by L. P. Dover
Bryce clanked his glass against my fathers. “To the first of many.”
We all tilted our glasses back, and as I drank a sip of my wine, I couldn’t help but notice how happy that declaration made my father. Was an alliance with the Collmans really that important to him? What made that family so different from all the others?
My father smiled over at me. “Let’s eat.”
The soup was still hot, so I scooped up a spoonful, and gently blew on it. My eyes met Bryce’s, but then he focused on his food, as if I bored him. Before I could get the first bite in, my father’s phone rang.
With a heavy sigh, he got up and reached inside his suit to fetch his phone, his face muscles tense. “What is it, Renaldo?”
I ate my spoonful of soup, and it tasted heavenly, as always. I wanted more, but decided to wait on my father to return to the table, just like Dominic and Bryce. Dominic watched our father with curiosity. I had no clue how many business partners our father had, but I recognized Renaldo’s name. He worked in the underground casino below the hotel.
My father came back to the table but didn’t sit. “I’m sorry to do this, but I have a little bit of business I need to take care of downstairs.”
Dominic stood, and so did Bryce. “Do you need my help?” Bryce asked.
Chuckling, my father walked over and patted his shoulder. “Stay here and enjoy dinner. Layla will keep you company.” Mouth gaping, I stared at him like he’d lost his mind. Even Bryce seemed taken aback. My father patted his shoulder again. “Please, sit. I won’t be gone long.”
Bryce’s jaw clenched, but he sat down. I tried not to take it personally, but it was obvious he didn’t want to be alone with me. Hell, I was the one who probably shouldn’t be alone with him. However, there was still a part of me that was intrigued by him.
My father smiled reassuringly at me as he backed away toward the door. “Please help our guest feel welcome, cara mia. Isaiah is just right outside the door if you need him, and Francis is in the kitchen.”
He and Dom rushed out the door, leaving me alone with Bryce. “If you’re uncomfortable with me here, I’ll go,” he said, his voice low and deep.
Was I uncomfortable? Of course I was. I didn’t know Bryce Collman or if he could be trusted. Obviously, my dad seemed comfortable with him, but I didn’t know if I should trust that or not. Bryce started to get up, but I held out my hand.
“No, stay. My father wanted you here for dinner. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”
He sat back down, but I could feel the tension radiating off of him. Maybe my father threatened to cut off a certain appendage if he tried to flirt with me. It was probably why none of his other men were too keen to talk to me. An awkward silence filled the room, at least until my stomach growled. If there was ever a time I hated having to be prim and proper, it was when I was hungry.
“Screw it,” I said, picking up my soup bowl.
Bryce’s eyes shot to mine just as I tilted my bowl back, closing my eyes as the creamy goodness went down my throat. When I opened my eyes, Bryce turned his attention to the soup with a slight tilt to his lips.
I set my bowl down. “If you tell my dad any of this, I’ll kill you myself.”
He chuckled once. “Wow.” Then his eyes met mine again. “You have me scared now, Lemon Drop.”
I was curious to see how he’d react to me, but I wasn’t expecting the sarcasm. I liked it. Most of the men employed by my father would’ve ignored me or nodded in agreement. “Lemon Drop?” I asked. “I’m not sure you know me well enough to be giving me nicknames.”
He shrugged. “It fits.”
I didn’t know whether that was good or bad. A lemon drop was sour and tart, but also sweet. Guess it did fit. “So you do have some personality underneath that hard exterior,” I mused. “I was starting to think you were just like the others.”
Gaze narrowed, he picked up his bowl and finished his soup, keeping his attention solely on me. Certain areas tightened in my body, and it scared me. I didn’t need to have those kinds of feelings for someone employed by my father.
“I can tell you definitively that I’m not,” he said, tone all seriousness as he set his bowl down.
Things were getting more interesting by the second. “I’m surprised you’re even talking to me. Most men who work for my father don’t.”
He snorted. “Let’s get this straight; I don’t work for your father. I’m helping him find your uncle.”
Before I could reply, Francis strolled into the dining room and took our soup bowls away. He came right back in with our entrées: Oscar-style filet mignon, truffle potatoes, and asparagus.
“Thank you, Francis. It all looks amazing.”
Francis glanced over at Bryce, and I was shocked to see a small smile as he nodded in agreement. “I have to agree with Ms. Corsino.”
Francis beamed. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Just let me know when you’re ready for dessert.”
I nodded. “Sounds good. As always, you’re the best.”
Once he was gone, I focused back on Bryce. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Michael since he went missing. “How’s the search going for Michael?”
He cut into his steak and shrugged. “I’m getting there. Hopefully, I’ll be able to pinpoint his location tonight.”
“How can you find him when our own sheriff can’t?” I asked.
Bryce snorted and set down his knife. “Because your sheriff doesn’t have the ability to do what I can do. I can hack into any computer system and get the information I need.”
It seemed a little arrogant, but I decided to play along. “Oh yeah? What about my bank account?” I asked, not fully believing him. “Could you hack into it and steal my money?”
He slowly stabbed a piece of steak with his fork, and smirked as he brought it to his lips. “Sounds like you doubt me, Ms. Corsino.”
Honestly, I didn’t know what to believe. “All I know is that if you can help find Michael, I’d be forever grateful. To think he was taken because of me makes me sick.” Grabbing my glass of wine, I drank every drop. Francis had left the bottle on the table, so I poured the liquid to the top of my glass.
Bryce huffed. “It’s fucked up, is what it is.”
I laughed but there was no humor in it. I guzzled down the wine and could already feel it easing my tension. “If he’s not found before the gala, my father doesn’t want me there. I’m afraid he’ll do something drastic. There was a look in his eyes I’d never seen before.”
He tensed with my words, as if I said something that alarmed him, but then he shrugged it off. “Can you blame him? He’s trying to keep you safe.”
That was all I ever heard. We’re trying to keep you safe. Like I was fragile porcelain doll that had to be kept in a glass case. “Safe? I didn’t ask for any of this,” I said, flourishing my hand about the room. Just the simple movement made my head feel dizzy. Damn wine. “Do you think I like being stuck here under guard?”
Bryce’s gaze narrowed. “What’s there to hate? I’m sure your daddy gives you everything you want, Lemon Drop.”
Snatching the bottle of wine, I glared at him and then walked out of the room. The living room was dark, except for the city lights below shining in through the wall of windows. I looked down at the streets, wishing I could go back in time to when I was free to do what I wanted.
Bryce’s silhouette showed through the window. He was only a few feet behind me, but I refused to turn around, especially not when I couldn’t stop a tear from falling down my cheek. “You might think I’m a spoiled rich girl, but you have no idea what it’s like to be me. There was a time when I had my freedom, when I could be just a normal girl.” Closing my eyes, I took a sip from the bottle and rested my head against the window. “I found out things tonight about my family that I had no clue about. Or maybe I did, and I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.” Angrily, I wiped the tear off my face and faced him. “It scares me.” Bryce stood there, his eyes never once waver
ing from mine. I felt exposed under his stare, like he could see to the very depths of my soul.
“Your father’s going to make sure you’re protected.”
I scoffed. “I don’t need his protection. What I need is to be able to protect myself. If Michael isn’t found before the gala, I’m not going to hide. Whether it’s the Cartwrights or someone else, I’m not going to be auctioned off as a prize. They fucked up, messing with me.”
I turned up the bottle and chugged down the wine. I’d reached my breaking point. A few minutes later, everything around me swirled until I could no longer feel my legs. The next thing I knew, I felt a warm body around me, and then the coldness of the leather couch.
“You’re not at all what I’d thought you’d be,” Bryce said, his voice just above a whisper. I didn’t know if he wanted me to hear that, but I did.
The darkness started to slip in. “Guess I surprised you,” I mumbled. The room started to spin even more. “I think I drank too much.” I thought I felt Bryce’s hand sweep across my cheek, but I had to have imagined it, because there was no way he would’ve touched me like that. Or would he? Before Bryce could leave, I grabbed his arm. He knelt down beside the couch, but I couldn’t focus on his face. “Please don’t tell my dad any of this.”
A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Deal. But you owe me.”
The thought sent shivers down my spine.
Chapter Six
Bryce
Layla impressed me. I thought for sure she’d be a heartless, selfish bitch, especially having a father like Anthony Corsino and being a lawyer. But I was wrong. She had balls, and I liked that.
“Would you like another whiskey before I go, sir?” Francis asked.
Looking down at my empty glass, I shook my head. “No, I’m good.”
He took my glass and put it in the dishwasher with all the others. From time to time, his gaze would avert over to Layla as she slept, and I could see the concern. “How long have you worked for the Corsinos?” I asked him.
He took off his chef’s hat and set it on the counter. “Fifteen years. I have a small house by the Corsino estate that I share with my partner. He travels a lot for work.” His eyes wandered over to Layla again. “I’ve practically watched that girl grow up.” He turned away and grabbed the washcloth out of the sink so he could wipe down the counters. “She took it hard when her mother passed away. There were many nights I stayed over late, and we’d cook her favorite desserts. I could tell she needed someone to talk to. She and her mother were very close.”
I’d lost my mother several years ago to cancer. It was a pain that never went away. I looked over at Layla, sleeping on the couch. I didn’t want to leave her alone, even if Isaiah was just outside the door.
Francis grabbed his bag, and started for the door. “It’s getting late. I think I’m going to head home.”
“It was nice meeting you, Francis,” I called out.
He glanced at me over his shoulder and smiled. “Likewise. I’m sure I’ll see you again.”
Once he was gone, I moved into the living room and sat down in the leather chair across from the couch. There was something about Layla that drew me to her. Maybe it was the fire I could see inside of her. I heard the elevator ding just down the hall, and it wasn’t long before the door opened and Anthony strolled in. His smile disappeared the second he saw Layla asleep on the couch.
“What’s wrong? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine,” I said, stepping in his way. If he woke her up now, he’d definitely know she was drunk. Francis had agreed it was best he didn’t know. “After we ate, she wasn’t feeling well, so she decided to rest on the couch and ended up falling asleep. I didn’t want to leave until you came back.” He’d been gone for two fucking hours.
Anthony sighed and sat down on the armrest of the couch. “Hopefully, you didn’t mind me leaving you Layla,” he said, regarding me curiously, as if he was testing me. What the hell was I supposed to say to that?
“Not at all,” I ended up answering. “But it’s probably time for me to go. I have to find your brother.”
He held out his hand, and stood. “Thank you. Sheriff Moneta and his men haven’t found shit.”
I knew he had the sheriff in his pocket, but it made me wonder how far his reach actually was. From what I could tell, it was pretty extensive. I shook his hand. “I’ll call you as soon as I find out more.”
Anthony followed me to the door. “The gala is the day after tomorrow. With that being said, I need to ask you a favor.” I stopped at the door, and he cleared his throat. “I told Layla that if we don’t find Michael before the gala, I don’t want her going.” Lips pursed, he glanced over at his daughter, still sleeping on the couch. “She can be headstrong and stubborn at times. She’ll insist on going.”
“What do you need from me?”
His eyes met mine. “I want you to come with us and watch over her. Julian Cartwright has been after her for some time now. I don’t want that prick anywhere near my daughter. With the other families knowing who my men are, they won’t believe she’s interested in any of them. But if you…”
He didn’t have to finish his sentence. I already knew what he was going to say, and it was the worst fucking idea I’d ever heard. “You want me to step in,” I stated, looking at him incredulously. When he nodded, I shook my head. “That shit won’t work. You said it yourself— she’s stubborn. From what I can tell, she doesn’t like being told what to do. She’ll never go for it.” I opened the door and huffed. “It’s a bad idea.” Isaiah stepped out of my way, and I walked past him toward the elevator.
“What if she willingly goes along with the plan?” Anthony called out.
I pressed the down button on the wall. With a heavy sigh, I turned my attention to him. He looked desperate, as any father would if their daughter’s life was on the line. “If she agrees, I’ll do whatever she wants.” The elevator door opened, and I stepped in. How could I protect Layla when I needed to figure out a way to kill her father? The elevator doors closed silently behind me. “Fuck,” I groaned, running a hand through my hair. “What the hell am I going to do?”
*
My phone had vibrated with multiple calls from Ian on the way back to my apartment, but I couldn’t answer with Marco in the front seat. It had to be something important for him to call me like that. As soon as we arrived, and Marco sped away, I hurried up to my floor, only to stop dead in my tracks. There was a man leaning against the wall at my door, and I recognized him.
Cadoc Cartwright sized me up and down then smiled. He was the same height as me, but in his late fifties, with slicked-back dark brown hair and brown eyes, wearing gray pants and a gray vest over his white dress shirt. “Bryce Collman. I’ve been waiting to meet you.” He pushed off the wall and held out his hand. “I’m Cadoc Cartwright.”
Anthony warned me that the other families would seek me out. I shook his hand. “I know who you are.”
Cadoc chuckled. “I take that as a compliment. I was wondering if we could go inside and talk?”
Gaze narrowed, I crossed my arms over my chest. “We’re fine right where we are.”
He held up his hands. “I understand. Guess I’ll just get to the point.” His smile faded, but he kept his dark eyes on mine. “When I heard a Collman was in town, I almost didn’t believe it. But then I heard how hard up Corsino is about keeping you in his ranks.”
“I don’t work for him,” I said, cutting him off. “Let’s get that clear.”
Cadoc’s grin came right back. “Glad to hear it. I’d like to offer you a position with me. In exchange for money, that is.” He pulled out a check, and handed it to me. “A lot of money.”
It was twice as much as the check I’d just gotten from Anthony. I didn’t need the money; I had plenty of it on my own. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cartwright,” I said, giving him the check back, “but I’m not job hunting. I don’t plan on sticking around for long.”
Jaw clenching, he shoved the chec
k in his pocket. “I hate to hear that. Is there any way I can change your mind? If we join forces, we could be unstoppable.”
I shook my head. “Like I said, I’m not staying here long.”
Cadoc nodded and held out his card. “If you change your mind, give me a call. I’d love to get acquainted with your family again. Once upon a time they were the most respected family in the city.”
“Yes, they were,” I said, taking his card. He walked past me toward the elevator, and I watched him get inside before turning my back. Cadoc Cartwright was a powerful man, but he wasn’t as evil as Anthony Corsino. Once inside my apartment, I locked the door and leaned against the door as I called Ian.
“It’s about damn time,” he answered, sounding out of breath.
“Kind of hard to when I’m in the car with a Corsino, and then come up to my apartment to see Cadoc fucking Cartwright waiting for me.”
“Holy shit. What’d he want?”
I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “To see if I’d work for him.”
“Damn. You must’ve really made a name for yourself out there.”
The cold liquid felt good going down my throat. “What the fuck ever. I’m ready to be done with this shit.”
“Brace yourself then, brother, because it’s nowhere near over.”
Dread settled into the pit of my stomach. “What’d you find?”
Ian sighed. “Are you at your laptop?”
“Not yet,” I said. I hurried over to my desk and booted up my computer. Once I signed in, there was an email from Ian with over a dozen attachments. “Okay, I’m on. You’ve attached a bunch of pictures.”
“Yep. You’ll see everything you need in them. Reed and I found Michael. We tapped in to one of the government’s satellites and brought up some images. What you’re about to see isn’t good.”
I opened his email, and clicked on the first image; it was a topside view of the black SUV in a field like I was looking down on them. I clicked to the next one which showed the two men getting out. I kept clicking until the image appeared with them pulling a body out of the back. The last picture was of the body, alone in the field.