Vermilion Desire

by Celia Crown

  “Am I the same?” he questions, a voice of doubt and insecurity. “Am I for research? A game for you to play? Please stop if it is. I can’t—”

  “No. Mr. Wolf is the love of my life. I love you now and forever; nothing can tear me away from you.”

  “God,” he whispers, shuddering with a heaving breath. “I love you, baby. I love you so much. I have wanted you in my arms for so long, and I don’t deserve you.”

  “You deserve me,” I assure him. “I’m yours.”

  He kisses the top of my head. “I’m yours, too, baby.”

  Chapter Eight

  Wolf

  “No, absolutely not.” I stand my ground with Cal beside me as Scarletta peeks her head out from my side.

  Her little hands are gripping my arm. She’s watching this whole thing go down as the annoying lawyer insists that we take this chance.

  “Scarletta is not going anywhere with you,” Cal grunts, crossing his arms over his chest.

  The layer sighs, unfazed and slightly irked. “This is the wish of Mr. Berkshire. He wishes to meet with Miss. Scarletta and asked me to pass this to you.”

  I glance down at the yellow envelope; the content inside is unknown as it’s sealed tightly. The lawyer closes his briefcase, but he doesn’t lock it as he isn’t going to leave any time soon.

  “However, this contains confidential information. I must be present for Miss. Scarletta to read it and return with the documents.”

  Scarletta stays, and so do I; this lawyer is not going to pull a stunt on us by framing her for anything on the order of that vile family. I have never met Berkshire Senior before, and I have no reason to either other than to investigate the crime his son had done.

  “Mr. Berkshire had offered you a choice to stay or leave, but he wishes for you to understand his condition too.”

  Whatever that family is planning, I don’t trust anything they say. The younger Berkshire probably had his father do some shady stuff behind everyone’s back, and somehow, this meeting with the lawyer in my own home could be part of a bigger scheme.

  “What shit are you planning with that little bastard?” Cal asks the question that I wanted to ask.

  “Mr. Braxton does not know about this. Mr. Berkshire had ordered me to not connect Mr. Braxton with him, and I am his lawyer, so naturally, I am to listen to Mr. Berkshire and not Mr. Braxton.”

  Cal snorts. “Senior’s paying your fees.”

  “He is,” the lawyer confirms. “However, this is not with regard to the criminal case of Mr. Braxton.”

  I am curious about what that old man wants with my Scarletta. Before all of this, no one truly knows the existence of my sweet girl, and now two powerful people know about her. It doesn’t sit well with me or the pacify Cal.

  “Mr. Berkshire has requested a meeting with Miss. Scarletta in his home as he is not physically able to leave his home.”

  I step in as Scarletta rubs her hand over my arm to calm me down. “She isn’t going by herself.”

  “Of course,” the lawyer readily agrees. “Mr. Berkshire will be expecting you gentlemen as well.”

  Scarletta sits down and gestures the other man to do as well. I take a seat between them to make sure this physical wall of my body scares the living hell out of any ideas in his head.

  Cal isn’t any better. He sits on the other side of the lawyer, sandwiching him between two seasoned detectives with the eyes of hawks.

  “Can I open it?” Scarletta points at the innocent envelop.

  The lawyer nods. She wastes no time in tearing the seal and pulls out a thick stack of paper. Her amber eyes scan the first page that catches my attention too. It’s a non-disclosure agreement.

  Immediately, my heart is rising in tempo. Having this is already a bad start on our part, and I do not trust anything that starts with a non-disclosure agreement, especially from a damn rich family who has a son on trial for a murder charge.

  “Wait a damn minute.” Cal holds up his hand, fishing out his phone and turning the camera function on to start recording. “I’m not taking any chances.”

  It’s a good idea. We’ll have proof to counter any bullshit the Berkshire family wants to pull. Not even lawyers can deny video proof.

  “As long as the documents are not presented in the video.”

  That sounds like the right way to do this. I nod at Cal as he continues to record everyone, but his eyes are flickering between the camera and Scarletta. We don’t want any technicalities happening to the video for the defense to use it against us.

  Scarletta signs the document’s front page and shows it to the lawyer before she clearly makes Cal scan the page slowly with the camera.

  She flips the page and begins to read. From the template and the wording, it’s a medical history chart. The name on it says it’s Berkshire Senior’s, and there are a lot of different medications printed following the order of the dates he took them.

  She’s quiet for a moment, merely concentrating on one page that makes her linger longer than the others. When Scarletta uses the silence to read everything in the stack of paper, she returns to that page with a curious hum in her soft voice.

  Back and forth on two pages, she furrows her eyebrows as if her mind had connected two things together.

  “Uncle Cal, can you stop the recording?” she asks, and Cal has no reason to doubt her when she puts the documents back into the envelope.

  Using the adhesive provided by the lawyer, she reseals the document, and Cal got everything on recording just in case the other says she didn’t seal the damn thing and throw some legality into the Braxton Berkshire case.

  Everything revolves around that case, and no one can be too careful.

  When Cal lowers the camera and puts it down on the kitchen table, the lawyer retrieves the document and locks his briefcase.

  “Berkshire Senior…” she murmurs, tilting her head to let a part of her red hair recreate a cascading effect. “His left side can’t move.”

  “Yes, however, his condition has been worsening over these past few years. As of now, he is wheelchair-bound.”

  “The family history you have given me is not complete; there are many people missing to get the whole picture, but I can hazard an educated guess that whatever Berkshire Senior has is hereditary,” Scarletta brazenly concludes.

  “That I cannot answer as I do not have the answer to it, but you are correct. The family medical information has not been completed; there are many missing papers that could not be salvaged in the fire that happened many years ago.”

  I remember reading it in an old newspaper from before I was born when my parents collected newspapers for fun, and the fire had shocked many people because it’s the damn Berkshire’s multimillion-dollar home that many envied and wanted to have.

  “What do you want me to do with this information?” she questions.

  The lawyer does not lie. “Mr. Berkshire wishes for you to study his family’s medical history and find the cause for his illness.”

  “That’s selfish,” Cal adds with a disappointed scowl. “He only wants to save himself and not his son? Well, not that I care if his damn son dies.”

  “I am simply following his wishes, Detective,” the lawyer points out. “Mr. Berkshire and his son are not as close as everyone believes that they are, but it is not my place to judge.”

  “Isn’t this conflict of interest since you’re one of the lawyers under the Berkshire?” Scarletta asks.

  “No.” The lawyer shakes his head. “Mr. Berkshire had signed an oath that has been approved by the court that he is to not interfere with the criminal proceeding of his son’s case, and he would be free to hire you as his rare disease researcher, and I would only have contact with Mr. Braxton with his lawyer present.”

  “I don’t trust you,” Scarletta states. “And I will not help Mr. Berkshire.”

  “Your Hippocratic Oath for scientists would suggest otherwise.”

  Scarletta smiles, humorless and perceptive. I
reach under the table and take her hand; she’s cold with icy fingers and soft skin. Her hand promptly warms with my heat as she appreciatively curls her small fingers around mine.

  “I became a rare disease researcher, not for the sake of saving others, but it is to satisfy my curiosity, and Mr. Berkshire’s family history of inbreeding has not sparked my interest.”

  The lawyer falls into silence before she continues. “On the other hand, I am fascinated by the same symptoms that Junior is experiencing now as it was the same for Senior when he was young.”

  “Mr. Berkshire will be expecting you and you gentlemen tomorrow morning.” The lawyer stands up and nods his head goodbye.

  He leaves just as quiet as he came in. Cal goes to the door and locks it, watching from the small opening to see the car driving away with a breath being released from his chest.

  I turn to Scarletta, gauging her thoughts through her expressive face. She’s interested and somewhat excited for tomorrow even though we had the talk about staying away from the Berkshire family.

  “You’re not thinking of going, are you?” Cal asks.

  Her big amber eyes are staring innocently at him. “He needs my help.”

  “You just want to know what the hell is wrong with that family,” Cal grumbles, dropping down at the chair with a heavy sigh.

  “How do you know what the father and son have is the same thing?” I can’t help but ask.

  She shrugs. “It took a while since he does hide it well from the public.”

  Scarletta stands to fetch herself a glass of water. “At the grocery store, he was so angry, and he wanted to come after us.”

  “But he didn’t,” I remind her. That day is still clear in my head, and it was the first time I had seen him having anything on his face other than smugness.

  “That’s because he can’t,” she says. “And when at the coffee shop where he and I had met…”

  I sink my nails into my palm, and she removes that pain by linking our fingers together when she sits back down on the chair. From the corner of my eyes, I see Cal roll his eyes and grunt something about young love birds.

  “When I left, I saw that he had chamomile tea with Nepeta cataria —basically catnip.”

  Cal snorts loudly, hands folding into his elbows. “Why do you care what the hell he drinks?”

  “Those are natural ingredients that relieve muscle rigidity. After that day, I had gone to the research facility to look for information on that. If he had just presented chamomile, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but he had catnip in it too.” She grins, and I give her a cautionary squeeze on her hand to knock it off.

  Clearing her throat, she drones on. “It’s a very distinctive minty smell. I wonder why he had that mixture, and then I found out about the natural muscle relaxants, and I began to look into his family history a bit more and saw that Berkshire Senior had an incident where he completely lost control of his left side in a speech he was giving.”

  I see. Everything is starting to make sense now, especially what she had done in the courtroom. She was trying to test out her theory to see if what she had thought was true; she’s a researcher at heart and a human girl second.

  That’s dangerous. I don’t want her to take that risk for research purposes.

  “And the court thing with the restraining order was so I can see how Berkshire reacts when he’s angry.”

  Cal impatiently huffs. “Well? You get your answer?”

  “He can’t move his left side when he’s angry.”

  This is news to Cal and me, but that would explain his unusual behavior. Anyone who is angry would be the first one to initiate action; that’s human behavior, and it had been studied by researchers who are in that field.

  “Where are you going with this?” I asked, cupping her soft cheek with my hand.

  She leans in, giggling as I brush her cheek. The softness under my thumb is addictive, and I want to kiss her plump pink lips.

  “Hands off, Wolf. Just because we’re partners doesn’t mean you can get touchy with my daughter.” Cal rasps his knuckles on the kitchen table.

  I scowl at him and his parental instinct even if she isn’t biologically his, but I admire him and his determination when I challenge him with a glare.

  We have been partners for years, so it’s not surprising to know that I don’t intimidate him anymore.

  “I know how to convict Braxton without the rest of the trial.”

  Cal jolts, rattling the chair as he leans forward. I accidentally pinch her cheek with my grip, and she whines in pain. Letting go, I find her hand again while her other one strokes her pink cheek.

  “How?” Cal and I demand with one voice.

  “I have been testing out something in the lab, and because Braxton is a shareholder in the facility too so it wouldn’t be too hard for him to get that information too.” She nods, a face full of nonchalant and calm contentment.

  “Then, we have to get to the district attorney right now!” Cal exclaims, shooting up from his seat.

  “I have a lot of things going on in my workspace. Braxton doesn’t know what to look for because he doesn’t know what I know.” Scarletta laughs.

  As if her mental breakdown hadn’t happened yesterday, she returns to that curious and manipulative little red. Nevertheless, she had learned her lesson, and she doesn’t do anything without my permission now.

  I can guarantee it.

  “Uncle Cal, you’re aiming for Captain,” she states. “The less you know, the better it is for you.”

  “What—” he sputters, indignant noises spitting out of his mouth.

  “Mr. Wolf, though, he can know so he can protect me.” She spins to look at me, and I give her a nod of approval.

  “Cal, I got her. Focus on your captain training; I don’t want anything to happen to your chance of passing.” I’m doing this for both of them.

  Cal’s years of hard work can be easily run down the drain with one wrong move, and I can protect Scarletta when she tells me everything.

  Just about his mouth want to spill out more protest, his phone rings, and he answers it with an agitated sigh. He coughs and hurriedly ends the call with a hand messing up his hair.

  “Alright, but keep her out of trouble. We know how sly that Berkshire bastard is.” He groans, shutting his eyes for a moment. “I have to go. Captain training schedule had been changed.”

  Scarletta gives him a thumbs-up as encouragement while I just nod at him. I leave her in the kitchen to lock the door after Cal. The streets are busy as hell since traffic always fucks with my mood during these hours.

  Returning to the kitchen, I find her with the corner of my eyes. She swings her short legs on the couch, and I close the distance between us.

  Scarletta jumps from the couch, spewing out nonsense. “I’m going to take a nap!”

  Her back turns with her perky ass bouncing with her scurrying feet. She is not going to avoid this conversation that I want to have her with, not a damn chance.

  I stalk her, making sure she knows that I’m cornering her like a predator darting after a prey. She looks over her shoulder and squeaks, picking up her pace and runs into the bedroom. Her mistake is not shutting the door as I make it there, but I do it for her as a way for symbolically destroying her escape route with a lock on the door.

  “Don’t think about going without me,” I warn her.

  She innocently gazes at me, and it’s working; my resolve is breaking when she crawls to the edge of the bed with doe-eyes.

  “What if he’s hiding something because you’re there?” she wonders, breath shallow and soft.

  “I don’t care. You’re not going by yourself.” I run my fingers through her hair, yanking her head back and forcing her little mouth to open.

  “Can I convince you?” she tries.

  I raise an eyebrow at her offer, but I have had everything possible thrown at me for bribery, and I have not once been swayed. Scarletta, on the other hand, is a weapon that c
an cripple me with one look.

  She paws at my thigh, pulling me on the bed, and my heart skips a beat at the implication. How could I ever resist the woman who haunts me in my dreams with scandalous dresses and a sinful body?

  I can’t, and I don’t bother fighting the inevitable either. She wants me just as much as I want her. Pushing me on the bed with my head falling on the soft pillows filled with her scent, she kisses me and steals the opportunity of me resisting control.

  A sweet taste amplifies as her little tongue brushes pass the barrier of my teeth, and I taste the sugary flavor she had put into her water.

  She’s bold when she trails down my neck with her pretty lips. She’s curious when she grinds her hot pussy against my cock, and she’s determined when her teeth sink into my skin just above my pulse.

  My hips jerk, lunging up and pressing tightly against her clothed cunt. I knead her ass, letting the plumpness spill between my fingers as she wiggles her ass.

  Scarletta is a virgin. That is a fact that I know, and I can swear by it. Her body has never been touched by a man, and yet, she’s following her instincts with wetness clinging to her panties.

  Damn her dresses for teasing me every day, but also bless that soft fabric for letting my cock feel just how soaked she is through my pants.

  Every tortuous day with her prancing around me with her short dresses and expecting me to be a decent man is like asking a criminal to not commit their signature crime.

  It’s not possible, but I have conquered the impossible. I haven’t done anything remotely inappropriate to her. I still have my morals and Cal to answer to. I can’t betray them, but those two go out of my mind when she shakily moans.

  It’s the prettiest sound I have ever heard. “Are you sure you want this, baby?”

  She murmurs, too softly under her breath to be understood. Her action says a lot as her small hands tug on my shirt, and that material is flying over my head with haste as I toss it away.

  She smiles, palming at the tent in my pants and squeezing my cock with her small hand. I don’t have to be asked twice to start peeling my pants off as she slips off her red dress.