Adam's Fall

by Liv Morris

  “I thought I’d be arriving by myself since you have meetings there all day.” Her eyes dance at me in approval.

  “You’re kidding me? What man would allow you to walk in unescorted at tonight’s reception? Besides, it will be our first formal outing. The press will likely go nuts when we walk the red carpet.”

  “Our relationship should raise a few eyebrows.”

  “Yes, it will. Especially since I skated around the question of whether we are together at the press conference.” I have one more request before I leave. A simple wardrobe decision on her part. “Speaking of the red carpet… wear something that matches your lipstick.”

  ~

  Peters arrives on time for our meeting. He knocks on my office door as he walks into the room. I’m seated at the conference table, not at my desk, with my sleeves rolled up.

  “Morning, Mr. Kingsley.” Peters is carrying a computer case and wearing a fierce look of determination. He sits down in his usual chair by my desk and opens up his laptop. He presses a few keys, and he looks up at me, ready to engage. “Let’s hear what’s up. Thorpe, correct?”

  “Yes, you’ve been collecting information on him for years. I need to add up what we have because there’s a score I want to settle with him.” I clench my fists on top of the table because there is nothing else I can do when I think of Thorpe. Especially when I remember what Kathryn told me last night. I have to concentrate to loosen them and remain composed.

  “What kind of score?” Peters is paid to know all my secrets. He’s my crypt keeper—a paid vault to hold all kinds of information. He’s one of the only people I trust with everything. The million-dollar apartment I purchased for him here in Manhattan helps keeps the vault sealed, too.

  “He hurt someone I care for deeply.” I spit out my words. “And was never held accountable for his actions.”

  “Someone you care for deeply?” He meets my eyes with a knowing look. “Are you talking about Kathryn Delcour?”

  “Bingo!” I slam my hands against the shiny wood table, unable to contain my fury, and Peters jumps. “He has a long-standing, uncollected debt with her and her family.”

  Peters nods, understanding. “Okay, how bad of a hit do you want him to take? Slightly wounded?” He glances at my now-healing side. “Or a mortal blow?”

  “Mortal. The last nail in the coffin. In the business sense, that is.” I must have looked menacing because Peters stares back at me, startled.

  “Thorpe must’ve done something beyond his usual bullying.”

  “His actions caused Kathryn’s father’s death and made her flee to Paris.” My head pounds as anger fuels my beating heart. “What do you have? We need a trump card.”

  A light of understanding shines in Peters’ eyes. “Oh, the reason she left for Paris. The missing puzzle piece you asked about.”

  “Yes, the piece is found.” I tap my fingers on the table. “So, let’s have your best.”

  “There is a real estate deal he’s developing in Jersey. A massive commercial development. Remember it?” Peters asks with a hint of excitement while leaning toward me.

  “Yes, the economic zone in Camden,” I say and Peters nods, confirming my answer.

  “I’ve heard some rumors about the millions of dollars Thorpe has invested being used for other real estate deals. Peter to pay Paul, as it goes. He’s trying to prop up some bad deals, it seems, and I have some proof of the transactions.”

  “Okay, so he’s moving funds around.” I wonder how hard of a hit that would be. “I need more details.”

  “He appears to be funneling investor dollars into another project without their permission.”

  “I like the sound of this. It’s got scandal written all over it.” I silently create The New York Times headline when it reports Thorpe’s demise. I try to contain my excitement, but fail miserably.

  “Looks like you want me to pursue this avenue,” Peters states the obvious.

  I rise out of my chair and walk toward the windows, looking out over the Hudson River. The next words I speak will give the okay to destroy my own father. I swallow hard, but my answer comes easily when I picture a young Kathryn and what he put her through.

  “Do it.” I make the command while turning toward Peters. “But nothing illegal or potentially illegal on your part. Or at least don’t get caught.”

  “Give me until Wednesday. What are your plans after you have all the damaging info?” Good question.

  “I want to reveal what I have on him to his face. I want to set up a meeting, and I want you to attend with me. No one directly employed with Kings should be there. This is personal.”

  “So a meeting.” Peters scratches his head.

  “You said you’ll have the information lined up by Wednesday, right?” Peters nods. “So when I see him today at the Fortune 100 meetings, I’ll ask if I can meet with him Thursday morning. Bright and early before the markets open. It may be a long shot that he’ll agree, but I’m going to give it try.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll leave you this information.” Peters retrieves a few papers from his carrying case and spreads them out on the desk. “I will only document what I find on paper. Nothing via mail or text to avoid an electronic trail.”

  “Smart.” I take a page off the table and pick it up. “This is easily shredded.”

  “Exactly. Electronic trails are forever.” He closes his laptop and shoves it into his case. “I better get to work on this project. Good luck with Thorpe today.”

  “He’s the one who will need the luck. Maybe we should call back Hayes, just in case my temper gets the better of me.” Hayes returned back to Washington, DC, since things with the media have calmed. I imagine standing near Thorpe and being unable to resist the urge to take a couple of swings. And I smile.

  “Not a bad idea.” Peters has had plenty of opportunities over the years to see me explode. “You have to play it cool, though, if you have any chance of him agreeing to meet with you.”

  “I know. You’re right. I’ll ask him while there are others around. He’ll be more likely to say yes, and I’ll be less likely to punch his fucking face in.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Peters throws the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “Well, I’m off. Remember no texts on this subject. Paper and actual phone calls only.”

  “Got it.” I place both of my palms on the table and lean forward. “I’m going to enjoy watching him squirm.”

  “Me, too,” he says with a chuckle. “Hell, you’ve had me watching and working on a way to get him for years. Maybe I can take a vacation now.”

  “You help me pull this off and I’ll pay for you to take a trip around the fucking globe.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” He stretches his back before walking toward the door. “I sure as hell need time off.”

  “You and me both, my friend.” I clap my hand on his shoulder and he makes his exit. When the door closes, I turn and scan the view out my windows. Concrete and steel buildings, fortresses of power, stretch across the sky. I smile, knowing in a few days one man’s empire will come crumbling down. A pile of lies settling into dust.

  It’s time to make my way to the meetings for the day and work on that Thursday morning request.

  I grab my phone from my pocket, bring up Eddie’s number, and press call.

  “Yes, sir,” Eddie answers.

  “I’m ready. Out front in five.” I take a few seconds and browse through the papers Peters left me. Bank balances and money transfers coordinate with payments to corresponding developments. How they hell did Peters get his hands on these? The only answer is that he’s an investigating genius.

  I need to tuck them away somewhere safe because I sure as fuck can’t take them with me today. Walking to my office suite, I find the painting that hides my safe. Just like the one in my apartment, Peters demanded I install this one, too. Damn glad he did.

  A quick scan of my thumbprint and the lock clicks open. The space is empty since I like to keep my persona
l documents at home, but it’s been waiting for something special like these papers. I can only find one word for them: priceless.

  ~

  The last meeting of the day is coming to a conclusion. The group of men and women surrounding me has earned the right to be called Wall Street’s elite. I am a newcomer to this group. The new, young punk on the financial block. Most of them have been in the trenches longer than I’ve walked the earth.

  They’ve weathered the economic ups and downs. Survived the good and bad press, too. Needless to say, I’ve tried to listen and take notes as their wise advice and economic predictions circulate around me.

  But one voice in the meeting has made my blood boil. Thorpe. Fortunately, this is the only time today I’ve had to see his smug face. It’s no secret to him that I’m here. The only secret—to anyone outside of him and I—is that I’m his son. The bastard’s bastard.

  He walked into the room and scanned it, instantly finding me in the crowd. Our eyes locked and we exchanged the usual head bob. The only form of communication we’ve had in public.

  Today, his pompous arrogance enraged me and was too much to handle. When a subject was introduced, he shared his opinion without fail. Everyone looked at him in awe as if he was the man with all the answers. A few journalists joined us and eagerly typed his every word into their laptops.

  After listening to his pontificating for almost an hour, I found myself itching to get up from my chair, grab his tie, and strangle him with it. Murderous thoughts that helped satisfy my fury kept speeding through my head.

  I need to rein myself in and gather control over my emotions. I’ve yet to speak with him and request a meeting for Thursday. Appearing calm and conciliatory will be the best approach.

  Taking slow, deep breaths like Kathryn has taught me, I begin to calm down. Even the tightly screwed muscles in my face loosen as I remember her soothing touch.

  As the meeting’s leader officially dismisses the gathering, Thorpe rises from his seat and converses with a CEO from the food industry. Not his usual audience or victim.

  I force myself to move toward him as I continue my breathing. The closer I am to being in his presence, the tighter my fists become. I need to release them before they give me away. I need to act natural and mask my hate behind a smiling face.

  I close my eyes briefly and exhale. With a subtle shake of my head, it clears and my fists relax. I focus on the end result because it’s my only chance of success.

  “Good afternoon, gentleman.” I introduce myself to the two men in front of me. The words leave my lips without a twinge of anger. This successful first step spurs me on.

  I’d expect nothing less. His voice unnerves me, and I stuff my left hand in my pocket because I want to punch his egotistical face. It will serve as an outlet to my anger during this conversation. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met.”

  No we haven’t, you bastard! is what I really want to say. However, I take the hand he’s offered and shake it. “Mr. Thorpe.” I retract my hand and wipe my palm on the outside of my suit jacket.

  His eyes follow my movements then return to my face, amused. My face remains impassive under his scrutiny. So far all my anger stays contained.

  “Adam Kingsley,” the gentleman to my left finally speaks up. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Jon Canton of Mason Foods. Congratulations on Kings Capital making the top 100.”

  “Nice to meet you, and thanks. We barely snuck onto the list, but we’re here amongst the greats.” I turn to Thorpe as I finish my sentence. He’s continuing to eye me, waiting for my next move. Here it goes. “Mr. Thorpe—”

  “Please, cut the formal bullshit.” I’m taken aback by his brusqueness. I glance at Mr. Canton, whose eyes are wide in shock. Terse is an understatement for Thorpe’s tone. Rude would be more fitting. “Just call me X.”

  “As you wish, X.” I smile, successfully hiding my previous desire to throttle him. The chance of publicly squashing this arrogant jerk calms me. There is something to be said for having the last laugh. “You mentioned today that you’re looking for companies to help develop areas that are still struggling with the economy.”

  “Yes, we have a development in Camden, New Jersey that will change the face of the city.” He sticks his chest out, and I wait for him to start beating it. “I’ve succeeded as a real estate mogul here in New York City, so it’s time to spread my talents around.”

  “I was interested in hearing about the strides you’re making, too.” Poor Mr. Canton tries to interject himself in our conversation but is quickly brushed aside when we ignore him.

  “I’m curious to learn more. Possibly become involved on a corporate level.” I speak with mock enthusiasm, but the source of my upbeat mood lies in setting a trap for Thorpe.

  “Honestly?” Thorpe appears astonished and a little leery of my interest.

  “Yes, I’m interested in finding out more details on how partners can invest.” I chuckle to myself at this gross understatement. “I’d like to meet you one morning this week. Early Thursday, if that works for you.”

  “All right, Adam. I’m not sure what you’re trying to pull here, but I’ll bite. Thursday works. Seven a.m. sharp.” He straightens his back, becoming more rigid, and reaches out his hand to me once again. “Gentlemen.” He shakes both Canton’s and my hand before turning on his heel to leave. His quick departure doesn’t leave us any time for a proper response.

  “Well that was one damn intense conversation.” I’d momentarily forgotten the man next to me as I watched the devil himself walk away.

  “Pardon me?”

  “You and Thorpe. Are you sure you’ve never before?” Mr. Canton is one intuitive son of a bitch. He could see that something lies deeper between Thorpe and me.

  “Never officially. But we do know one another from a long time ago.” Mr. Canton accepts this explanation with a simple nod. “Well that might explain the fencing match I just observed.” He laughs at his own joke. But I suspect his comment is more to ease the tension in the air than an attempt at humor.

  “He might have been in danger if I’d been armed with an actual sword.” I throw out a little laugh so my seriousness appears to be in jest.

  If Mr. Canton only knew the truth.

  Chapter 14

  “Hi.” Kathryn’s voice is soft when she answers my call.

  “Hi, beautiful. I can’t wait to see what you decided to wear to the reception tonight.” Eddie and I are on the way to pick her up at her apartment. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “I matched my lipstick as you requested.” She purrs into the phone and I imagine her licking those red lips.

  “I thank you in advance.” I grin at her feistiness.

  “I’m ready, so I’ll meet you in the lobby.” She doesn’t sound apprehensive about tonight, which sets my mind at ease. Her attendance should be her choice, not done to please me. Coming face-to-face with Thorpe after what he did to her takes strength, and Kathryn has that in spades.

  “Perfect. See you soon.” I end the call and start another one.

  “Evening, Mr. Kingsley,” Peters answers before I hear it ring. He must have been waiting for my call.

  “We have a meeting for Thursday. Thorpe seemed leery of me. I expected nothing else. I told him I wanted to discuss the development in Camden. As an investor, of course.”

  “Smart. To be a fly on the wall for that conversation.” He chuckles.

  “My performance was going to go one of two ways: stuffing away my anger or hitting him in the jaw. I think I won an Oscar.”

  “You must have. I have been pressing my sources for more information. I think you’ll be pleased.”

  “Let’s meet on Monday morning around eight. We can go over what you’ve found.”

  “Yes. See you then, Mr. Kingsley.” I end the call as Eddie slows the SUV in front of Kathryn’s building.

  “Be right back with the lady, Eddie.” I exit the SUV a second after the wheels stop turning. Walking past her
doorman, I nod my head and he responds with a smile. I want to tell him to get used to me because I plan on being in Kathryn’s life for some time. Actually, I have no plans of not being in her life, ever.

  Ahead of me, Kathryn is standing next to the lobby desk. My forward motion comes to a complete stop as I process the entire package before me. Kathryn is in a red halter dress. Her hair waves around her bare shoulders, a perfect contrast against her pale skin. I itch to have my fingers in her hair... and panties.

  She is a naughty goddess whose beauty radiates around her. My pulse races as I step quickly to her.

  “Hot damn,” I blurt out once I’m able to touch her. Taking her hand, I spin her around. Her dress flares as the air catches it. A red, silky circle floats between us. The front dips dangerously low and ties behind her neck. I can’t imagine she’s wearing a bra. Knowing that undoing the straps behind her neck will leave her bare before me causes my cock to harden. I’m not sure how I will make it through the night.

  “You like?” She bites down on her ruby lips while toying with the knotted strand of pearls lying in the valley of her glorious tits. I have to shake my head before answering her.

  “Like? That word inadequately describes my feelings.” I lower my lips to her ear so I can whisper my next comment. My eyes close as I savor her scent and ride its high. “Love, or perhaps lust, is a better word. Because I want to lay you down on the desk next to us and make you mine.”

  I detect a slight shiver as my lips skate over the skin behind her ear. While kissing the tender area, I take her into my arms. “I don’t know if I want other men to see you looking the way you do tonight. I can’t imagine their thoughts will differ from mine.”

  “Not all men are sex-driven animals like you.” She pulls away so that I can see a teasing smile play across her lips.

  “When they see you”—I run my hands down the sides of her dress, ending right above her sweet ass—“dressed like this, they’ll have no choice. It’s fucking involuntary.”