Tucker and Shadow join us just in time. Shadow walks straight to the coffee maker and pours a cup while Tucker claims his usual place at the table. Shadow and Tucker’s eyes meet and they lock onto each other. Tucker’s narrow to mere slits as he glares at Shadow, while the amusement dances in Shadow’s eyes.
“What’s going on with you two this morning?” I ask, unable to withhold my smile. They’re like two brothers who constantly pick on each other–but wouldn’t allow anyone else to do the things they do to each other.
“Last night, I walked in on Tucker – “ Shadow begins but Tucker quickly cuts him off.
“Shut it, man. I don’t care what the CIA taught you. I will flat kick your ass right here in the kitchen.”
Shadow’s laugh reverberates off the walls and echoes throughout the house. Tucker’s face is bright red with embarrassment and anger. Shadow is fully bent over at the waist, his head almost to his feet, as he holds his stomach from laughing pains. “Oh my god, I can’t breathe!” he pants as he tries to regain his composure.
“You should fucking knock first, man,” he swears under his breath as Shadow takes his seat beside Tucker. This only makes it harder for Shadow to quit laughing. He quickly covers his mouth and turns his head away from Tucker, burying his face in his own muscular shoulder as his body continues to shake.
Holding up my hands in surrender, I say, “Just forget I asked, okay? I really don’t want to know now.” I can’t withhold my own snicker, which comes out as a very unladylike snort. This is apparently the worst thing I could’ve done because Shadow launches from his chair just as he bursts out in laughter again.
Kayla, Rick, Dominic, and I all exchange humorous glances before we all erupt in laughter, at Tucker’s expense. Tucker covers his face with his big hands, but soon he’s shaking from laughter and joins us in openly laughing at himself. This is apparently something we all needed because everyone is wiping away happy tears before we begin breakfast.
Shadow retakes his seat and Tucker elbows him in the ribs, just for good measure. “For the record,” Tucker starts, “I’d like to clarify something.”
“Tucker, we really don’t need to hear about your nocturnal activities at the breakfast table. Just leave it at that,” Dominic says with a smirk.
The past two days have flown by way too quickly. We just dropped Kayla and Rick off at the airport for their flight back home. It’s strange how quickly I became attached to them, having them around, and spending time with them. It’s much like the way I fell in love with Dominic–it only took a short time around him to know he is a wonderful man. He’s strong, confident, and loving.
I couldn’t ask for a better partner for the rest of my life. My love for him is so strong I can’t help but just watch him as he drives us home. Tucker and Shadow have both been working nonstop since all of this began so he gave them the day off today. He said they needed to rest up and be ready for tomorrow.
Dominic’s eyes constantly roam from the road ahead, to the rearview mirror, and each side. He’s intently watching for anything even remotely dangerous in our vicinity. Needing to feel him, I slide my hand over his and lace our fingers together. He picks them up and kisses the back of my hand before giving me his mega-watt, melt-me-where-I-sit smile.
“I love that smile,” I tell him.
“Good. You’ll be seeing it for the next seventy years or so.”
“If anything happens to me tomorrow, I want you to know something,” I say softly.
His face takes on a look of fierce determination. “Nothing will happen to you.”
“I still want you to know.”
“Okay.”
“If anything ever happens to me, I want you to be happy again. I want you to find someone who sees how perfect you are, who feels how loving you are, and who knows that no other man compares to you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dominic
We’re quiet on the hour drive to the office this Monday morning. Shadow is driving us, as usual, and Tucker is following several car lengths behind us. Sophia is snuggled up to me, her head in the crook of my shoulder, and my arm is wrapped protectively around her.
Shadow and Tucker didn’t take the day off yesterday like I instructed. They met with the FBI team and covertly got everything set up for today. Part of me is glad the meeting isn’t until the end of the day so we have time for any last minute preparations. Or time to change my mind and get Sophia as far away from here as possible.
Another part of me wants to get it over with as soon as possible so that this fucking black cloud isn’t hanging over our lives. We should be enjoying every moment of Sophia’s pregnancy. Our only concern should be what color to paint the nursery and what decorations Sophia wants to buy. My every thought should revolve around my promise to make her the happiest woman in the world.
I should not have to worry that she’ll die today. That shouldn’t even be a remote possibility. I just got her back in my life, in my arms, and in my bed. Leaning my face down, I place soft kisses on her forehead, nose, and then on her lips.
“Are you scared?” I ask her.
“I’m scared something will happen to you.”
“I’ll be fine, My Angel. Don’t worry about me. I’ll crush him with my bare hands if I need to,” I assure her. She doesn’t look pleased with my response.
“He won’t fight fair, Dominic. Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Promise me you’ll stay in your office and won’t come out until I come get you.”
“I promise,” she says and then raises her eyebrows at me.
“I promise I will be careful, baby,” I concede. “Hey, remember last night? I’m looking forward to doing that again tonight.”
Her cheeks fill with the beautiful shade of blush pink I love to see on her. There were no whips, restraints, or clamps last night–it was slow, intimate, and full of love. We were in sync, insatiable, and connected on more than a physical level. The thoughts of losing her plagued my dreams again, of not getting to her in time, of seeing her being stripped from my arms, so I woke many times during the night. Each time, she awoke to find me ready to make love to her one more time, and she accepted me with open arms.
Once inside the office, I find it harder to let her go than I anticipated. “Sophia, we’re bringing your laptop to my office. You can work in there with me today until it’s time. It’ll make me feel better.”
“Sounds good to me, Dom,” she replies with a relieved smile.
The day goes by too quickly and before I know it, five o’clock is approaching. Everyone is set up in the next room, the video cameras are rolling, and Sophia is safely tucked away in her office. After a lengthy fight with the FBI SAC, I finally had to relent on my demand that Tucker stay in Sophia’s office with her. There are too few here, and because of legalities, we can’t supplement them with more Steele Security personnel. Tucker has been deputized by Shadow so he’s under their command for this operation.
Our guest of the hour, Sebastian Montoya shows up right on time and Dana shows him into my office. Standing, I refuse to move out from behind my desk to greet him. I’m sure if I do, I will rip him limb from limb. He extends his hand to me and I glare at it for several seconds before returning the gesture.
“Mr. Powers. Thank you for seeing me today,” his Latino accent is thick, but it’s his demeanor that makes him sleazy. His fake smile doesn’t reach his cold, black eyes. He’s close to my height but he’s not nearly as thick and muscular as I am. His black hair is slicked straight back off his face. “Is your lawyer joining us?”
“No, she’s not. I prefer we settle this like men.” In more ways that one.
“Ah, you are much like me, no?”
No, I’m nothing like you. His insulting question doesn’t deserve an answer. “Have a seat,” I gesture toward the chair.
“Mr. Powers, I will get straight to the point. As you know, this case would be best settled out of court. The damage to your reputation, and by
extension, your company’s reputation, if the embarrassing details of your…proclivities…were to reach the newspapers, would be catastrophic.
“My client is wiling to accept a settlement of fifty million dollars as compensation for pain, mental anguish, lost wages, and her extensive post traumatic stress disorder. Surely you can understand that the abuse you inflicted upon her has caused long-term psychological issues. She will require therapy for many years to come.”
It is taking every ounce of my considerable self-control to not launch myself across the desk and choke him out where he sits. As he drones on and on about the abuse I’ve inflicted upon Sophia, he has no idea that she sits in the office down the hall, working directly with me again. He has no clue that she’s pregnant with my baby, living in my house, and sleeping in my bed. His surveillance team has simply kept tabs on her coming and going from the building to make sure they can pull off this scam on me. Idiots.
That gives me hope that he’s not after Sophia at all. With Cortez as the head of this scheme, the others will likely disappear when he’s taken down. Cut the head off, the rest scatter into the wind.
“Fifty million dollars for pain and suffering? You can’t be serious,” the sarcasm and disdain is not hidden in my voice at all. “There’s no way anyone has suffered mental anguish to the tune of fifty million dollars.”
He sneers, “Part of that amount is to avoid your own mental anguish over the downfall of your company. Imagine how your investors will react to the news and bad press you’ll receive over this lawsuit.”
What an idiot. DPS is a privately owned company. I don’t have investors.
“You do have a point there,” I stall. I’m supposed to keep him talking and get him to admit to extortion. The amount he’s thrown out there is astronomical and he’s already hinting at hurting my business if I don’t pay, but he needs to be more direct with his threat. “I think I’ll have a drink. Bourbon?”
“Sure. Neat, please,” he replies with a smirk I’d like to bitch slap off his face.
As I’m walking to the bar at the other end of my office, I turn to him and say, “What makes you think that my sex life, outside of work, would hurt my business?”
Cortez stands and moves toward me. “Mr. Powers, if your bedroom antics were cast in such a light that showed your desire to harm and demean women, it would definitely hurt your business.”
“I don’t harm or demean women.”
“But that’s what the world will see when this gets leaked to the press. They’ll see videos of you abusing women, belittling them, calling them awful, dirty names,” he replies in a chastising manner.
“There are no such videos of me doing any of that.”
“Maybe not of you, per se, but it’ll look and sound like you. It’ll do enough damage and cause enough suspicion. I’d even be willing to be that more sexual harassment lawsuits against you would spring up.”
“With you as the attorney, no doubt,” I say as I pin him with my glare.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I would be the attorney representing them,” he smiles widely at me, thinking he’s won this game of chess. What he doesn’t realize is he just admitted to practicing law without a license to the FBI on top of the extortion.
Cortez walks past me and straight to the liquor cabinet. “You seem to have forgotten my drink,” he maintains eye contact, tsks at me as he opens the cabinet door, and retrieves a glass.
The whole scene unfolds in slow motion before my eyes. My thoughts are running rampant through my mind and my blood is beginning to boil as the only logical conclusion becomes clear. He knew where the glasses were kept without asking, without seeing me open the cabinet, and without even looking.
He’s been in here before now. He is the one who broke into my office.
“You don’t think I know who you are, do you?” My voice is low and threatening. The anger inside me has been replaced with pure, unadulterated rage, and I’m about to unleash it all on him. “Sebastian Montoya. Ramon Nunez. Detective Ramon Cortez.”
His arm stops in midair as he’s retrieving the tumbler. His back is as straight as a rod and just as stiff as one, too. He wasn’t expecting this–he didn’t expect me to remember him from a few years back. Even though he had a different name and a different look back then, it’s not nearly enough to throw me off. All the time spent protected by his cartel boss father has made him too cocky and careless.
“How do you know those names?” he finally asks.
“Surely you don’t think I would forget the detective who investigated my girlfriend’s death.”
His head whirls around to face me. “That was you? I never even really knew your name,” he says nonchalantly, his face holds a mixture of surprise and amusement. “You see, I was only there to help Harrison. I couldn’t let my friend go to prison for murdering his whore sister.
“And now, I’m afraid you must also die. If you’d just signed the papers without running your mouth, I wouldn’t have to do this. But since you obviously know who I am, I’m afraid I have no other choice. Not to worry, I will still have your money since I’m very good at what I do. Your death won’t be questioned.”
“You mean you’ll just forge my signature and make my death look like a suicide. Like you’ve done before.”
He laughs, an evil, maniacal laugh, “Exactly like I’ve done before!”
When his hand reaches inside his jacket, I know he’s reaching for his gun so I rush at him and body slam him on the floor. He is no match for my muscular build and he’s instantly lying flat on his back with the breath knocked out of him. Jutting my hand out, I grope for his gun but he quickly blocks my hand with his arm and tries to knee me in the groin.
This only serves to piss me off more and I punch him repeatedly in the face. While he’s disoriented, I grab the gun from his holster and move to stand. As I do, the FBI team rushes into my office, with Tucker and Shadow bringing up the rear. Their guns are drawn and they’re all yelling instructions at both Montoya and me. The scene is utter chaos as the team, minus Tucker and Shadow, begins to surround us.
“Hands up in the air where we can see them!” one agent yells.
“Put the gun down, sir!” another yells at me.
With my hands held up, I slowly lower the gun to the counter in front of me.
“Now step away!”
I take two steps away from the gun just as Tucker and Shadow reach my side. Tucker is more pissed off than I’ve ever seen him. “He’s not the one you should be focused on right now, dumbass!” he yells at the agent while pointing at me. “The fucker on the floor is the one you should have your guns trained on!”
“Standard safety protocol, Tucker,” the agent retorts. “Anyone can be a threat at any time.”
Two agents are picking a dazed and bloodied Montoya up off the floor while Tucker and Shadow walk away to help the other agent secure the cameras and other evidence from my office. In a flash, Montoya jerks free from the agents, grabs the gun from the counter, and begins to lower his arm toward me. Bending at my waist, I rush to grab him around the waist, tackle him like I’m a linebacker, and we both fall back to the floor.
Agents are grabbing and yelling at us as we roll on the floor, but we both keep wrestling for control of the gun. His knee jerks up and this time he makes contact with my crotch, causing me to flinch. He takes advantage of the moment to roll us over. When we’re in mid-roll, an agent trying to stop us tears Cortez’s arm free from my grasp and he has complete control of the gun. His hand with the gun is now wedged between our conjoined bodies and the barrel is pressed firmly against my chest. Instantly grabbing his gun hand with mine, our eyes connect and I instinctively know one of us will not walk away from this fight.
Grunting, groping, and wrestling with all of our might, we are locked in a battle of wills and strength. Mere seconds tick by but they feel more like hours as neither of us is willing to give in to the other. I’m much stronger than he is but the hold I have on him is compromi
sed by his bodyweight. There’s no way I can let go to get a better grip, but I know I have to do something right now. Without warning, the blast from the gun booms through my office, ricocheting off the walls. There’s complete stunned silence from everyone in the room for a nanosecond before the yelling resumes, this time with a different intensity.
“Dominic! Dominic, talk to me! Are you hurt? Are you shot?” Tucker yells at me as he closes in on me, tossing agents out of his path as if they weigh no more than a feather. Shadow is immediately behind him. “DOMINIC! SAY SOMETHING! ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!”
“Get this motherfucker off me,” I respond, pushing Montoya’s lifeless body off to the side. Dominic and Shadow lift me up off the floor and another FBI agent takes the gun from my hand to bag it for evidence.
“You scared the shit out of me, man,” Tucker says between heavy breaths.
“You and me both, brother,” I say as Tucker cups my shoulder with his hand. “Cortez was about to shoot me. I saw it in his eyes. When he realized this was a set up, I guess he figured he had nothing to lose. I bent his hand back away from me a split second before he squeezed the trigger. He ended up shooting himself, stupid son of a bitch.”
“Sophia is going to freak out when she sees you,” Shadow says as his eyes drop to my blood soaked shirt.
Jerking the shirt off me, the buttons fly across the room and I drop it in an evidence bag, too. “I’ll grab a spare shirt from the closet behind Dana’s desk.”
“Do you want me to go get Sophia?” Tucker asks.
“No, not until they get the body out of here. It’ll be bad enough when I tell her about it. I don’t want her to see it and have a visual to go with the story. I’ll text her from my phone and tell her I’m okay.”
After sending the text, I walk into the closet and grab a white button down shirt. Looking around, I’m glad to see that the top floor is vacated so only those of us who were involved in this sting operation are still here. Taking a seat in my chair, I drop my head into my hands and try to calm my heart that’s still beating out of control.
Her Dom's Lesson (Dominic Powers Book 2) Page 21