By Invitation Only- The Series

by Zane Michaelson

  He appeared concerned. “No, foul mouth. I won’t. You’ve hurt yourself.”

  “I can look after myself and don’t need you.”

  “Shut up, just for a moment, while I think what to do.”

  I cried out as he touched my foot. “Jesus Christ. Are you crazy? Don’t touch it!”

  “Sorry, but I think you’ve broken it.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.”

  He had a bemused expression on his face.

  You dare laugh at me, Zander, and I’ll take you out with the other foot.

  “Just call an ambulance and let me get out of here.”

  “You’re in France, remember?”

  “So what? Don’t they have paramedics, or ambulances here?”

  “Yes, but…”

  I wasn’t in the mood to listen to him pretend to be the fount of all knowledge. “If you can’t get me an ambulance, call your pilot and have him fly me home. I want to go home.” Tears ran down my cheeks.

  “Jensen will drive us to the nearest private hospital.”

  I saw red at the mention of his name. “Your brother won’t be driving me anywhere.”

  “Yes, he will.”

  “You’re both sick, d’you know that?”

  “I did nothing wrong, Cammie.” He was matter of fact about it. “Don’t take the guilt you’re feeling out on me.”

  I fucking hate you. “What’s with that anyway? You’re a billionaire and your own brother is working for you?”

  “Jensen is as wealthy as I am, on paper at least, but won’t inherit his share of the family fortune until he reaches a certain age.”

  Why did I even ask? I don’t care. “I don’t wanna hear anymore–call me a taxi and I’ll get myself to a hospital.”

  “I’m coming with you,” he said, bending down and sweeping me into his arms.

  “Put me down,” I said, ready to swing for him.

  “Shut up, you stupid, annoying, woman.”

  I was in too much pain to argue. He carried me out of the room and down the staircase.

  “WOMAN,” I roared. “We’re not in the middle ages…Mind my foot,” I screamed.

  “Do you know you’re a big baby?” He was teasing me, but didn’t realise, broken foot, or not, I’d end him if he carried on.

  I wanted to knock his head off his shoulders. “And you’re a lying piece of shit.”

  “I didn’t lie to you, Camilla.”

  “You weren’t exactly forthcoming with the truth, either of you. And it’s CAMMIE,” I roared, my foot throbbing.

  “It’s not important who Jensen is–after all, do I need to know anything about your family?”

  “It’s not the same, and you know it.”

  He changed the subject. “Your foot is turning blue.”

  I screamed at him. “Stop looking at it, you’re making it hurt even more.”

  Zander grinned.

  I knew I was behaving like a child.

  “Jensen,” Zander yelled. “Get the car ready. We need to go to the hospital.”

  He rushed up the stairs and into the room. “What have you done, Cammie?”

  “Miss Childs to you.” I knew I was being facetious, but I felt such a fool. Falling for two brothers at the same time. I should have known. Looking at them now, the resemblance wasn’t glaringly obvious, but it was there, mainly around the eyes.

  “Very well, Miss Childs,” he replied, a hint of sarcasm present. “I’ll go and get the car.”

  “Hurry up, Jensen.”

  “Don’t rush on my account,” I shouted. “And you can put me down, Alexander.”

  I saw the anger, fleetingly. He did as I asked and settled me down gently on the Chaise Longue, propping my throbbing foot and leg up using a very expensive cushion.

  “You really are milking this, aren’t you?”

  “Milk this,” I hissed, sticking two fingers up at him.

  “So ladylike.”

  I was not in the mood to be spoken down to. “One more word from you, Zander Shaw, and I’ll kick you so hard between the legs, your nuts will be lodged in your nostrils.”

  He roared laughing, and the pain intensified. “This is the reason I fell in love with you.”

  “Stop laughing at me.” I burst into tears, burying my head in my hands. He loved me?

  “Cammie, don’t cry,” he said. “I hate to see you cry.”

  Such tenderness, but why now? “Like you haven’t been the cause of it.”

  “I used to watch my mother cry every night. She was so unhappy.”

  I looked up, and through my own tears, could see his sadness. “Really?”

  “She never knew I was aware of her unhappiness, but I was, and seeing you so sad, brings it all back to me.”

  This was a side of Zander Shaw I never dreamed existed.

  I opened my mouth to speak as Jensen rushed back in.

  “The car’s out front, and I’ve called the hospital to let them know we’re on the way.”

  “Good,” Zander said. He lifted me from the sofa. The pain was getting worse. “Jensen. Grab those two cushions.”

  “It hurts,” I sobbed.

  “Twenty minutes and we’ll have you on the road to recovery.” Zander carried me down the stone steps outside the villa and eased me into the back seat on the waiting car.

  “She will feel much better lying down while you ride in the front with me,” Jensen suggested.

  “Okay,” Zander agreed.

  Once the door was closed, I rested my head on the cushion. My foot was already resting on the other one.

  Zander slid into the passenger seat. “Drive carefully,” he ordered.

  “Don’t give me orders.” Jensen sounded tense. “I don’t work for you any longer, remember?”

  “Shut up and drive.”

  The two of them were getting on my already frayed nerves. “Stop bitching, the two of you, and get me to a hospital.”

  They exchanged furtive glances at one another.

  Jensen drove carefully, and I relished the silence, the throbbing in my foot easing gently.

  The narrow roads and the sheer drops to the right of us made me nervous, so I closed my eyes, praying the journey was quick.

  I could feel my breathing settle.

  “Why did you do it?” Zander asked.

  He must have thought I’d drifted off to sleep.

  “I didn’t set out to seduce your girlfriend–it just happened.”

  “She should have been off limits. You’re my brother.”

  “Only when it suits you,” Jensen added with an accusatory tone.

  “Rubbish.” Zander raised his voice.

  “When have you ever really wanted me around?”

  “I didn’t not want you around, Jensen, but after losing mother and father, it was too hard playing the big brother.”

  “So, you shunted me off so you wouldn’t have to deal with me.”

  “We’re like chalk and cheese–always have been.”

  “Not so different that we don’t want to fuck the same woman.”

  My eyes darted open at the turn in conversation.

  I made to sit up as Zander’s fist connected with the side of Jensen’s face.

  “No,” I cried.

  It all happened in slow motion.

  Jensen smacked his head against the side window and the car careered to the other side of the road, tires screeching.

  I screamed, terrified I was about to die, but in the hubbub of screeching tires, I could see Jensen trying, yet failing miserably to regain control of the car.

  Zander turned in his seat, a look of terror and remorse on his face.

  I reached out and he thrust his hand forward for me to grab a hold of.

  He thought we were going to die. I could see it in his eyes.

  “Zander,” I shouted, panic stricken.

  “I love you, Cammie,” he said, over the roar of the engine.

  Suddenly, Jensen yelled, his hands flying up to cover his face,
as a light came hurtling toward us.

  He pulled at the steering wheel.

  I screamed as our car crashed through the bollards, hurtling down a ravine.

  The car screeched to a halt and the female driver jumped out, rushing to the edge of the ravine.

  “Merde.” She cursed, pulling out her mobile phone and dialling 112.

  The operator answered.

  “Emergency Services. May I take your name?”

  “My name is Marie-Claudette.”

  “What is the nature of the emergency, Marie-Claudette?”

  “There’s been an accident.”

  “What kind of accident, and where?”

  “A car has crashed through the barrier near to the bottom of the old mountain road. It was swerving before the crash, like the driver had lost control.”

  “Are there any survivors you are aware of?”

  “I don’t think so.” Marie-Claudette squinted into the darkened ravine. “I can see two bodies lying close to the vehicle. They look in pretty bad shape and the car is wrecked. I can smell petrol. I don’t know if anybody else is in the car. You have to hurry!”

  “Okay, stay as far back as possible. Emergency services are on their way.”

  Jensen

  Prologue

  Caressa Delacourt knelt at the graveside.

  HERE LIES

  SABINE FABRE

  BELOVED DAUGHTER & SISTER

  GONE TOO SOON

  BUT FOREVER IN OUR HEARTS

  “Oh, my darling. I miss you so much!” Tears left streaks in her flawlessly made up face. Even though the years had passed, the loss was almost too much to bear at times.

  Arnaud stepped forward. He’d been watching from the shadows, concealed by a large maple tree. “Caressa, I really must object–if you are seen here, it will lead to questions we do not want to answer.”

  She turned to face Arnaud and snapped, “Who said I don’t want those questions answered?”

  “You don’t have the evidence you need to tie Alexander to Sabine’s death, yet.”

  “Then stop with the incessant warnings and prophecies of doom and help me find it.”

  “What do you think I’ve been doing all these years?” he snapped. “Your son covered his tracks well.”

  “My son is a murderer,” she spat, her anger still lurking just beneath the surface. It hurt to think her own child could have turned against her in such a vindictive manner, but Zander was fiercely protective of his father and wouldn’t have taken her infidelity well. Even as a young adult, he’d had his father’s ruthlessness and often vicious streak, his ambitions to take over Shaw International evident from an early age.

  As a young adult, the family name was all important–it had been bred into him. It would have been too easy for him to dispense of the competition, if only to protect his father’s reputation.

  She’d spent years wondering why her child had ordered her death, alongside the others who perished that day.

  Arnaud stepped closer to the grave. “Alexander had my daughter murdered, in cold blood, like she meant nothing.” He placed a kiss on both fingers and touched the grave stone. “Mon Amour.”

  Caressa looked up at him. She could see how stricken he felt being this close to his beloved daughter’s final resting place. “You’re right, Arnaud. We should go.”

  She held out a hand, allowing Arnaud to help her to her feet then walked away without glancing backwards.

  Arnaud caught up to her.

  “My daughter loved you and you should never forget that.”

  “Your daughter lies in her grave because of me.”

  “That may be so, but I remember how she felt for you, how her face lit up when she told me how happy she was, that she had met the woman of her dreams, and was going to live happily ever after. Sabine wouldn’t want you lying in the grave beside her.”

  “Did you know back then she was talking about me specifically?”

  “I confess, Sabine never mentioned the woman she was in love with was the Alyssa Shaw.”

  “And if she had mentioned me by name?”

  “I’d have warned her how dangerous your husband was, and that she should tread very carefully.”

  “It wasn’t my husband Sabine needed to be fearful of, but my son, Alexander.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Caressa Delacourt, or Alyssa Shaw as she was once known, had spent years hiding away on the quiet side of the Spanish island of Ibiza.

  Her best friend, Olivia, had come to the rescue when she needed it most. She played the part well, even attending the memorial service, offering condolences to the family while pretending to be grief stricken by her own loss.

  It had worked. Nobody had ever questioned the death of Alyssa Shaw, and nobody would until she was ready to reveal herself to the world once more.

  For two years after the attempted assassination, Alyssa had withdrawn into herself, too scared to leave the confines of the villa in case she was seen.

  Eventually, knowing she required inside information, she hired a beautiful young woman named Charlotte to infiltrate Alexander’s life, and for a while her plan worked perfectly. Alyssa knew both of her children’s movements. They had no idea she was alive and in hiding.

  For months, she received intelligence, but abruptly, all contact ceased, and Charlotte was never seen or heard from again.

  She’d never forgiven herself for throwing that poor girl into the lion’s den and prayed, whatever had happened to her, she didn’t suffer. But, knowing how her son worked, any betrayal would be met swiftly and brutally. Charlotte wouldn’t have stood a chance.

  Alyssa thought back to the day her own life was turned upside down and could only surmise what had caused it.

  A few years had passed, but she had managed to track down the driver of the jet ski that had struck the three of them that fateful day.

  It had cost her a lot of money, but eventually he admitted he’d been paid to drive the jet ski into her companions, Gregor and Sabine. Why not her? Because she would be expected to return to the family and toe the line.

  Eventually, she was led to believe her husband wasn’t the one who had discovered her infidelity, but her son, Alexander. Had her husband known, pride would have dictated he confront her. His rage would have been unparalleled.

  No, it was her eldest son who had discovered her affair, but he’d wrongly believed she was sleeping with Gregor, an old family friend.

  In fact, she’d been in a secret relationship with Sabine, her personal assistant for over two years. They were madly in love and planning to escape so they could live their lives together.

  It wasn’t meant to be.

  Gregor and Sabine’s deaths still haunted her to this day.

  She could still picture Sabine floating face down in the water, the opal coloured water around her turning red as blood poured from where her head had been caved in from the impact.

  Gregor’s body also floated face down in the water.

  Both had been killed instantly.

  Sabine had done nothing to warrant such a vicious death. She was gentle and kind, a light in her life, but paid for loving Alyssa with her own life.

  It seemed Alexander had wanted Gregor out of the way, believing she would be forced to stay with his father.

  His plan had failed.

  That day, her old life ceased to be.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  It has been two months since the car crash.

  I’d been lucky.

  Well, luckier than either Zander or Jensen.

  I’d escaped relatively unscathed, apart from a broken arm and the foot of course, although I’d done that prior to the car accident, in a fit of temper.

  Quite ironic that on the way to the hospital, the car I’m travelling in goes over the edge of a ravine.

  I don’t remember much, apart from Zander and Jensen’s argument. It had been my fault and, reliving the moment again and again, I wished I could turn back the clock and
do things differently.

  The terror I felt when the car careened down the ravine was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

  I lost consciousness. For how long, I wasn’t sure, but when I came to, we were surrounded by the emergency services.

  Despite everything, I was lucid and knew what was going on around me.

  “Are you okay, Madame?”

  “Yes,” I croaked. “Get me out of here.” I could smell fuel and was terrified the car would explode while I was inside.

  Pulled out of the car, and held up by two firemen, I looked on in horror at the carnage.

  I could hear a noise in the background but couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

  Zander and Jensen lay lifeless in front of the car, captured in the beam of the headlights.

  They looked like puppets with broken strings, lying still at unnatural angles.

  There was so much blood.

  Paramedics worked hard on them and conversed in French. I understood little.

  I could clearly see them trying to revive Zander, and wanted to scream at them, don’t let him die, but I couldn’t. I stared like I was in some kind of trance unable to say or do anything.

  “Nothing,” one of the paramedics said.

  “Again,” another said.

  I watched as the paramedic rubbed the paddles together and tried to restart his heart.

  “Nothing. No output whatsoever.”

  Jensen was lifted onto a stretcher and taken away.

  It was only when I turned to look the noise made sense.

  A helicopter was on standby.

  “Wait!” I protested. “What about Zander?”

  My question was ignored.

  I watched as Jensen’s stretcher was carefully placed in the helicopter. Moments later, it lifted off, carrying him to what I assumed would be the nearest hospital.

  “What about Zander?” I looked over to him and caught the glance between the two paramedics working on him.

  “Do not worry, Madame. Another chopper is close by.”

  Just then, another helicopter hovered close and came in to land.