myself against him, moving my mouth with his as my tears fall anyway. I didn’t want to cry but the way he’s kissing me is so soft and gentle that it breaks my heart all over again as I’m faced with everything we lost–everything we could have had.
His hands move down to cup my buttocks and he pulls me against him, squeezing my curves, his fingers almost painful in my flesh. The kiss becomes more voracious as his tongue slides into my mouth, pushing and sliding against mine. I let out a whimper as my body comes alive under his roaming hands as they slide under my top, pushing up the fabric as we begin to walk in a tangle of limbs toward the first available surface.
Frantically, we kiss, pausing only to separate long enough to pull each other’s shirts over our heads, throwing them away like unwanted rags. The heat of his skin against mine causes the hunger inside me to grow to epic proportions, and I pull at the button on his pants, hearing it hit the floor and bounce away as I drag down his zipper and eagerly slide my hand in, moaning when I hit his smooth, hard erection.
He groans into my mouth as my hand grips around his girth, gliding up and down his shaft. Still moving together, he shucks of his pants and boxers, stepping out of them so he’s gloriously naked and pressed up against me. I continue my movement over his cock, sliding my finger over his tip, feeling the first drops of his arousal as my insides throb with the want of him.
Finally, we hit up against the edge of the table and his hands move fast, unsnapping my bra and throwing it onto the ground before he hoists me up by my arse, dragging my legs either side of him as his kisses deepen and his hands move up to grip at my breasts.
He’s rough with me–kneading my breasts and squeezing my nipples into hard peaks as I release his cock and drag my fingertips over his skin, touching him everywhere that I can.
“Fuck me, Aiden. Fuck me hard,” I beg, my fingers digging into his arse as he presses his hard cock against my stomach. I look down at his engorged length, my mouth salivating at the sight of it. I want him inside me. And I want it now.
He pulls back slightly, dragging his teeth over my bottom lip before he releases me. Then he reaches between us and makes quick work of my jeans and panties, pulling them down my legs and dropping them on the floor.
He steps back, treating me to the beauty of his naked body, his cock standing tall and proud, the end glistening with need. “Open,” he commands. “I want to look at you.”
With my eyes on his, I do as he asks, parting my thighs and exposing my core, slowly. I lay back on the table, the cool air of the room, washing over my heated flesh and causing it to bump. My nipples harden even further and my clit throbs as he lets out a low rumble, his hand stroking at his cock as he gazes upon my glistening wetness.
He moves toward me again, placing the length of his cock against my entrance so his tip slides over my clit, teasing me, driving me to distraction. Then he leans over me, dipping his head to take my nipple in his mouth and sucking back hard. I gasp.
“You like that?” he growls, and I nod, arching my back and rocking my hips, needing him to do more. My senses were set to burst and I needed him to take me over the edge.
Gripping his cock, he moves it up and down, between my fold, teasing my entrance but not giving me the pleasure of his length inside me. Then suddenly, he pauses and lifts his head, moving so he holds himself above me, his hands either side of me as he searches my face with a pained expression in his eyes. “I need you to tell me something,” he whispers.
“Anything.”
“Tell me you didn’t want him. Tell me you never felt anything like this with him.”
I reach up and slide my hands over his face, smoothing out his hard expression. “He didn’t want me. And I didn’t want him.”
The relief washes over his face and he turns his head and kisses my hand as he shifts his hips and with one swift movement, his cock slides back through my folds and he drives his tip into my entrance, filling me swiftly with his large hard cock.
I cry out, my body uncoiling immediately as he fills me up and hits his pace. Long hard strokes as I call out and he grunts, slamming in and drawing out over and over again. The heat swirls within my body, and I grip at his forearms, my nails digging into his skin as he continues to driv
e into me. My climax builds then spills over, exploding behind my eyes, causing me to moan long and low as my eyes roll back in my head. He shudders, spilling himself inside me, moaning at his own release and I can feel him pulsing. Our release intense but over far too quickly.
“Holy fuck,” he groans, leaning down to take my mouth in his. I’m shaking and I can feel him shaking too. I turn my head and let out a sob. “Oh shit. Are you ok? Did I hurt you?”
I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. “No. You didn’t hurt me. I just missed you is all. I just missed you.”
He scoops me up in his arms, lifting me off the table so I’m wrapped around him with him still inside me. “I missed you too, sugar.”
And with that, he carries me into the bedroom where he proceeds to show me exactly how much he missed me until the day turns into night and the night to day. When we finally fall asleep, I’m blissfully sore and my last thought is a hope that I’m not dreaming and that this moment of happiness is real.
Chapter Nineteen
EARLY AUGUST, three years ago
“THIS IS your room,” Sebastian stated, as he reached inside the door and pressed on the light. A large chandelier glowed to life from within an ornate moulded centrepiece that dominated the tall ceiling.
Below it, a large, four-poster bed, decorated with a dusty pink silk organza and matching silk jacquard bedding sat surrounded by other matching pieces of furniture–a day lounge, a desk, an entertainment centre. It was as if that room was where she was to stay, sequestered away from the rest of the world.
“We won’t be sharing one?” Chloe asked, finding it strange that the first thing he did as husband and wife in their new home was to show her where she belonged.
He smiled. It was just a press of his lips but it was there, and it was the first bit of emotion he’d shown all day. He obviously wanted this marriage as much as she did. “My room is at the other end of the house.”
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