Chase: A Secret Millionaire Romance Novel

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Chase: A Secret Millionaire Romance Novel Page 19

by Violette Paradis


  “But son, you could have everything—fame, fortune, a spot on the executive board of Chase Enterprises…”

  I shake my head. “That’s not what I want.”

  Victor tenses his jaw. “Fine.”

  He pulls away across the lawn.

  “Wait,” I say running after him.

  He stops and looks up at me.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “What is it?”

  I clear my throat. “Did you ever love Mom?”

  Victor furrows his brow. “What?”

  “Did you love my mom? Or was your relationship just for show, like Sophie and me?”

  His expression softens. “Of course, it wasn’t. I loved her. I loved her more than I loved anyone or anything.”

  “You did?”

  He nods. “We just grew apart over the years. She was always traveling for work and so was I. Trust me, we tried everything we could to stay together.”

  He sighs. There’s a sad look in his eyes… a look that I’ve never seen before.

  “I’m sorry, son,” he says. “I’m sorry we were both so busy.”

  Tensing my jaw, I look away.

  “I know losing your mother was tough on you.”

  I look back at him. “I miss her. Don’t you miss her?”

  He hesitates at first, then nods.

  “She was always such a force.” He smiles and laughs to himself. “There was nothing she didn’t want to try or do. She sure loved meeting new people. She made everyone around her happy just by being there.”

  I smirk as I think back to differnet memories of her—the walks through the Morroccan vegetable market, the search for a perfect meal in Singapore, and the post-hockey slice of pepperoni at the hole-in-the-wall pizzera. Even though we could afford to eat at any pizza place in New York City, she said that place was her favorite. Jake, the guy behind the counter, treated her like an old friend.

  “Listen, I’m sorry I’ve been so tough on you.” He sighs. “I guess I forgot how good things were back then. After the divorce, I was full of regret. I focused on work to distract myself from the pain. I thought, if I chose work over keeping the family together, then I wouldn’t take any half-measures. I guess I went too far.”

  Hesitantly, I nod. “Yeah. Maybe you did.”

  “I guess I thought helping you with that situation would have helped.” He gestures toward the driveway and the car where Sophie is waiting.

  “It’s… whatever. It’s over now.” I look up at him. “Hopefully.”

  He gives a half-nod. “We’ll figure something out.”

  “No,” I say.

  His eyes widen. “But you must do something. I’m not going to let you live off my money without contributing.”

  I put up my hand. “I have my own plan.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “You have a plan?”

  “A plan for a business.”

  “Interesting. Why don’t we get in the car and you can tell me the details.”

  I smirk. “Sure.”

  Before we make our way toward the driveway, he stops me.

  “I just want to tell you, I’m proud that you’re stubborn when it comes to sticking to what you believe in. That’s what I was like when I was your age, and that’s what got me to the top.”

  “Um, thanks.” I laugh.

  “What?”

  “Well, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”

  He smirks amusedly. “Well, if it means anything to you—it’s the trait your mom loved most about me. I know she’d be proud that you’re doing the same thing.”

  A strange emotion grips my chest. “Thanks… Dad.”

  We stand there for a moment as the cool post-rain wind blows through the trees.

  “Well, I should get back to the car. We’ll wait for you to gather your stuff.”

  I nod. “Sure.”

  Making my way back to the house, I see Marigold standing in the doorway. She’s got a purple knit shawl wrapped around her shoulders.

  “Not the morning you expected?” She asks.

  I laugh. “Not at all.”

  “Everything alright with your father?”

  I half-shrug. “Things are warming up.”

  I realize that there’s no more tension in my chest.

  “Are you going to chase after Amber?”

  “Oh, absolutely.”

  She smiles. “Good. Well then, I guess this is goodbye.”

  “For now,” I say. “Thank you so much for everything.”

  “Anytime. Remember, you can come back any time you want. After all, we’re family.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Besides, my crown moulding might need some replacing.”

  I laugh.

  “I can do that.” I look at Rita standing behind her. “Bye, Rita.”

  She looks at me with an annoyed expression but she can’t hold it for too long. Rushing over, she hugs me with a tight squeeze.

  “I’ll miss you.”

  “You mean, you’ll miss torturing me?”

  She looks up at me and shrugs.

  I smirk. “I’ll see you again. Maybe a visit out to the city is in order.”

  Marigold smirks. “Depends what moon it is.”

  I laugh. “See you ladies later.”

  “Good luck, Gabe.”

  Heading to the shed, I grab my things and make my way to my father’s luxury car. Not knowing what will happen from here on out, I take a deep breath before getting in.

  25

  ON THE ROAD

  Amber

  After two and a half hours on the road, the motorcycle sputters to a stop. At first, I think the fuel tank is empty, but upon further inspection, there is no fuel tank.

  “Electric? Damn. How the hell am I supposed to bring energy out here?” I exhale.

  Climbing off, I leave the bike on the side of the road and continue walking with my bag over one shoulder and my broken guitar over the other. I saw a few cars while I was on the motorcycle, so I know there’s hope. As long as I continue down this road, I’ll find my way to New York City.

  As I walk, sweat starts to drip down my back as the sun rises higher in the sky. The silence of the road is punctuated by the sound of buzzing cicadas and chirping birds. Time blurs by. The temperature climbs until it’s in the hundreds and I’m sweating through my clothes. My blistered feet ache with every torturous step. I hold my hands over my head to protect my face from burning. My stomach aches with hunger and my mouth is as dry as sandpaper. I’m tempted to stop and take a break, but I know that if I don’t make it out of here, I’d become a tasty meal for the bears. All I need is one—just one—person to drive by. They could be in a delivery truck, a family van, even on a skateboard. I don’t care. I just need to get closer to New York. If I don’t find help, I’ll be stuck out here in the middle of nowhere. And worse, I’d miss the cutoff for the festival.

  Keep walking, I tell myself. Just keep walking.

  “When I make it big, I’m flying everywhere,” I mumble.

  As I follow the winding road, I eventually come to a fork. I stop to consider my choice. The sun is directly above and I can’t tell which way is east or west. I have to make a decision. Taking a chance, I pick the smoother-looking road and continue on. With every bend and turn, I hope to see a gas station or a rest stop, but all I see are trees and the road. Nothing else.

  Despite my sore back and the aching in the arches of my feet, I push on. I’m not giving up. Even if everyone else gave up on me, there’s no way I’m giving up on myself.

  My mind goes over the morning’s events. How could Gabe keep so much from me? I feel betrayed on a level I never felt before. This was emotional betrayal. Why didn’t he tell me everything? A part of me understands. But did he ever intend to leave Miss Marigold’s? Was this his plan all along? I readjust my sweaty grip on the neck of the cracked guitar. I know he didn’t mean to sabotage me, but his actions lead to sabotage anyway.

  Unwanted te
ars drip down my cheeks, the saltiness landing on my parched lips. The sun is lowering in the sky and I’m still walking. Walking is a generous word. It’s more like shuffling. But I’m not stopping, and that’s the important part. I’m running out of time and running out of hope but I don’t care.

  Just as I’m about stop for the night, I see something flash in the distance. Lights! A gas station. Even though my feet are cramping, I pick up my pace. I’ve never been so happy to see a dingy, dusty gas station.

  As I make my way inside, I let out a sigh of relief as I feel the air conditioning on my heated skin. I give the attendant a weak smile as I make my way to the fridge and grab a bottle of water. I don’t even wait—I drink it right there in the aisle. Grabbing a few more, along with an energy drink, and an armful of snacks, I finally make my way to the attendant.

  “Did you… walk here?” The young man with a barely-there moustache asks.

  I nod as I finish off the second bottle of water. “Saves on gas.”

  The young man looks concerned for a moment before bagging my many snacks.

  After paying for my items with my Marigold money, I carelessly glance at the magazines. A beautiful brunette woman with a button nose catches my attention. My heart lurches in my chest. It’s Sophie, the woman who broke my guitar. Sophie isn’t just Sophie. She’s Sophie Dawson. I knew she looked familiar. I furrow my brow and glane at the man next to her. Dark hair, dark eyes, dimples. Gabe.

  My heart races in my chest. He’s wearing a tuxedo and his normally wild hair is immaculately placed, but it’s definitely him.

  “Holy shi—” I cover my mouth as I glance at all the magazines. All of them have Gabe and Sophie on the covers, each with a different headline:

  Valentine-Chase Heir to Marry Hollywood Starlet This Weekend

  Wedding of the Century

  What Will Sophie Be Wearing?

  Sophie and her Valentine

  Legendary Valentine Acting Family Grows Larger This Weekend

  I grab a magazine and flip through until I find the article.

  Valentine-Chase Heir to Marry Hollywood Starlet This Weekend

  Gabriel Lawrence Valentine Chase, the famous son of actress Harlow Valentine and CEO Victor Chase, is set to marry actress Sophie Dawson this weekend. The legendary Valentine family has had a history of famous weddings dating back all the way to 1914 when award-winning director Winston Valentine married actress Greta Ludlow. Since then, there have been more than ten history-making weddings among the Valentine family. Sophie Dawson will join other famous thespians who have married into the family, including Barbara Rose Pike, Jane Loretta Bow, Olivia Pearl, Diana Chan, Florence Bell, George Bellini, Spencer Jackson, and Gabriel’s own father—Victor Chase. The marriages have produced many famous actors and actresses of their own including Valerina Valentine, Richard Valentine, Ronnie Valentine, and sisters Harlow and Marigold.

  The next high-profile wedding in the Valentine legacy will be Harlow’s son Gabriel Chase and famous actress Sophie Dawson. Dawson and Chase have dominated headlines since they announced their engagement at the end of last spring, and this wedding will be a big one. If there’s any name bigger than Valentine, it’s Chase. Gabriel is the son of Victor Chase, the CEO of the multi-billion dollar corporation, Chase Enterprises. Although initially dabbling in sports, having played for the Seattle Blades for one season, Gabriel decided to follow in his father’s footsteps instead. And, of course, to focus on his whirlwind romance with Dawson.

  Although marrying into the Valentine family tends to push the newcomer into the spotlight, Sophie Dawson is no stranger to media coverage. Dawson has become a superstar in the last five years, initially appearing in several cheesy teen horro movies. She caught her big break in her critically-acclaimed performance of Annie in ‘The Dove and the Crow’ alongside acting veterans Nina Colefield and Mitch Barker. Dawson has since made her mark on Hollywood with several other high-profile movies like The Termination and Breathwork.

  The wedding takes place this Saturday. Although speculation regarding wedding details has been trending for months, all details have been kept top secret. We’ll just have to wait for the special day!

  I look at the photo of Gabe and Sophie standing together. It looks like they’re at some sort of charity event. They both look like a million dollars. And the way he’s looking at her… I have to flip the page. I don’t know what to process first.

  Engaged?

  My first instinct is to disregard it all. I know Gabe. Right? This is not him. I look at the photo of him staring at Sophie. He’s smiling. There’s a look of admiration on his face. I swallow past the hard lump in my throat.

  Is he really going to follow in his father’s footsteps?

  I scan through the article again.

  “Hey, are you gonna pay for that?” The man behind the counter asks. He’s looking at my sweaty hands. Looking down< I realize my hands are in fists, crumpling the pages.

  “Sorry.” I put the magazine back with the others and grab my stuff.

  Walking outside, I rip open a granola bar and start eating. Adrenaline is starting to rush through my veins. I don’t know what to feel anymore. I know Gabe had a strange life out here in the real world but I wasn’t expecting this. Why didn’t he trust me enough to tell me?

  Maybe because he’s lying about more than you think he is, the little voice in my head whispers.

  Something vibrates in my pocket and I freeze.

  Holy crap.

  Pulling out my phone, my suspicions are confirmed. I’m no longer in the dead zone. My phone has a signal again! It’s only one bar, but at least it’s something.

  Since I haven’t had an internet connection in almost two months, the screen glitches as hundreds of notifications pop up. I have texts and voicemails from Chuck, along with numerous emails from venues about missed gigs. There are so many notifications that my phone freezes.

  “Oh, come on.”

  When I finally get it working again, I scroll through the voice-mails. There are over twenty from Chuck alone.

  “Here we go.” I scroll down to the earliest one. An obnoxious breathing noise bursts into my ear.

  “Yeah, we left you behind. We couldn’t have you on the team anymore, babe—”

  Feeling heat flow through my veins, I push the delete button.

  “I forgot that you handled most of our gigs. Where was tonight’s again?”

  Ugh. Delete.

  “Fuck, Amber. I can’t believe you chose to quit the band like that. How could you abandon us like that? If you just apologize—”

  Delete.

  Chuck’s voice continues to whine in my ear.

  “Aaaammmbbbeeerrrr. I always thought you were hot as fuuuuuck. I might be a bit drunk but I’m going to send you a dick pic—”

  Delete. Delete. Delete.

  I sigh as I look out at the long, empty road. Looking back down at my phone. This is all Chuck’s fault. He’s theoriginal asshole who promised me everything and ditched me in the middle of nowhere.

  Putting away my phone, I look at Ghost. The guitar is clinging to its last thread of life. The sight of it brings back a flood of memories. Running my hand over the splintered wood, I think of all the time Chuck fucked me over, all the times he lied to me. As I trace the large crack zig-zagging down the wood, I think about Gabe having just as many secrets as Chuck did. Placing my fingers on the strings, I pluck them but they’re too loose to make a sound. The instrument is useless.

  What does it matter anyway? Even if I manage to get to the festival, my guitar is broken and so is my heart. All the lies, all the secrets. How did Gabe convince me to fall for him? Why does it have to hurt this bad?

  My breathing is shallow and tears sting my eyes. I can’t handle the reminder of my regrets anymore. Fingers tight around the neck of the guitar, I lift it high into the air before bringing it down hard onto the ground.

  CRACCKKK!

  I smash the guitar once, twice, and a third time. The w
ood splinters and the neck cracks in two. The metal strings get tangled in a wild mess. Sophie may have started it, but I’m finishing the job.

  My hands are shaking. Adrenaline is pumping through my body. Pulling out my phone, I snap a photo of what was once my guitar. With one bar of signal, I manage to upload it to my social media account with the caption ‘Rest in pieces.’

  Knowing Ghost can no longer haunt me, I smile as I plan my route to New York City.

  26

  ROCK STAR VAGABOND

  Amber

  After smashing up the last remnants of that stupid old guitar, I hang out at the gas station until someone drives by and I hitch a ride. Twenty grueling hours, three coffees, and one nasty sunburn later, I finally make it to New York City. I check the time. One hour left until I the cut-off time for checking in at the festival.

  Looking down at myself, I notice that I look like a mess. I stink and I look tired. Heading into a coffee shop, I take a quick hobo shower using the sink in the restroom. I try to ignore the stares from other women as I dab at my armpits with wet toilet paper.

  “Desperate times,” I say.

  The ladies look at each other and leave.

  After combing out my hair and trying to make myself smell halfway decent, I buy another coffee and make my way to the nearest subway station. Drinking my coffee with one hand, I use my other one to pull out my phone and navigate the complicated subway map. I figure out exactly where I need to go and how to get there. Once I’m at the subway station, I place my drink and phone on top of the pay machine, and I buy my ticket. One-way only. Who knows what the hell my life will be like by tonight. I don’t even know where I’ll be sleeping tonight. It doesn’t matter. All that matters are the next few hours. All that matters is playing at the Rock Heart Festival.

  As I’m reaching for my bag to get my money, someone next to me is doing the same thing. A faceless man grabs my bag and begins to run.

  “Hey!” I call out. “Stop that man!”

 

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