Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter Book 2)
Page 39
Raising my head up, I look at him and ask, “Why not?”
He lets out a rush of air, before saying, “My dad or his staff could come out here.” He pauses, regaining his breath. “It’s not as private as you think.”
Oh, dear! The last thing I need is for Hendrik or his staff to witness what I had in mind! Jeez, what an embarrassment that would have been. I guess I will have to content myself with some cuddles. I move up again, and nestle myself against him, just like I’m so used to doing. As we both rest quietly on the mattress, my fiancé starts stroking my leg, my waist, and any skin he can lay his fingers on.
“Your dad truly lives in paradise,” I mumble, as I keep listening to the waves coming in and then slowly leaving the shore.
“That doesn’t mean he is happy.”
“Why wouldn’t he be?” I ask, raising my head up to meet his gaze. “He’s got everything here.”
I hear nothing but his breath. Alex seems to be ruminating about something as he stares absently out into the void. After a few seconds, though, his eyes finally land on me. “Except those he loves.”
It reminds me of the chat I had with Mona yesterday, but I ask him like I know nothing, “You mean, your sisters never come here?”
“Nope…” And the truth seems to bother him. Or maybe even hurt him. “He’s dead to them. I’m the only one who ever comes here to visit him.” Alex might disguise his pain with a smile, but as I observe him saying these words, I can tell how much this has impacted him, so I reach for his hand, holding it tight. “My dad can laugh, dance, and drink, but at the end of the day, I know he feels dead inside.” His words squeeze my heart just as if they were about my own dad. “Family means a lot to him. Much more than he’d like to admit.”
Despite all the grudges I hold against my dad, the more I think about Hendrik’s fate, the more I’d love to forgive him so he never feels like Hendrik does. A part of me still wants to believe I’ll be able to, someday, somehow. After all, Dad was the first person to tolerate our relationship. He was even the one who came with me to the Van Dierens’ and gave Alex a chance. I’ll never forget that. I guess most parents would’ve behaved just like my mom. The truth is, without his initial support, I have no idea what would’ve happened to Alex and me.
“Does anyone know you still visit him?” I ask.
“No one, except Sebastian.” Throwing a smile at me, Alex then adds, “And that’s a secret, Miss Van Gatt.”
“Mr. Van Dieren?” We follow the male voice coming from our left, and see Jason, the butler, approaching in our direction. And I’ve never been happier that Alex stopped me from going down on him a few minutes ago. Once Jason gets close enough, he says, “My sincere apologies for the intrusion, but, um, your dad would like to talk to you two. He’s at the main terrace. And it sounds like it’s urgent.”
“That serious?” Alex presses on.
“It seems so.”
I squint my eyes, perplexed and already quite curious. “Alright, let’s go, then.” After standing up, I check to see if my shorts are dry enough to wear them, but since they are still pretty damp, I leave them on the mattress to dry, and just take my iPhone with me. We follow Jason back to the main terrace, and as we enter, we find Hendrik sitting at the table with two other men I don’t recognize.
“Ryan?” Alex asks in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
I lean toward my fiancé and ask, “Who’s he?”
“My attorney,” he replies.
“Alex,” he greets in such a serious tone that it makes me shiver. What a contrast between them in suits and us in swim attire.
“Ryan came as fast as he could,” Hendrik notes.
Alex seems confused, just as I do. “But why?”
The two men exchange a stare, before Ryan announces, “Roy is accusing you of kidnapping his daughter. It’s in The New York Times.”
“What?!” we both shout at the same time.
“Yep, so I figured you might need some help.” Ryan hands me today’s newspaper, and my jaw drops as I read the headline, “Wall Street Titan, Alexander Van Dieren, Kidnaps Young Girl and Leaves the Country.”
“Kidnaps?” I snap, out of breath as I see our pictures printed next to such a ridiculous headline.
“Eric Bradford is leading the case,” Ryan tells us. Oh my God! Emma told me he was going to do something. But I never thought his revenge would be against me! “And they have his entire office looking for you both.”
“Fuck,” I hear Alex mumble as he starts looking at the article more closely.
I also read a few lines, enough for me to ask, “How can I be abducted by the man I love? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well, according to the story, he abducted you to isolate you from your family and to prevent you from recovering from your OLD and depression.”
“I’m an adult,” I remind them. “I can be with whomever I want. This OLD is bullshit.”
“It might be, but they will use your current illness to claim you couldn’t consent and most likely to become your legal guardians.”
I freeze at the word guardian. “How can they do that? What kind of guardianship is that?”
“Most likely guardianship of an incapacitated adult under the Mental Hygiene Law,” another man sitting beside Ryan says.
I chuckle at the absurdity. “That is not possible, right?”
“I’m afraid it is,” Ryan replies back. “Under New York law, if the court decides you are mentally ill based on enough evidence, the judge can appoint a legal guardian to prevent you from doing anything that they consider, um, well, harmful.”
Evidence. Oh my God! I went on a hunger strike and confessed my suicidal thoughts to Dr. Nel. Could that be enough?
It feels like a nightmare, or in this case, a loophole for possessive families to keep controlling their kids when they reach adulthood. Trying to strip my freedom away as soon as I make one damn decision on my own? Breathing becomes harder as I look again at the headline, but I try to keep my composure. I hold myself up against the back of the first chair my hands land on, and focus on inhaling and exhaling.
“Are you okay?” Alex asks.
But I focus on my breathing as I feel my blood pressure slowly coming down.
Closing my eyes, I nod, but I don’t have the strength to talk. The palpitations in my heart are jumping off the chart at the idea that a judge could strip my freedom away. A judge my dad or Eric could know perfectly well.
Then, I hear Alex ordering fresh water with lemon, and I find myself in his embrace, with his lips pressing against my forehead. “Hey…” he whispers. “It’s gonna be alright.” I force myself to remain calm, breathing in and out and fighting the growing fear of what the future holds for us. “Can we have a moment, please?”
I hear everyone standing up and footsteps leaving the terrace. Alex takes me by the arm and makes me sit in one of the chairs.
“Here, have some water.” Opening my eyes, I hold the glass and bring the fresh water to my mouth.
After taking the first sip, I say, “You know that story of Latifa, the Emirati princess who tried to escape her controlling father, but was caught and brought back to Dubai?”
“Um, I heard about it, yeah.”
“Her father said the same thing to the media, that she had been kidnapped,” I tell him before finishing my lemon water in one gulp. “My dad is becoming very good friends with Eric Bradford,” I tell him. “And Emma told me Eric was up to something.” I pause for a beat and say, “I have to talk to Matthew.”
But Alex cocks his head to the side. “Petra, I doubt your friend will be of any help.”
And while Alex might be right, a part of me sincerely hopes not. Matthew is a close friend after all, and he can talk to his dad and persuade him to drop the charges against my fiancé. He knows perfectly well that it’s all bullshit. “I have to try and talk to him.”
“You know the rules…”
“Don’t you get it?” I snap back. “I
f we don’t fight back, my freedom is at stake. Use a fake number, a VPN, or whatever, but I have to talk to him.”
Alex takes my phone and does something on it. “I’m gonna connect to a VPN and set your number to private, but we’re taking a huge risk.”
Then he gives me back the phone, and as I look at the screen, I force myself to remember Matthew’s number and type in the digits, hoping they are in the correct order. I put the phone against my ear and wait…
I draw in a breath upon hearing a male voice answering, “Hi?”
“Matthew? It’s me, Petra,” I reply with excitement.
“Petra? Jeez, how are you? Are you okay?” His tone is laced with worry.
“I’m fine, yes. Um, I just saw the article in The New York Times—”
“Where are you?” he asks, cutting me off.
“I can’t tell you that. Look—”
“Fuck, is he holding you hostage?”
My jaw drops at his question. “No. I’m fine,” I repeat. “Please, tell your dad to drop the charges against my fiancé. I don’t want to be found.”
But Matthew releases a loud breath in annoyance. “Is he asking you to say that? Petra, you are being manipulated,” he replies, sounding condescending. “He’s cutting you off from everyone and everything. That’s how abusive relationships start.”
“‘Matthew,” I call, trying to calm him down. “We are here because my parents were tapping my phone, imposed bodyguards on me, and nearly implanted a tracking chip in my arm. They are the ones who are abusive.”
“Your parents have common sense!” I huff immediately at his answer. Since when is this common sense? “You are so sick. Like, you have been diagnosed with OLD, depression, and PTSD, but you are still in total denial. They did it to protect you.”
I can’t believe after everything my parents have done to me, Matthew is still protecting them. What about me and my happiness? Don’t they matter? Jeez, he’s beyond crazy. Since Matthew doesn’t seem to understand I’d rather be free and with the man I love, than unhappy and trapped under the guardianship of my parents, I know at this point I have to dissuade Eric to drop the charges myself. “Matthew, please, may I speak to your dad?”
“Um, what do you want to tell him?”
“I need to know what’s going on,” I lie. What I want is to persuade Eric to leave us alone. “I just need five minutes to talk to him, please.”
After a few seconds of silence, Matthew finally says, “Alright, one minute.” I heave a sigh of relief as I wait for Eric to take the call.
“Yes?”
“Hi, Eric, it’s Petra Van Gatt,” I greet as politely as possible.
“Ms. Van Gatt, thanks God you managed to contact us. Where are you? Did he harm you? Did you manage to escape?”
Damn, his questions are beyond absurd. “Don’t worry, I’m doing great. Um, I read the article published in The New York Times,” I inform him. “I’m not sure how my parents managed to get this article out, but may I remind you that misinformation and defamation are serious offenses?” I keep my tone cold and calculated, but not aggressive. “I suggest you drop all the charges against my fiancé. There’s no need to engage in a judiciary battle over such nonsense.” My heart keeps accelerating as I anxiously wait for his answer.
“Petra, my job as a prosecutor is to go after those who abuse their position and show predatory behavior toward younger girls. I’m afraid only a judge can decide now.” What the heck is he talking about? “We have laws in place to protect people who have been incapacitated due to mental illness.”
His comment is so condescending that I feel the urge to hang up, but instead I say, “I appreciate your concerns over my mental wellness, but I’m fine. I’m perfectly capable of making decisions on my own. If my parents want to ever see me again, they better drop the charges.”
“Alright, I will transfer the message,” he says dryly.
“Thank you.” And we hang up.
Jeez, I shiver at how disgusting the Bradfords have become. Matthew has always advocated for individual rights and freedoms, and yet now he has sided with my parents, who would gladly take mine away. What a fucking jerk! Why is he doing this? For the Patreon money my dad has been giving him every month? For the sake of having a good relationship with him? Unbelievable how he threw his integrity out the window for so little.
“Alex?” Ryan comes out, holding an iPhone. “Roy is on the phone.”
“Put it on speaker,” he says.
But Ryan gives a quick glance at me first. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Ryan walks toward us and puts the phone on the table, before pressing the speaker button.
“Hi, Roy,” Alex greets, his tone more restrained and severe than usual.
“Alex…” I haven’t heard my Dad’s voice for so long that it feels strange and foreign to hear it again.
“First off, you are on speaker. And there’s my attorney here and Petra,” Alex announces.
“Good to know.” Dad’s tone is so cold and clinical that he sounds totally unrecognizable. “Petra, how are you?”
“Dad, please stop this nonsense. Why are you doing this?” I ask, taming my anger, rage, and all the other boiling emotions inside, trying to keep them from taking over me. “You know perfectly well that Alex didn’t kidnap me.”
But Dad doesn’t reply to my question, and instead he says, “You guys are also on speaker, and the entire board’s here with me. We are having a meeting to vote you out.”
“What?” I ask, immediately looking at Alex. I can’t keep from gaping in outrage at my dad’s move. “They are trying to fire you?”
But Alex doesn’t give anything away. “HR was perfectly aware that I’d be out for fourteen days. I’m taking my leave.”
“HR, yes. The board, not really,” Dad snaps back. What a freaking monster he is! I’m glad I saw through him since the day he threatened my inheritance. As I notice Alex’s hand resting on the table, I decide to take it and hold it tightly. It might be a simple gesture, but I hope it’s enough for him to know we are in this together until the end.
“Roy, you know you can’t fire me. I own as much of the company as you do. Stop this freaking nonsense,” he tells Dad, aiming to bring some common sense to this useless fight against us.
“Correct, we both own forty-seven percent, and our dear investors the remaining six. And they are here, at the table, quite alarmed by your actions.”
“You need more than that to fire me. Any evidence that my actions are hurting the company financially? It’s our best year so far, so I highly doubt it,” Alex points out. “You are actually the one who is putting the company in jeopardy by publishing defamatory articles about me.”
“Me?” Dad asks rhetorically.
“Yes, you know this is just to destroy my reputation, which makes no sense, since this can also hurt our company.”
“My daughter is sick, and you abducted her to prevent her from being treated! It’s the least I could do!”
What? I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Dad’s totally lost his mind! “That's a freaking lie!” I shout. “I’m going through depression because of your abusive and controlling behavior! I should be the one pressing charges against you and Mom.”
“Petra, stay out of it,” Dad scolds. Not a chance!
“Alex?” I hear a calm, serene female voice on the phone. And thank God she piped in. I was ready to blow a fuse. “We don’t intend to vote you out. Your performance this year has been excellent. But tensions between the chairman of the board and the CEO are never good for business. We expect you to be back in New York to fix this mess.”
Before any of us can respond, Mike, the COO, steps in. “Yeah, the story published about the kidnapping and the attorney general being involved is not reassuring our clients. Your credibility took a big blow, mate.” My blood pressure is climbing with every word coming out of his mouth, and it takes everything in me not to refute his statements. “We don’t want
this to get worse and then have to put you out to keep them.”
“Mike, no one is gonna pull their investments because of this nonsense,” Alex presses on. “This is just a poorly calculated move by our chairman and his ex-wife.”
“Some clients are seriously worried,” Mike confesses. “You know, these kinds of stories can spread quickly. A young woman, barely legal, who is the daughter of our chairman…” Mike exhales a rush of air, trying to remain as politically correct as possible. “Our clients are not happy with your lack of ethics.”
Alex shakes his head, knowing all too well that it’s all bullshit. “I will make some calls, don’t worry.”
“Are you gonna come back to fix this mess, yes or no?” the female voice asks again.
“Look, I can’t promise I will be back in New York, but I promise I will fix this from where I am. I will contact our PR team and issue a press release and call our clients.”
“Alright, you better fix this mess and fast,” she adds. “We don’t need any more bad publicity.”
“Will do, bye.” And Alex hangs up.
Now that it’s just the two of us and his lawyer, I say, “I can’t believe Dad was trying to fire you.” Shaking my head, I look downward in disgust at what he just did. “You guys are best friends.”
“He’s being pressured by Tess. Your dad is innocent.”
And I blink twice, totally baffled at how Alex is still trying to protect him. “Dad is an accomplice; he’s not innocent,” I correct him. And, drawing in a deep breath, I ask, “Ryan, may I have a moment alone with Alex, please?”
“Sure…” Ryan walks off the terrace, closing the door behind him.
Once we are left totally alone, I look my fiancé in the eye and tell him, “You know that my loyalty toward you is unconditional.” A sincere smile tugs on his lips at my statement, and we keep our hands just as tightly entwined. “But I need to know the truth.” He cocks his head to the side in confusion. And knowing that I have to be a bit more specific, I say, “What does my mom have against you two?”
But he breaks eye contact just as fast, pulling his hand away from mine. “You know I can’t tell you that.”