by Erika Wilde
As Arabella listened to the man’s words, her stomach twisted into painful knots at the notion that her father was in some kind of financial trouble. And from the sounds of things, he didn’t owe money to a reputable institution, but rather someone who was quickly running out of patience with her father’s inability to pay back the loan.
“I’ve dealt with your father since you were in diapers,” her dad tried to reason, a slight desperation threading his voice. “He’s never had a problem with me requesting a grace period or skipping a payment or two when things are tight.”
“As you well know, my father is no longer running the business. I am, and I’ve been more than lenient with you and your many lapses in payment.”
All business, Vincent unlatched the red rope securing the staircase and glanced from Gavin, who was still standing by her father’s side, back to her dad. “Would you like to discuss this issue with or without Gavin in the room?”
Her father exhaled a breath, his complexion having paled considerably over the past few minutes. “He’s aware of the situation and I would prefer that he be present.”
A patronizing smirk curved the other man’s lips. “We won’t be breaking any bones today, if that’s your concern.”
“It’s not,” her father replied, but considering the nerves Arabella detected in his normally confident voice, she knew he was putting on a brave face.
With her heart beating wildly in her throat, she watched the trio ascend their way to the second level. Each step her father took was slow and tentative, as if he was about to face the gallows or something equally dreadful. When they rounded a corner and Arabella could no longer see them, she panicked because all she could think about was her father’s weak heart and the possibility that this stressful situation might prompt another life-threatening attack.
Without hesitating, she advanced up the stairs as well, arriving on the balcony level just as the three men headed into a nearby room and the door closed behind them. Trying to keep the rustling of her skirts to a minimum, she quietly made her way to where they’d disappeared and did the only thing she could do without making her presence known . . . she pressed her ear to the door to hear the conversation on the other side and to find out what horrible fate awaited her father.
Chapter 5
The fear that Maddux witnessed on Theodore’s face the second the man realized he was trapped in a room with his greatest adversary was one of the most gratifying moments of Maddux’s adult life. This moment of reckoning was fourteen long years in the making, and he was going to enjoy every fucking minute of it.
He planned to savor Theodore’s panic and despair. The same panic and despair his parents undoubtedly had felt at the end of their lives. Maddux wasn’t going to kill Theodore . . . but he was going to decimate his life as he currently knew it.
“Gentleman, have a seat,” Maddux drawled cordially from his chair behind the massive mahogany desk dominating the room.
Two of his trusted men from his security team stood flanking the closed door behind Theodore and Gavin. In front of where Maddux was positioned were four comfortable leather chairs and one extra he’d situated next to his own so that Vincent could sit beside him and across from the two men who’d made most of their living by extorting money from too trusting citizens and small businesses that could barely make ends meet as it was. Maddux’s parents being two of those people who’d suffered, and died, as a result of Theodore’s and Gavin’s greed.
Theodore huffed out an indignant breath that did little to disguise his rising apprehension as he glared from Maddux to Vincent. “What the hell kind of setup is this?”
Maddux leaned casually back in his chair and gave the other man a contemptuous smile. “Come on, Theodore,” he mocked. “Did you really think you were invited to a very exclusive ball because you’re the pillar of society? You clearly have a very large outstanding debt as a result of your gambling habit that’s gotten out of control, and according to Vincent, your repayment, and accumulating interest, is past due. If you’re unable to pay what you owe Vincent, then I’ll be taking over the note and you’ll be forced to meet my demands for compensation, and I can guarantee that by the time I’m done with you, you’ll wish that you’d never crossed paths with me or my family.”
“This is complete and utter bullshit,” Gavin snarled like a rabid pit bull. “This is extortion and you won’t get away with it.”
Maddux laughed at the accusation. “That is fucking rich, coming from two men who’ve made a living extorting and killing innocent people who are barely able to make ends meet. Now sit. The. Fuck. Down.” Each enunciated word reverberated in the room, angry and imposing enough that both Gavin and Theodore did as they were told, albeit begrudgingly.
An odd noise sounded on the other side of the door, and Maddux didn’t hesitate to get up to make sure no one else was on the balcony level, which he’d made strictly off-limits tonight for this private meeting. One of his security guys stepped forward as a precaution, and as soon as Maddux opened the door, he was shocked to see Arabella standing on the other side.
The stricken look in her wide blue eyes told him that she’d heard what he’d said about her father being a criminal… and worse. Maddux clenched his jaw at this unexpected turn of events. He didn’t want her here. She didn’t belong here, where corruption was about to take place, where Maddux himself would be ruthless in his vengeance. Yet . . . didn’t she deserve to know what a piece of shit her father really was?
And humiliating Theodore in front of his daughter was just another layer of revenge Maddux couldn’t pass up.
“Bella,” he murmured, deliberately softening the hatred and rage from his voice for her. “Since you’ve already been privy to our private conversation, why don’t you come in and join us and hear the rest of it?”
Wringing her hands, she tentatively stepped inside, her gaze immediately darting to Theodore. Pain and confusion etched across her pretty features and she swallowed hard before speaking. “Father . . . what have you done?” It came out as an aching whisper.
“I don’t want her here,” Theodore said through clenched teeth, ignoring the question and refusing to make eye contact with Arabella. “This has nothing to do with her.”
“I'm your daughter,” she said, more firmly now. “Whatever is going on with you, I have a right to know what it is.”
“Stay out of this, Arabella,” Gavin interjected, his tone condescending. “None of this concerns you.”
She strode the few steps it took to stand in front of where the other man was sitting, her animosity toward Gavin nearly palpable. Her fingers flexed in front of her, as if she were holding back the temptation to slap him across the face for the superior way he talked to her. “If it concerns my father, then it concerns me. I’m not leaving.”
With that, she settled into one of the vacant chairs, while Maddux returned to his seat behind his desk, resisting the urge to applaud her gumption.
“Let’s get back to business,” Maddux stated, leaning forward in his chair and clasping his hands on his desk.
He glanced at Vincent, indicating he had the floor. He’d been good friends with the man sitting beside him for years. It had actually been Vincent’s father, Christopher, who’d been a mentor to Maddux and had offered both financial advice and the capital to build his tech business. Unlike Theodore, Maddux had paid off his debt a long time ago. He didn’t like owing anyone anything, and never would.
“As of tonight, I’m calling in your loan, Theodore,” Vincent said without preamble.
“You can’t do that.” Theodore’s voice was just short of begging.
“According to the contract you signed, I can,” Vincent replied smugly, and slid a piece of paper across Maddux’s desk that showed the other man’s signature at the bottom. “I just did.”
“I need more time.” Sweat beaded at Theodore’s receding hairline and trickled down the sides of his face, even though it was a cool sixty-eight degrees in the room. “
It’s not like I have one and a half million dollars sitting around at home!”
Arabella gasped at that revelation, her mouth gaping open at the staggering amount. She stared at Theodore in shock as the first of many truths started to unfold about her father.
“Let’s be honest here,” Vincent said calmly, even though Maddux knew, beneath that cool composure, his friend was a shark. “Because of your gambling habit, you barely have two dollars to rub together and every line of credit you own is maxed out. That’s a problem for a businessman like me, especially with the interest you’re accruing at a rapid pace based on the principal you owe me.”
Theodore started to breathe a little bit harder as he dabbed a handkerchief across his sweaty forehead. “I’ve already signed over everything of value to you as collateral and a show of good faith,” he said angrily.
Arabella made a soft, strangled sound in the back of her throat when she realized what was at stake . . . her and her father’s entire livelihood, not to mention every piece of property they owned. “Father . . . no.”
“I want the cash,” Vincent demanded bluntly. “Tonight. Now.”
“That’s impossible and you know it,” Gavin jumped to Theodore’s defense.
“No, not impossible,” Maddux drawled, causing three pairs of eyes to shift his way. Gavin’s gaze narrowed, Theodore’s gaze turned wary, and Arabella’s eyes were filled with a hope he was going to crush. “Vincent, I’ll purchase the debt, plus interest, in cash.”
The look in Theodore’s eyes turned wild, as if realizing the repercussions of that transfer. “No,” he yelled, his voice shrill.
Ignoring the man’s outburst, along with the distress written all over Arabella’s face, Maddux retrieved the briefcase on the floor beside his chair and stood. After setting the attaché on the desk, he used a combination that released the locks, then opened the lid and turned the contents toward Vincent, just as they’d planned all along.
“How about three million dollars in cash in exchange for Theodore’s promissory note, along with all his assets, signed over to me?”
“Jesus Christ,” he heard Gavin say.
Theodore leapt up from his seat, his face white as a sheet at the implication of being at Maddux’s mercy. “You can’t do this!” he insisted frantically, panting for breath. “I don’t have three million dollars and you can’t just sell me off like some kind of cow to the highest bidder!”
“Did you not read the fine print in your contract?” Vincent asked, his tone blasé. “It clearly states that I have the right to sell your loan to another lender at any time without your consent.” He stood up, snapped the briefcase shut, then held out a hand to Maddux for him to shake. “You have yourself a deal, Mr. Wilder. I’ll be sure to have the transfer drawn up and the documents sent over to you on Monday for your approval and signature to formalize the deal. Theodore Cole’s outstanding debt is now your headache to deal with, not mine.”
Maddux watched Vincent leave the room, the first step toward sweet retribution flowing through him. For his mother and father, who’d moved to America from an impoverished town in Ireland because they’d wanted a better life for their family. Theodore was finally going to suffer until there was nothing left of him but a shell of a man. It was no less than the bastard deserved.
Theodore’s hand went to the front of his dress shirt and pressed against his heaving chest. “You’ll never get away with this, Wilder!”
Maddux gave him a cruel smile. “I already have. I own you, Theodore Cole. And I’m going to systematically ruin you and your life.” He stood up and splayed his hands on the surface of his desk, knowing how imposing his height and stature made him look in that moment. “This is how it will go . . . First, I'm going to foreclose on your house and other properties you own. I will take all your fancy cars, including the classic ones you so dearly love. Your business partners will learn exactly what kind of men you and Gavin really are, and what you do on the side to supplement your income.”
Theodore’s eyes were huge with soul-deep despair, and he was sweating profusely now, his fingers tugging at the bow tie around his neck that had to be choking him. Maddux didn’t give a shit, but it was the soft whimper of confusion and dismay that he heard from Arabella that nearly derailed everything he’d been planning for the past fourteen years. How could a woman he’d just met get under his skin in such a short amount of time?
Forcibly ignoring Arabella’s distraught emotions, he finished putting the final nails in Theodore’s coffin. “By the time I’m done wreaking havoc on your life, nobody will want anything to do with you. I’m going to take everything of value and importance away, so you’ll no longer have the ability to take away from those less fortunate. You will be the less fortunate.”
Theodore clutched at his heart, and a strangled sound escaped from his throat. Gavin turned toward the older man with concern, and before Theodore could fall back, Gavin grabbed his arm and eased him down onto the chair. Arabella immediately raced to her dad’s side, frantically searching the front pockets of his tuxedo jacket for something.
“Father, where are your nitroglycerin pills?” she asked, clearly overwrought but also impressively in control of the situation, as if this wasn’t the first time her father had had this kind of attack in her presence.
“Inside . . . pocket . . . jacket.” He wheezed each word, and Arabella quickly found the medication, retrieved a small pill, and shoved it under her father’s tongue.
“Jesus Christ, Wilder,” Gavin yelled furiously. “He has a heart condition. You’re giving him a fucking heart attack!”
Not an ounce of compassion stirred inside of Maddux. Feeling nothing but pure bitterness and disgust for the man, he merely crossed his arms over his chest and said nothing.
“I’ll be fine,” Theodore rasped, the medication that Arabella had given him seemingly calming his symptoms.
Arabella shook her head and turned toward Maddux with tears glimmering in her beautiful blue eyes. “Maddux . . . please . . .” she implored, so softly and so kindly even though he’d just announced his intentions to desecrate her dad. “Whatever my father has done to earn your wrath, you can’t do this to him. He’ll never survive. He’s sick . . .” She took a step closer to his desk, brave and resolute despite the flicker of trepidation he saw in her gaze. “Take me instead.”
Shock jarred through Maddux, but as a man who’d spent years perfecting a mask of control, neither his expression or body language betrayed that emotion. This woman was willing to give up her own freedom for her father’s, and it was definitely an interesting turn of events he’d never seen coming.
“Arabella, no,” her father uttered in horror.
Ignoring her father’s objections, Arabella held Maddux’s gaze steadily. “In exchange for you leaving my father alone, I will do whatever it takes, and whatever you demand, to work off his debt.”
Her father moaned like a dying animal at his daughter’s ultimate sacrifice, but other than that initial protest, he surprisingly said nothing more.
Maddux stared at the beautiful woman offering herself up to him, so sweet and naive in contrast to the dark, ruthless man he’d become. While he’d originally wanted to crush Theodore, Maddux also realized that taking Arabella in exchange—his only daughter, who he adored—would be equally devastating to the other man. How could Theodore live with himself knowing Arabella belonged to his greatest enemy solely because of his own weakness?
“And how do you propose you work off your father’s debt, Bella?” he asked, curious to hear her answer, especially when his own mind was already listing all the different ways he’d enjoy having her at his beck and call.
Bare shoulders held back, she swallowed hard, but her gaze remained bold and determined on his. “I will do anything you ask of me. I’m . . . I’m not afraid.”
God, the woman was fucking fearless, he thought, and he was drawn to that courage despite himself. Unlike her father, or even Gavin, she was unwavering in her loyalty.
“For Christ’s sake, Arabella,” Gavin shouted angrily, his face contorted with rage. “He’s not going to ask you to cook and clean and wash his laundry for him! He will ruin you for any other man.”
Arabella turned her gaze to Gavin, her expression cool with resolve. “Then so be it. It’s my choice to make.”
Gavin clenched his jaw and shifted his hot, angry gaze to Maddux. “She clearly doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
“I know exactly what I’m saying and what I’m doing,” she snapped at Gavin as she came to stand in front of him, poking her finger at his chest. “Unlike you, I’m willing to stand up and put my father’s life and welfare before my own. I’ll do whatever it takes to relieve him of this burden.”
“Arabella,” her father groaned, the sound filled with guilt. But for a second time, Theodore didn’t try and talk Arabella out of the proposition she’d asked of Maddux.
The man was either truly very sick or fucking selfish as hell, Maddux thought.
When Gavin said nothing else, Arabella whirled around to face Maddux again, the skirt of her voluminous ball gown swirling around her legs. “I promise, you’ll have no trouble from me. I will work off his debt, in any way you demand, in exchange for his freedom. Just . . . let him go. Please.”
Maddux could have denied her request and forged full steam ahead with the original plan, but everything about Arabella intrigued and tempted him. He wanted her, desired her . . . plus there was the bonus of Theodore thinking the worst was happening while his only daughter was under his care. The things the man would conjure in his mind would rip any decent father apart inside.
Determined to keep the upper hand, Maddux strolled around his desk until he was standing in front of Arabella and she tipped her head back to meet his gaze, hers with bold resolve. She’d clearly meant what she said when she’d told him she wasn’t afraid, and her tenacity made his dick twitch with the thought of taming that fiery attitude in the bedroom.
