by Emma Renshaw
“Today,” she said nodding once, determination settling over her face. Her hand lies against her flat belly. “I want to solve this as quickly as possible.”
“Are her accounts with the money there, too?” I ask Kiernan.
He sighs, rubbing his hands through his hair. “No. Every account in her name is offshore.”
“Offshore?” she asks. “I thought only tax evaders used offshore accounts.”
Kiernan rolls his lips between his teeth, not wanting to point out the fact that the money is there to avoid taxes and suspicion.
“Where?” I ask, moving past the potentially awkward situation. When Harper is ready to emotionally deal with her dad, we can talk about this, too.
“There are several accounts. Two from your parents. Three from Santiago. They’re split up all over the place. Bahamas, Switzerland, Grand Cayman, and Bermuda.”
“What?” Harper asks shocked. “How can there be that many? And why in so many places?”
“It’s another level of protection to split up the cash in different locations.”
“How much?” I ask. This must be where the money from her parents and Santiago is located. They wouldn’t have left her with so little, but if none of this had happened, she never would have known. That doesn’t seem right.
Kiernan takes a deep breath. “All together it’s three-fifty.”
“Thousand?” Harper asks shocked. “Why so much?”
Annoyance grates against my nerves—she shouldn’t think that’s a lot. Santiago left me five million, and for what? Maybe I was supposed to come back to Harper sooner. Maybe it actually belonged to Harper. The lawyer told me Santiago had just updated his will before and had intended to put a letter to me, but he died before giving the letter to the lawyer. Fuck. I always thought the letter would say he was proud I did something for myself after he paid for my school.
What if I stole Harper’s money? Three hundred fifty thousand? That’s it? I know it’s a lot of money, more than some see in a lifetime, but both her parents and Santiago had the means to give her more. Harper deserves more, she deserves every cent they had. What the hell were they doing? Why would Rafael be so concerned about that amount? That’s not even a drop in the bucket for the head of a cartel.
I will sign over the millions to my name. Today. It doesn’t matter that it would be hers anyway once she becomes my wife. It’s hers. Fuck, it must belong to her.
“No,” Kiernan says, drawing out the word. “Three hundred fifty million.”
“Oh,” Harper says, her jaw hanging open, staring at the piece of paper Kiernan is trying to hand her.
“Yeah,” I say sarcastically. “That makes sense why Rafael’s after it.”
“He can have it,” Harper says, still staring blankly at the paper she refuses to take. “I don’t want it.”
I grab the paper from Kiernan’s hand, looking at all the account numbers with the amounts in each.
“You’re not giving him this money, Harper,” I order.
“Why the hell not?” she asks, finally done with staring blankly. There’s an inferno behind her eyes, she isn’t ready to back down. “Don’t you dare try to tell me what to do with this. I don’t want it. He can have every last penny.”
“No,” I growl. “Your family left this for you.”
“It’s dirty money. My father and uncle were dirty. I don’t want to touch it. Rafael can have it, then he’ll leave us alone and let us have peace.”
Kiernan breaks in, stepping into our argument. “I don’t think he’d leave either one of you alone that quickly. If you fold easily to him, I fear what else he thinks he’d be able to do. Harper, this is your money.”
“It’s dirty,” she yells, looking back and forth between us with tears welling in her eyes.
All three of us look toward the door when the doorbell rings. Kiernan approaches it slowly, looking out the window. His tense shoulders relax before swinging open the door to let James in.
“No,” Harper yells, holding out her hand palm up, trying to ward him off. “Not you, too. I don’t want to hear it.”
James doesn’t say a word, only frowns, staring at Harper. His eyes meet mine after a second, and I nod.
“I found him.”
“Where?” I demand.
“One of his shell corporations owns the building where Harper’s apartment is. His apartment is across the hall.”
“Fuck,” Kiernan breathes.
I stand up from the couch, my hands balling into fists. “You’re telling me, he was right there all along? Fucking watching her all this time?”
James nods.
“That’s how he knew when I left her alone?”
James nods again. “I still think you have a rat problem.”
“Motherfucker,” I roar, pacing to keep the need to punch something at bay. I turn toward Harper. “You’re not giving him a fucking dime of your money.”
“What money?” James asks.
“My dad and Santiago left me three hundred fifty million dollars. I just found out. Want it?”
James stares at her, his eyes bugging out of his head, and I’ve never seen him so expressive. “Uh, no thanks.”
“Do you think Savannah and Liam want it? They just got married, newlyweds always need money, right?”
James looks at her like she’s lost her mind but doesn’t answer her.
“Can we transfer the money to her bank account here?” I ask Kiernan.
“Moving that type or cash isn’t something that goes unnoticed, it would raise a lot of red flags. It can slowly be moved in small increments. Still though, red flags. It will be easy enough to get debit cards for each account.”
“Do whatever you want,” Harper says. “I’m not taking the money.”
“It’s yours,” I say.
“My dad and Santiago did God knows what to earn that money. I won’t touch it.”
I shake my head, refusing to argue about this anymore. “We need to get going if we’re going to make it Dallas in time.”
“Fine,” Harper agrees, marching off toward the bedroom.
“Fuck, this is a mess,” I mutter with my hands on my hips.
“Hopefully whatever’s in the safety deposit box will shed some light,” Kiernan says.
41
Harper
Roman and I haven’t said a word to each other, and we’ve been in the car for an hour. When I got in, I crossed my arms over my chest, looking out the window. Roman pried one of my arms away from my body and held my hand in his lap. He didn’t say anything, and I could feel the anger rolling off of him, too, but he kept my hand in his lap, rubbing circles on it since we left the driveway.
“What do you think the little nugget is?” Roman says, breaking the silence.
“What?” I ask.
“The baby, our little nugget. Boy or girl?”
“Boy,” I answer automatically.
Roman smiles, looking over at me, raising my hand to kiss my knuckles. “Why?”
“When the test read positive, I immediately pictured a little boy running around, trying to be just like his dad.”
“I think girl. A girl just a stunning as you who won’t date until I’m dead.”
“Good luck with that.” And just like that, Roman pulled me from my sour mood and made me laugh and smile. He kisses my hand again with a smile on his face. “I can’t believe you’ve only taken me on one real date and I’m pregnant.”
“Okay, let’s make this a date.”
“A car ride to Dallas that could potentially make our lives messier is going to be our date?” I ask skeptically.
“Don’t think about the destination, put it out of your mind for now. Fact is something neither one of us can even guess is waiting for us a few hours away. Second fact is that no matter what it is or how all this bullshit settles, there’ll still be you and me. We’ll still be us, not a damn thing in this world will ever change that. I just got you back, I’m not wasting another second of it. Ten
years was too damn long, Sugar.”
“Okay,” I say, trying to get my swoon under control. “We’re on a date.”
“Did you date anyone seriously while we were apart?” Roman tenses as soon as the question is out in the open. He glances at me before flicking his eyes back to the road. In that one second, I can tell this has been weighing heavily on his mind.
“No.” I shrug. “I never made it past date three with a guy.”
“Why not?”
“As much as I wanted to hate you, none of them were you. Roman, you set me on fire with one look, you have from the first time we met. When you touch me, I feel it everywhere. Being around you is like a sensory overload. If a man couldn’t make me feel even a fraction of that, why bother?”
“Christ,” Roman breathes. “How did I get so damn lucky?”
I smile, shaking my head. I’m the lucky one. “Did you date anyone seriously?”
“No, Sugar. Never. I didn’t even try. I won’t lie and say I’ve been celibate all these years, but everything I’ve done to become the man I am has been for you. Serving our country, rising in the ranks, earning my degree afterward, starting a successful company, investing the inheritance from Santiago, all of it. It was all for you. It took me too damn long to get here, I own that mistake. But I knew I would come for you one day.”
“Why did it take so long?” I ask. I don’t need to ask him how he knew during our separation that we’d find each other again. If I broke myself open and dug around in my inner most thoughts, I thought the same. I’ve belonged to him since I met him. My heart started beating for him the first time he kissed me. My soul bound to his irrevocably the first time we made love. No other man could ever truly have me. They didn’t lose before the game started, they were never even in the game.
“I never thought I was enough for you. I hated where I came from, I hated that your parents and Santiago pitied me.”
I cut him off. “They did not pity you. My family, no matter their faults, loved you. You were Sadie’s hero. Mom and Dad loved you like a son, knew you would be their son one day. Have I ever told you what my mom said to me after she met you?”
“No.”
“You walked out the door after dinner that night and kissed me on the porch. I was leaning against the door when my mom came into the foyer. My heart was still racing from your kiss. She was smiling so big, Roman. She had tears in her eyes as she watched me catch my breath. Then she said if anything ever happens to her, she’ll never have to worry about me. She said I’d be taken care of and she’d be damn proud to have you as a son-in-law. She’d never seen anyone so in love at such a young age. She solidified every thought I was already having. I already knew I wanted to marry you, but I worried I was just being a silly high school girl. I wasn’t, though. I just happened to meet my soulmate young.”
Roman breathes deeply, taking in everything I told him. After a moment, I squeeze his hand. “They never pitied you. Continue. Why did it take so long?”
“I wanted to be someone who deserved you, who could give you the type of life you were accustomed to having. Your dad could provide you with anything. I wanted to do that for you. Even after the inheritance and success with the company, I still never felt like I was enough. Told myself you were better off.”
“I wasn’t better off. I was missing my heart.”
“I still don’t think I deserve you, but I’m done staying away. The moment I walked into your room, I couldn’t even see you, just your hair, but I knew I’d do anything to hear you tell me you love me.”
“I love you, Roman.”
He looks at me, bringing my hand to mouth, pressing a gentle kiss. “I love you, too.”
We pass the hours getting to know each other even more and catching up on the ten years. My favorite part of the drive is when we argue about baby names. Even being able to do that feels monumental. By the time we pull into the bank parking lot, I feel ready to take on the world.
“Ready?” Roman asks, staring up at the tall skyscraper in downtown Dallas.
“Yeah,” I say confidently. “I have you and we can get through anything.”
Roman and I walk into the bank holding hands, marching toward one of the teller windows with purpose.
“How can I help you?” a sweet older woman asks.
“I need inside of my safe deposit box, but I lost the key.”
“Okay, dear. Please take a seat in the lobby and I’ll get a manager to help you.”
“Thanks,” I say before we walk toward two chairs next to each other.
Before either one of us can settle in for our wait, the manager comes to sweep us away. After checking my ID and verifying my social security number, she leads us into a vault with safety deposit boxes from floor to ceiling. The manager uses a key to unlock the box but doesn’t open it. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
“Thank you,” I say, not taking my eyes from the box in front of me. It’s one of the smallest in the room, just a thin cubby.
“I’m right here,” Roman whispers, wrapping an arm around me.
My shaking hand pauses right before it touches the handle to open the door. I take a deep breath, preparing myself. When I open the door, I’m confused. There’s a single sheet of paper with nothing else. It isn’t in my father’s writing, but Uncle Santiago’s.
I show Roman the note after I read it. His eyes pop up to meet mine, mirroring my confusion.
Look in the jewelry box.
42
Harper
“My mom’s jewelry box?” I ask Roman, looking up at him.
“I don’t know, Sugar.”
“I don’t know of any other jewelry box, and my dad made it for my mom.”
“Then it’s probably the one.”
“Yeah,” I say quietly, looking down at the single piece of paper. Roman takes his phone out of his pocket, turning on the flashlight and crouching down to look inside.
There’s nothing else in there; it’s just empty. How long has this been in here? Uncle Santiago died a few weeks before my twenty-first birthday, so it’s been here for at least seven years.
I flip the page over, looking for any information other than the few words written on the front. What am I supposed to look for in the jewelry box? I’ve opened it weekly for the past ten years. I wear my mom’s jewelry often. I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary.
“Maybe something is engraved on one of the pieces,” I suggest quietly.
“Maybe,” he murmurs just as softly, taking the piece of paper from my hand and looking at it. Roman holds it up to the light, but it’s still just a single sheet of computer paper with a few words scrawled in the middle.
“What do we do now?” I ask. “Does this even have anything to do with Rafael?”
“I don’t know.” Roman shrugs before pulling me into a hug. “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m not really sure. I feel underwhelmed. I don’t know what I was think could be in here, but I didn’t think it would be one single sheet of paper.”
“Me neither.”
I squeeze his middle, hugging him tighter, breathing in his spicy scent. His heartbeat against my ear calms me down.
“Ready?” he asks.
“On to the next piece of the puzzle,” I say.
He doesn’t let go of me yet, just continues to hold me. “When we get into the car, we leave this bullshit here. We’re back on our date, okay?”
I smile into his chest. “Sounds perfect.”
We walk hand-in-hand to the van. I turn my face toward the sun, soaking it up, and leave every emotion I felt in that vault behind. Roman opens the door for me, making sure I’m settled before he jogs around to the other side of the van. When he gets in the car, I lean over the console, brushing my finger along his arm. “So, is this the third date or a continuation of the second date?”
“Isn’t the third date the one where the guy gets lucky?”
“Yes,” I say, smiling flirtatiously.
“Definitely the third date,” he says, flashing me a grin and a wink.
I pat my stomach, laughing. “Although I think you already got lucky.”
Roman grabs my hand, bringing it to his lap and looking at me before pulling out of the parking lot. “You have no idea. I’m already so damn lucky.”
“Why Tennessee?”
“Nashville is a big market for security. There’s a lot of celebrities and it’s a major city, so investigation work is never in short supply. I didn’t want to be in New York, Chicago, or LA. In my mind that left Texas or Nashville.”
“If you chose Texas, we could have had this reunion a lot sooner.”
“I knew that would happen if I chose Texas. I had nothing when I discharged from the army except an inheritance I didn’t understand but also didn’t deny.”
“So that left Nashville.”
“Yep,” Roman said.
“Do you like it there?”
“It’s a neat city, but it’s not home.”
“Where do you consider home?” I ask. Even when we were young he didn’t feel like his trailer park was a home.
“Wherever you are,” Roman answers. “The place doesn’t matter, you’re what anchors me.”
Swoon.
“I love when you melt,” Roman says in a husky voice. The pure hunger in his eyes makes my breath catch.
“Not so fast, this date just started. You’re not guaranteed to get lucky.”
“I’m not too worried about it.” Roman winks, sending my heart fluttering. He’s the sexiest man without even trying. He makes driving a minivan look sexy. His toned, tan arm is stretched in front of him, holding the top of the wheel. I shiver thinking about him above me. His cocky smile tells me he doesn’t miss my reaction to him.
“Have you ever thought about opening a bakery?” Roman asks, taking me by surprise.
“No, not really. I mostly consider baking to just be a hobby for myself. I love making things for my friends. I thought about having a little dessert area in the boutique. I thought it would be fun to go shopping with girlfriends and being able to have a coffee and dessert after buying some clothes.”