London Calling: BWWM New Adult Romance (Chase Brothers Book 2)

by Malone, Nana

  Alistair stared at him for a long moment then laughed. "Have you been shooting the stuff your heroin-chic models love so much? I'm not going anywhere. Nor am I resigning from the Artistic Trust. It's a prestigious position, one I work hard for."

  Xander thought he'd be angrier, but he felt nothing, complete apathy. "You will resign and I’ll tell you why. Since I took my position, I’ve been doing a little digging. I figured if I looked closely enough I’d find something to pin on you. Hell, I thought I’d find that you were a sick fuck like your father was. I expected complaints of inappropriate behavior, payoffs. And don’t get me wrong, I’m going to continue to dig.”

  He drew in a deep breath before continuing. He’d waited so long for this moment. “But imagine my surprise when I found you’ve been skimming money from several discretionary accounts. And even better, you’ve been using the money to pay off gambling debts. I asked around and seems you owe money to a nasty bunch of Russian mobsters called Pushka.”

  “You’re full of shit. You don't have anything on me.”

  Xander smirked, starting to enjoy himself just a little. “If you say so. I can’t imagine Pushka will be pleased when the money dries up. Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

  “You have no proof.”

  Unfortunately, the evidence Garrett had found was circumstantial. It wouldn’t hold up in court, but he wasn’t taking this to court, he was going to press Alistair’s balls so hard he would beg to step down. “Is that what you’re telling yourself?” He held up a thick file. “It’s all here. Thanks to a little help from Jillian, or is it Julia? I can never remember your wife’s name.”

  It was only then that Alistair’s eyes bugged out. The older man lunged for him and Xander stood smoothly, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet. He’d been ready for this for a long time.

  “You’re a twat.”

  Xander shrugged. “Yeah, probably. But at least I’m not a thief. I haven’t taken anyone’s youth or money.”

  “What do you want to hear? That I’m sorry for what my father did to you. That I was afraid of defying him. That I knew the pain you were going through. Fine. I’m sorry. I wish I could take it back.”

  Fury propelled Xander until he had Alistair’s lapels in his hands. There was a distinct lack of sincerity to the apology that made his blood boil. But more than that, he hadn’t forgotten how the man had tried to ruin his life. “You’re bleeding sorry, you git? Your lies destroyed me. And now I’m going to destroy you.” He released him and Alistair stumbled back.

  “You don’t understand, Pushka will kill me.”

  Xander shook his head. “Not my problem. And I’m afraid there is more bad news. As we speak, Alexi and I now own fifty-five percent of Trident Media. Starting as soon as we can manage it, we'll be dismantling your holdings brick by brick—everything you and your father built or you built with his money. I'm not going to rest until it lays in a pile of rubble at my feet."

  Alistair blanched. "You're a fucking liar."

  "You can feel free to call your lawyer. You should have been getting frantic emails by now. Our lawyers made the move for takeover this morning."

  Alistair frowned and yanked his phone out of his pocket. With one glance, he threw it down. "What the fuck do you think you've done? This is my family's company."

  "Yes, yes it is. Which is precisely why I want it razed. You will not profit any more from your family name or what you let your father do to me."

  Alistair planted his hands on Xander's desk. "If you do this, I'll tell everyone that you killed him. The world will know."

  "Go ahead. You do that, and open up those old wounds and cover-ups, I'll expose your father for the nonce he was. And given what he did to me and how good he was at keeping secrets, I doubt I was the only one he hurt."

  "Fuck you," Alistair sputtered, rage etched over his features.

  Though Xander smiled, he didn't feel how he’d anticipated. All he felt at the moment was empty. "You know, rationally, I can forgive that night from you. You were a teenager. Still a child. I could have let you walk away from that. What I couldn't let you walk away from is when you were an adult. You deliberately ripped the woman I loved away from me to protect your past. You did that to me willfully and deliberately. For that alone, I could kill you. But I'll settle for your livelihood instead."

  "I will kill you."

  "You're welcome to try." Xander held up his bruised fists. "But the last bloke who thought he’d have a go ended up in the nick for his efforts. Care to take your chances?"

  "You cannot do this."

  "Oh I can. You will resign today if you want to walk away with any of your money. Otherwise, I will make it my personal agenda to strip you of any fortune you have left. I will tell everyone on the board what you helped do to me." He shook his head. "I have nothing to lose anymore. You think I care what people say about me? I could give a fuck."

  "You're a dead man, I will destroy you."

  Xander rocked back onto his heels. "Too late for that. You maybe could have been a decent human being once. And maybe you were a victim of what your father did once, but no more. You've made this particular bed. Now you have to lie in it. I expect to see that resignation letter in my inbox within the hour. I'm meeting with LeClerc then. If you haven’t resigned, I'm telling him everything."

  Red faced and blustering, Alistair pointed a finger at him. "We are not finished. This isn’t over. I will see you rot for this."

  "That's where you’re wrong. We are done. I've been twisting in the wind for years. Now it's over. Get the hell out of my bloody office."

  As he watched Alistair walk out, he felt some relief, but mostly he felt numb. It was done. He was finally done. He'd leave the dismantling of Trident Media to Annabel and the finance guys. But he had survived and won. Then why don't I feel better?

  His phone rang, dragging him out of his reverie. "Xander here."

  "It's Jean."

  "Hi, don’t we have a meeting in an hour?"

  "This won’t wait."

  Something in the older man's voice told him he'd inadvertently fucked something up. "What's the matter?"

  "The model, Bobby Reynolds, is she a friend of yours?"

  Something about the way the question was asked told him to tread lightly. "I know her work. But can’t say that I know her."

  "Interesting that you would say that. Because she certainly knows you. She’s refused to work with you and has pulled her support of the trust."

  "What?" His brain scanned his memory banks. There were so many women, all of them blending into one another. He had no recollection of her whatsoever. "This is fucked."

  "You’re telling me. Come down to my office, we'll need to work through it today and come up with another solution."

  "Yeah, I'm on my way." When he hung up, he ran his hands through his hair. After all of that it wasn’t over, his past was still reaching out to fuck with him. He checked the time and groaned. It was already four. There was no way he'd be getting out of here in time to meet Imani for dinner.

  He sent her a quick text.

  Stuck at work. Going to be a late night. I'm sorry. Rain check?

  The reply was instant.

  Okay, I'll miss you.

  Two minutes later a photo message came through. It was one of the ones he'd taken of her with his phone and loaded to his computer. Imani, on the bed, bare-faced, the sheet barely covering her nipples.

  His cock twitched and he groaned against the spike of need in his blood. His hands were shaking when he tapped out a reply.

  I swear, I'm hurrying home.

  She sent him a smiley face in return.

  You do that.

  Twenty-Eight

  Imani rolled her shoulders. Between rehearsals ramping up and a problem with a campaign at work for Xander, she’d barely seen him all week. She missed him. Focus on what’s real. Reluctantly, she dragged her attention back to rehearsals.

  “Imani, that was grea
t. Let's take it from the top of that scene again. Ryan, remember to give her something to work with. Make me believe that you love her but you can't deal with seeing her as your equal. I want to believe. I need to feel it, otherwise your audience won't. And watch your lines in the middle there. I think you skipped around. Watch Imani for your cues."

  As Charles went back to his seat, Ryan's handsome face creased into a frown. While she was on today and completely in her element, he seemed off, unfocused. All day he'd been flubbing lines and missing his cues.

  When they turned to take their positions downstage, she leaned in. "Where are you today? The longer you’re out of it, the longer we stay."

  The muscle in his jaw ticked. "Are you seriously going to marry that photographer?"

  "What?"

  "I saw it in OK Magazine. I thought he was kidding when I ran into you at Roof Gardens.”

  "What business of yours is it if it's true or not?"

  He spoke through clenched teeth. “Come on, Imani. You know how I feel about you."

  Her skin crawled. "And I have been honest as to how I feel about you, Ryan. I would rather have my skin peeled off without the benefit of anesthesia than voluntarily be near you again." She didn't bother to look at him as she settled on her mark.

  The rest of rehearsal went smoother. Ryan was more focused and gave her someone to act against so it made her life easier. And just before Charles closed for the day, she saw Xander at the top of the auditorium. Even if his beautiful features were masked by the darkness, the way he moved gave him away. Also, the freshmen tittering in the corner as they gawked at him were a pretty good indicator of who it was.

  When she finished and said goodbye to everyone, she took her time climbing the stairs, letting her hips sway with each step.

  By the time she reached him, a devilish smile played across his lips. "You do love to tease a bloke, don't you?"

  "Was I teasing?" She cocked her head. "I wasn’t aware of any teasing. I just walked the stairs."

  He gave her the devil's own grin. "If we're being honest, love, I'm not sure who had the better view, me from the front or that tosser you call an ex."

  She shrugged off the shadow that crawled through her at the mention of Ryan. “If you like, I can give you the same walk later."

  "Deal." His voice was light and he smiled at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  "What's wrong?"

  He frowned at that. "Who said anything was wrong? I came to see my talented fiancée. Is there a crime against that?"

  There was that word again. When he said it, she couldn’t help but start to pretend that it was real. Dangerous territory. "I guess not. What do you want for dinner? I'm starving. I could tear up some curry right about now."

  He rocked back on his heels. "Sure. Whatever you want."

  "Okay, come on," she said as she took his hand. "You might as well tell me what's bugging you. You being quiet weirds me out. You’re either ordering me around or flirting. This whole quiet, subdued thing really isn't working for me."

  They walked out of the auditorium and he dragged her to the courtyard, which was nearly deserted. "I wanted to give you something."

  "Okay?" Anxiety had her stomach knotting into a tight ball.

  He pulled out an envelope from his pocket, handing it to her."

  Carefully, she opened it, then scanned the scientific jargon and the words negative down the page. "What is this?"

  Xander sighed heavily and shoved one hand in his pocket, the other one scrubbing down his face. "After everything, I can only guess my history worries you a little. So I went and got myself tested a couple of days ago. Clearly I'm no virgin, but—" he shrugged—"maybe this wipes my slate clean a little."

  Warmth spread through her body starting in her chest as the knot in her gut loosened. "I don’t need you to be a virgin. Those skills of yours come in pretty handy."

  The sexy grin was back. "Want to clarify which skills in particular you find useful?"

  She shook her head. "Thank you for this."

  He licked his lips. "We're sort of in new territory here. I haven’t had a relationship in a long time."

  She understood his hesitation and she had some of her own. She wanted him too. But could she trust someone like him? Too handsome, too rich. With too many secrets. He’d already proven he was a better man than Ryan. Maybe it was time to take a chance.

  "I guess we start slow." She licked her lips nervously. “But this is a beautiful gesture. And I guess I’ll match it with one of my own and tell you I’m on the pill.”

  His pupils dilated and he groaned. “You can’t tell me something like that when we’re in public. It makes me want to drag you off to the nearest semi-private room and sink into you bare.”

  Her brow arched. “So much for going slow.”

  He leaned his head back. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I can wait until we get home.”

  “Your restraint is remarkable.”

  Laughing, he slung an arm over her shoulder. “So is this a bad time to mention that my mother wants to meet you?"

  Her steps faltered. "What? Your mother? Oh hell. She’ll know that we’re not actually engaged. Mothers have a sixth sense about these things."

  "You don’t have to lie to her. I told her the situation. Or at least most of it. But she won’t get off my case until I present you."

  "Xander, I dunno. I—”

  "You'll meet her, then she'll back off. Please?"

  With one uttered word, she knew she couldn't deny him. "Why do I have the feeling that I’m going to regret this?”

  #

  The doorman greeted Imani with his usual cheery smile and Yorkshire accent. She still could barely make out the, "How are you, love?" But she smiled and answered with a distracted hello.

  When the elevator dinged and opened at the penthouse level, she saw that Alistair waited for her outside their front door.

  "A-Alistair, what are you doing here?"

  He shook his head. "I didn't believe you actually lived here. I'll give him this. When he commits to something, he really commits. Tell me, what's the plan? You stay married for a couple of months, then you have a dust-up and splitsville?"

  Heat suffused her face. That was exactly the plan. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

  "I must say, you are certainly committed to the ruse. I'm sure Xander's reported prowess in the sack has something to do with it. He knows how to fuck women into a stupor. How does it feel to be one of many?"

  Jutting her chin out, she glared at him. “Like I said, it’s time for you to go.” Quickly assessing the situation, she knew the elevator was her best bet to get away from him.

  "And like I said, I'll wait for Xander inside."

  "I don’t think that's going to happen, Alistair. You and I both know how Xander feels about you. And frankly, you shouldn't be here. Isn't he at the office anyway?"

  Alistair strode to her, standing directly in her path, blocking any access she had to the flat. She stood her ground and tipped her head up so their gazes would meet. She recognized the gesture. It was one of dominance, designed to make her cow. Directors used it to convey who the aggressor was without actually stating it. "You need to back up about five feet, Alistair. I don't like being crowded.”

  His brows snapped down and he looked confused for a moment, but then backed up a couple of feet. Not far enough, as far as she was concerned. But it would do for now. Rolling her shoulder, she asked, "Do you have a message for Xander? Or would you like to wait downstairs for him to come home?"

  "Do you even know the kind of man you agreed to marry? Do you know what he’s capable of? The things he's done?"

  "What about the things you’re capable of? I know what you did to him. You being here is inappropriate. You need to go."

  He took a step toward her again and this time, Imani backed up toward the elevator.

  "You think this is fucking inappropriate? Imagine how I felt w
hen he killed my father. And he's walking around free and clear for that. He robbed me of a parent."

  Her anger spiked. "Is that how you see it? What about what your father robbed him of. What you robbed him of?"

  Again, Alistair staggered back.

  "Yeah, that's right, he told me what you did to him. You could have helped him, but you didn't. You could have made all the difference and you might still even have your father alive. But instead of helping a helpless child, you held him down for your sick, psycho of a father. And then you torment him as an adult. You're despicable. You go after his fiancée and you deliberately ruin his world."

  His face contorted with anger and he lunged for her again. With a finger pointed in her face, each word he spoke was punctuated by spittle. "You don’t know anything about my father. He was a great man. Shut your fucking whore mouth."

  Imani squared her shoulders then wiped the spittle off her face. "First of all, say it, don’t spray it. Secondly, I'm not a whore. I'm a woman who recognizes that you need help." Behind her she frantically pressed the call button.

  But this time he didn't back off. "I did Christie a favor when I warned her off. You're just too dumb to see what he is, who he is. Is it his skills in bed you’re so enamored with? Or have those been greatly exaggerated?"

  The next words tumbled out of her mouth before she could remember not to antagonize the crazy man. "Your wife should know, shouldn't she?"

  His hands snapped around her neck so quickly she had no time to react. Immediately the pressure blocked her airflow and she fought back, kicking her legs out as she clawed at his hands, but he was too strong.

  The elevator dinged and when the doors slid open, she stumbled backwards, but didn't fall, instead hitting a wall of muscle. The next thing she knew, Xander had his fist jammed against Alistair’s nose and the older man's hands dropped from her neck immediately, flying to his face to stem the blood flow.

  Xander's movements were so quick Alistair barely had a chance to recover. And Xander was not only quick, he was deadly. Imani slid backwards into the safety of the elevator. As she watched him, she only understood just how deadly he was after he delivered a knee to Alistair’s midsection, then, when the man doubled over, Xander hooked his thumbs into his eye sockets, forcing his head up and exposing his throat. Then he delivered a quick punch directly to the trachea.