by Lan LLP
__________
This old man’s tone is so dry and monotonous to me. I’m not sure if I’ve even heard a word he’s said. My mind keeps drifting away thinking senseless thoughts. I don’t understand why, but ever since I’ve been back in the States, I’ve had an unquenchable thirst for bourbon. I don’t even like that shit. My usual preference is vodka or whiskey. I’ve also had several weird dreams about gathering pink flowers. What the fuck does that mean?
“Mr. Montgomery, those investors are looking to withdraw their investments unless we show some turnaround profits really soon,” he alerts, grabbing my roaming brain.
“No problem, I’ve got it taken care of,” I confirm.
Bridgette was able to convince Marcus Ly to buy stocks into my company while it’s at its all-time low. This is the cash I need to get NeoMed back onto its feet again. The attorney is pleased to hear I have a solution. He exits my office with a satisfied grin, and I can’t be any happier to be rid of him. Finally, the last meeting is completed.
I find it’s odd that I was rushed back to Boston for a business crisis and my father has yet to mention anything about it. He called last night to invite me to dinner at the Montgomery mansion for 7:00 p.m. tonight. I wonder if he’ll fill me in then. Looking down at my watch, I see it’s already 5:46 p.m. I need to get going. It’s acceptable for people to wait on my father, but he waits for no one.
The drive to the hidden twenty-acre estate is a long one. The mansion is so massive that there are many quarters of it I’ve never even seen. I remember being creeped out as a kid whenever we would drive down the lengthy path of weeping willow trees to get to the house. I’d imagined the branches would snake over to the car and grab me. It’s a good thing my imagination isn’t as wild anymore. After about an hour and a half, I finally see the colossal mansion at the end of the path. I drive my dark silver Bugatti into the garage designated for me even though it’s my parent’s home.
My father greets me at the door while Mimi is nowhere to be seen, but I’m okay with that. It’s never a warm reception for us anyways. “Hi, Wes, how did the last meeting go?”
“Fine, Dad. NeoMed will bounce back on its feet in no time,” I assure him. His attorneys are really earning their keeps this month digging me out of that hell hole I threw myself in.
“Good to hear that, Wes. I have every confidence in you,” he tells me proudly.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Your mother is visiting your Aunt Georgia. So it’s just you and me for dinner this evening,” my father informs me, creating a lame excuse for Mimi.
“Sounds like a good time to me,” I reply in a delighted tone.
“Now, there’s a different matter I need your help with, Wes,” he explains.
“What is it, Dad? What do you need from me?” I offer. There isn’t anything in the world I wouldn’t do for my father if he’d ask me. I love him just like he’s my biological father, and he reciprocates this same kind of love to me. I believe our strengthened relationship over the years has weakened his and Mimi’s. This is my guess for why she continues to dislike me more and more each year that passes. My father regards my opinions over Mimi’s and this aggravates her more than anything.
“Come with me and I’ll show you.” He places his arm around my shoulders to lead me to an elevator I’ve never been in. It takes us down to a basement several floors down. This part of the house is foreign to me. As I acquaint myself with my new surroundings, I keep imagining I’m standing inside a metal submarine capsule. There are two fully stocked laboratories with about a dozen people in white lab jackets working diligently. Dad leads me further down a wide hallway to an area he calls confinement pods. There are a total of six pods, or rooms. He presses his palm against a detection pad located on the left side of a grey wall and a metal door slides open to one of the pods. We step inside and immediately, an eerie sensation hits me and shoots up and down my spine. It’s stark white and the circular wall is padded like a mental hospital room. I see two men with discouraged expressions on their faces sitting against a wall opposite the entrance. Their frightful eyes dart in my direction with hope.
“Dad, what is this room, and who are these two men?” I inquire with concern.
Shit, what the fuck did my father get himself into?
“They’re Bradley’s researchers. They hold two-fifths of the recipe for the greatest orthopedic drug to be created,” he excitedly reveals. “This drug will revolutionize how we treat any form of bone injuries or ailments. The most impressive thing about this drug is it’s non-invasive—no more surgeries. All one has to do for treatment is to simply swallow a few small white pills for several months.”
“Why are Bradley’s researchers being confined in this room?” I inquire almost inaudibly even though I have a good guess of what the answer will be.
“I’m hoping they’ll volunteer some information soon. So far, they’ve been stubbornly tight-lipped, and I’m starting to lose my patience with them,” he gripes the words out as he narrows his warning eyes at them. Just from appearances, my father may not seem intimidating to most people. He’s about five-foot-ten; skinny with sharp blue eyes, dark salt-and-pepper hair and thin lines for lips. But after one interaction with him, there’s just fear and respect to be had. I personally would never consider double-crossing my father after witnessing several unpleasant instances in the past.
“Dad, how did we get so desperate? Kidnapping innocent people?” I ask in disbelief as trepidation creeps into my mind.
“Son, you can’t fathom how valuable this drug is. It’s more valuable than its weight in gold or precious diamonds. If we can be the first to get our hands on this treasure, the Montgomerys’ wealth will be boundless for centuries.” The greedy expression on his face is almost appalling to me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my father in this dark light before today.
“How do I fit in all of this?” I ask as my gut tells me that once I travel down this dead end, there’s no heading back if I change my mind. I honestly don’t want to take this path.
“First, let’s go upstairs for drinks and then we’ll discuss it over dinner,” Dad suggests.
Lillian Ly
After I purposely hang up on Carson for using his CEO tone and attitude with me, I walk over to Andrew to ask him to promise me he won’t tell a soul about what I just confided in him.
“Of course, I swear on my sweet grand pappy’s life that I’ll never tell your secret,” he vows.
“Thanks, Andrew. I knew I can trust you with all my heart,” I tell him with a hug.
“Lil, what should we call you?” Andrew asks with a sly grin.
“When Carson asked me this question last night, I told him Lucy. It was the first name that popped into my head since I had just watched 50 First Dates,” I expound.
“No way! I love that movie!” he exclaims. “Okay, whenever we’re in public, I’ll call you Lucy.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I agree.
“Lil, I better get back to my place. Stewie will be home from his business meeting soon, and I usually like to have dinner ready for my man.” He winks and says, “And you should too. It’s important to cater to your man’s every need.” I especially like how he exaggerated the words every need.
I chuckle at his allusion. “Hey, Andrew, can I ask you something about Stewart?”
“Sure. Ask away, sweetie.” he offers.
“Do you know why he doesn’t like Carson? Stewart never seems happy whenever he’s around him,” I pry.
“Owen was the V.P. at CureAll Oncology where Stewie was a chief resident at that time. He supported Stewie’s decision of being honest about his homosexuality. Owen told him he’d watch out for him and that he would never allow anyone to hurt Stewie’s professional career because of his gay background. Unfortunately, shortly after Stewie gathered enough courage to tell everyone, Owen resigned to work for Bradley Pharmaceutical Corporation. Needless to say, Stewart had a very rough residency to follow.”
“Oh no, it was a terrible coincidence. I’m positive Carson didn’t intentionally hire Owen to hurt Stewart. You have to explain that to him, Andrew,” I plead.
“When everything settles down, we’ll have dinner to iron out this entire misunderstanding,” Andrew suggests and squeezes me before heading for the door. “I’ll come see you tomorrow, cutie, if it’ll be okay with Luke and Carson,” he teases before exiting.
“You better,” I tell him and then wave good-bye.
The second the front door closes, the secret pantry door opens with a heated Carson pacing directly toward me. Freak! He looks angry—really angry. “Lil, I’ve never been this furious!” he yells with glaring eyes. “First of all, don’t ever hang up on me again! Cutting off communication doesn’t resolve anything,” he huffs. “And it pisses me off! I have my reasons, and you don’t have to understand them all. You just need to trust me,” he asserts. I watch his breathing hasten as his temper elevates. This is probably the most intimidating I’ve ever seen him be with me.
Taking in a strengthening breath, I retort, “I don’t like your tone with me. You can talk to your employees like that, but I’m your fiancée. We love and respect each other.” The adrenaline kicks in, making my heart go into overdrive while my clenched fists tremble by my sides.
Immediately, I see his heat dissipate and a different kind of warmth materializes. Bracing his neck with his hand and releasing a heavy sigh, he tells me, “You’re right, Angel. I do love and respect you. This is why I’m being unreasonable,” he justifies. “I’ve told you this at least a hundred times already. I can’t lose you. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you out of harm’s way.”
“I get it, but you need to stop smothering me. I’m suffocating,” I tell him. “Am I in some kind of danger? Why do they want your researchers? What are they really after?” I demand. “I have the right to know. Please talk to me, Carson,” I plead.
Reaching for my hands, he explains, “Lil, I don’t have answers for you, not yet. I honestly don’t know what they’re after. I’m an analyst and a researcher. I study all the angles and make the appropriate decisions based on my speculations and gut instincts. My instinct is to keep you safe.” His expression is impossible to read. I can’t determine if he’s telling me the truth or lying.
“Carson, that’s not an answer. You just gave me a crapfinity! It’s a nonsense explanation without an answer,” I point out. He looks at me and laughs hysterically.
“Lil, you’re a genius at coming up with the oddest coined words and phrases, but I love them all just like I love you.” He leans into my lips and kisses me. “There’s nothing about you that I don’t love—even your constant stubbornness.”
Pulling slightly away from him so my narrowing eyes locate his, I warn, “Don’t think for one minute that you’re off the hook, Mr. Bradley. I’ll pry and ask until I break you. I’ll get my answers one way or another.” A cheeky grin develops and spreads slowly across my face.
“I don’t doubt anything about you, Lil—not even for one minute,” he replies with a mischievous dimpled smile.
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After a delicious carry-out dinner from Marietta Italian Trattoria, Carson’s favorite restaurant, we fill his stone tub with hot steamy water and soak in it with a chilled glass of white wine. This will be his second time using it. Carson sits astride as I rest my back against his chest. Reaching into the ice bucket for a cube, he takes one and traces it along my neck and then nips the cool path with his warm lips. The mixture of ice and heat is sensually irresistible. With his free hand, he kneads, caresses my breast and then moves down to my sex.
“Uh…,” I gasp softly.
Carson left me so needy this morning that I crave his hands on me—all over me. My panting elicits life into his fingers to rub and arouse my clit. At the same time, I grip his hard erection in my fist and stroke it firmly up and down.
“Uh…,” he groans as I increase my stroking pace. “I want to be inside you so fucking badly,” he murmurs before gently biting down on my neck. I’m not normally a fan of pain, but this stinging sensation is intensely sexy to me.
“Carson, uh…uh…,” I groan and then come apart under his skillful fingers as he erupts between mine. After we both descend from our highs, my body feels wilted and relaxed. I don’t think I can move a single muscle. He flips the plug to drain the tub and lifts me out with him.
We complete our hygiene routine and then race to bed and lay in each other’s arms. Carson sweeps my long hair aside to expose the crook of my neck. Deeply, he inhales my fresh bathed scent before sealing his lips over my sensitive skin.
“Lil, I want to take you on a trip with me,” he whispers.
Excited, I ask him, “Where are we going?”
“Hong Kong,” he replies casually.
That’s not the answer I expected. I turn my head to look him in the eyes and yelp, “What! Hong Kong? That’s in China—another continent!” My excitement turns glum. I honestly thought he was going to tell me we’re going to Indiana.
“I have an important meeting that Owen can’t step in for me. Besides, it’ll be a fun field trip for you to get out of the penthouse,” he attempts to persuade me.
“I’ve been to Hong Kong once when I was about four. My mom took me there to see my grandmother. I can’t remember a thing about it except for the long plane trip and how scared I was being up so high,” I tell him disapprovingly.
“Your grandmother lives in Hong Kong? Do you know where?” he asks. “Maybe we can visit her while we’re there,” Carson suggests.
“I don’t have the slightest clue. My mom and I haven’t had any contact with her since then,” I tell him. “Do I really have to go? Luke can keep an eye on me here while you’re away,” I suggest. I don’t want to leave Boston. Belle and I have some wedding and baby surprises to plan for Emma.
“Yes, you have to go. I want you with or near me at all times whenever possible. No more debates. All is handled. We’ll be flying out early tomorrow morning, so get some shut-eye, Angel.”
“Why is it okay for me to leave the country, but not okay for me to go to Emma’s wedding?” I inquire with a spurring attitude.
“Must we go down this redundant path again?” he asks in an annoyed pitch. “First of all, you’ll be kept hidden and under disguise most of the time when we’re in Hong Kong. No one will be able to recognize you,” he explains. “But it’ll be different with your friends and family back home. No matter how much we alter your appearance, they won’t be easily fooled. This is why I don’t want you traveling to Indiana.”
“My friends won’t tell anyone,” I defend.
“Can you really keep everyone quiet, Lil? People love to gossip.”
I tell him, “Probably not. Night,” with a surrendering sigh.
“Sweet dreams, baby. It’s not a definite ‘no’ to the wedding yet, so no more fretting,” he comforts me with a kiss to my temple.
With his arms coiled around my body, Carson falls asleep shortly after he bids me sweet dreams while I lie here wide awake. Why is he taking me to China of all places? My mind is unsettled as I become more paranoid like Carson.
Chapter 8
Carson Bradley
To hasten our long trip to Hong Kong, Owen chartered the Gulfstream G650 jet with Captain Franco at the controls. It’s luxury flying at its best. Most typical women would enjoy an opportunity like this and take full advantage of the superior service and accommodation, but not my Lily. She sits in her cream colored leather chair with a bag of Twizzlers and generic ear buds, listening to her music and reading a histology book she borrowed from my library.
On my media player, I have Cantonese speaking through my earphones. I haven’t had much practice and thought a review would benefit my meeting with Marcus Ly. I did some research on his background at the office yesterday. From my years of experience in business, I’ve learned you never walk into a meeting unprepared. It’s downright foolish not to have an advantag
e over your opponent.
Mr. Ly has no sons and three daughters, one of which is deceased. I believe her name was Lia. She was his youngest. Lia died with her husband, Collin Montgomery, in a private plane crash about twenty-two years ago. Collin was also the late Charles Montgomery’s son. When I discovered this connection, I was baffled. Why would Marcus give David Phong, a man who works for me, the secret ingredient to a bone healing product instead of the Montgomerys, an extension of his family by marriage? The more I thought about it last night, the more I questioned the oddity of it. Marcus also has six grandchildren, but one in particular is his favorite—Bridgette. She is the CEO of one of his ten monstrous companies. Bridgette will be my backup plan if Marcus refuses to handover the secret element. I’m hoping to persuade her with my charm over dinner.
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Captain Franco completes a smooth landing as usual at a private tarmac for business jets, but it doesn’t lessen Lil’s fear of heights. I believe her accident has sealed that phobia into her head for good. All I can do is wrap my arms securely around her as she panics. I hate myself. I’m starting to believe I’m no good for her. I’ve contributed nothing to her world but tears, heartache and now, more fear.
Before we exit, I furnish her with a black suit and pumps. She wobbles out of our private cabin in her heels, dark-framed glasses and a loose ponytail.
Hot damn, she’s sexy!
The last time I saw her in a suit; I couldn’t let her leave my office without fucking her on my desk. It was mind-blowing, and I loved every minute of it.
You can repeat the same seduction right now on the desk in the office in the back of the jet.
Lil spots my contemplative look and waves her index finger like a windshield wiper, shaking her head to indicate “no way.” Disregarding her warning, I pull her into my arms anyway to help myself to her delicious mouth.