Turning around, I see Connor standing behind me. He looks concerned. I must've been noisier than I thought, stomping all over the place like a bull in the china shop.
"Nothing," I snap, pulling on my T shirt. "Just work."
"Can I help at all?"
Shaking my head, I hurry to give him a kiss before rushing out the door. If I stay even a second longer, I'll burst into tears. And I can't have that.
I don't want tears right now. I want anger.
I'm going to take back what's mine.
9
Connor
My fingers grip the steering so hard that my knuckles turn white.
They're outside the house now, and Lizzie's yelling at that man. Jack, I presume. He looks about as stupid as I'd imagined. Like an underdeveloped cartoon character with a golf ball sized head topped with hair that looks like it came out of an instant noodle packet.
He has a smug look on his face, leaning against the door frame with a cup of tea as she rails into him.
The hour is early, but they're already drawing a crowd of onlookers. Dog walkers slow their pace to take in the commotion happening on their quiet little Notting Hill street. These strike me as the sorts of people who'd argue with their spouses in hushed whispers even inside their home, because God forbid a neighbour hears their row. This scene with Lizzie and Jack will give them something to gossip about for the next year.
Eventually, Lizzie throws her hands up and storms away.
I see her from my vantage point, parked down the street. Her face is beet red, and as soon as Jack shuts the door behind her, she breaks down.
Her shoulders heave with sobs as she storms down the path and heads for the main road.
In this moment, I have the utmost respect for her in not allowing an enemy to see her weakness. At the same time, my heart splinters in my chest at the sight of her tears.
All I want to do is take her into my arms and kiss her tears away.
Instead, I let her walk away. It's best for now.
I turn back to the large white door.
That pompous cunt made my woman cry.
My woman.
Mine.
I'm going to gut him like a fucking fish.
Unbeknown to Lizzie, I was awake even before her this morning. Not wanting to disturb her sleep, I lay perfectly still to allow her time to rest. She needed the rest after last night.
I read the email over her shoulder.
I didn't mean to invade her privacy like that, but when I felt her entire body stiffen against me, I knew something was wrong.
My animal nearly got the better of me in that moment. I wanted to find Jack and break his legs then and there, but knew Lizzie needs to fight her own battles.
It's not my place to fix her problems for her. She's her own woman, and a successful one at that.
I dial her number.
She answers immediately.
"Hey," I say. I can still just about make out her silhouette disappearing into the morning fog. "Everything okay with work? You seemed a little tense earlier."
"Yeah, it's fine."
She pauses, and I hear her sniffle.
"No, actually it's not," she sighs. "I'm going to lose my company, Connor."
She starts crying again, and my blood boils in my veins.
"I'm so sorry gorgeous, what happened?"
"My ex, he basically has the authority to remove me from my own company. I'm such an idiot, agreeing to let him put his name on the register. He convinced me it was for the best."
I listen in silence as Lizzie goes on to tell me how Jack's financial adviser, who also handled the incorporation of Lizzie's Threads, had persuaded her to give Jack authority in her business. Authority he's now using to overthrow Lizzie.
"You're not an idiot, Lizzie," I say. "You trusted that he had your best interest at heart. That makes you a good person. And you built up a successful business from scratch. You're far from anything resembling an idiot."
She huffs. "No difference now, is there? That spiteful man is about to take it all away from me. As if cheating on me wasn't enough."
"Anyway," she continues, "I need to get a lawyer now. The one we currently have on retainer is the firm used by Jack's family. If there's no way out for me, I'm going to need to let my staff know."
"I have a lawyer," I say. "Can I come over in a few hours? We can work this out together."
"Yes, yes of course. I really don't want to be alone today, Connor."
"You won't be."
We say our goodbyes, then I exit my car and walk up to the house. Casting a quick eye over my shoulder to ensure the coast is clear, I knock on the door. Loudly.
"Who the bloody hell's this now?" A nasally voice comes from within.
The door soon opens, revealing the cartoon who made Lizzie cry.
"Can I help you?" He asks with a frown.
Good lord, this man looks like the poster boy of a posh wanker. What did Lizzie ever see in him?
"You Jack?" I ask.
Now that he's had a chance to see me up close, some of that bravado is starting to seep out.
His beady eyes widen, and he suddenly doesn't know what to do with his hands. So he cups both of them around his steaming mug of tea and nods.
"Excellent."
In an instant, I draw my favourite knife out and step forward, pressing the tip right under Jack's chin. Just enough to break the skin slightly.
Jack gasps.
The mug of tea falls silently onto the welcome mat, its hot contents spilling out onto my shoes.
I'm not amused.
Pushing him inside and kicking the door shut behind me, I lead the wobbly cheeked brat towards a couch.
"P..Please," he begs, "take whatever you want. Just don't hurt me, please."
I punch him square in the face, shattering his nose.
With a howl of pain, Jack drops onto the couch.
Blood oozes down his stunned face, getting into his mouth and dripping down his dressing gown.
His mouth opens and closes in silence.
Shock.
That's what it is.
When the grave reality of a situation dawns on somebody, their minds refuse to accept it at first. Their bodies react, but fear and shock paralyses their mind. I've seen it happen so many times in my life.
"Who are you?" Jack finally whispers.
The air stinks of fear now. A stale, mouldy smell wafts off this entitled prick in waves.
So I smash my fist into his face again, so hard that his teeth scrape into my knuckles, tearing the skin off.
Jack starts crying, shrinking farther into the couch with both hands over his face.
He's an easy man to break.
"Now then," I say, " let's have a chat, shall we?"
10
Lizzie
"Okay, well thanks for your help."
Ending the call, I hurl my phone across the room. It hits the wall, shattering into pieces.
Now I'm phone-less, and lawyer-less.
Could this day get any worse?
This is the second lawyer in the city who was refused to work with me, just because of the Pinkleworth name.
Grabbing my laptop, I search for lawyers outside of London. Surely there'll be someone willing to take the case.
I know Connor mentioned he has a lawyer, but if what I've just experienced is any kind of indicator, then it's just another rejection waiting to happen.
My business and most of my investments were all made through Lizzie's Threads. Why the hell didn't I create a back up plan? This lesson is one I'll carry to the grave.
I'll never let another person hold any kind of financial control over me again.
How easy it is to lose everything I've worked so hard for.
It's just past five in the evening, and I've spent the day cooped up in Maria's flat trying to work things out.
Jack was adamant against letting me keep the company. His smug face is drilled into my mind, taunting me with e
ach passing minute.
I pleaded, I damn near begged him to let me keep my darling business and all he had to say was a firm 'No'. He didn't even try to hide the victorious grin curling up his mouth.
He told me how I'm a horrible Director, and how Annie Lewis is much better poised to take the reigns. When I finally flew into a rage and started yelling, it only seemed to egg him on even more.
I nearly lost control.
All I wanted to do was smack him so hard that he sees stars.
But where would that have gotten me? He'll probably leverage his connections to get me locked up for physical assault.
I'm at a loss.
I'm tired, and hungry, and depressed.
It feels like there's a dark cloud hovering over me, slowly squeezing all sorts of pain into my body until breathing itself is becoming a struggle.
I finally locate the website of a company in Bath. Surely that's far away enough? Their website looks professionally made, and they have very good reviews.
Worth a shot.
I go to enter the number in my phone only to remember that, like my life, it's now in pieces on the floor.
Standing up gingerly, I go over to inspect the damage.
There's a large crack on the screen and the back cover has flown off. I try turning the device on, but it looks like it's game over for the phone.
Tears threaten to take me again but I bite down on my lip to stem them.
I won't cry anymore, there's been enough of all that.
I'll fight.
I'll exhaust every option I can, no matter the cost.
A knock sounds from my door.
Turning to the windows, I see the sun has almost set. It's getting late now, so who can it be outside the flat? Maria is not due home for another couple of hours.
I've not been in touch with Connor since this morning. I kept meaning to text him Maria's address, but with the stress I'd been under, there just wasn't any time.
Plus, it's not like I can text him now.
Did Jack send someone to deal with me?
A shudder crawls through my body.
Jack has never struck me as a violent person, but that's not to say he can't just send someone to do his dirty work for him.
Another knock.
Creeping into the kitchen, I pull out the largest knife I can find before going to the door.
Why the hell doesn't it have a peephole? Aren't most doors supposed to come fitted with one?
Gently, I pry open the door.
The smell of hot, fresh Chinese food hits me straight away.
With a grumbling tummy, I open the door to reveal Connor, carrying four takeout containers and an unreadable expression.
He kisses me then walks in, looking completely at home in this place.
"Hi," I say. "Umm, did I text you my address? I really can't remember."
He just shrugs and places the food on Maria's coffee table before sauntering into the kitchen.
I remain glued to the spot, confused, as I hear him put the kettle on.
"How are you feeling?" He asks, emerging with two mugs of tea.
"Better now, but still shitty." I gratefully take a hot mug.
"You need to eat." Connor opens the containers.
The sight of those gloriously oily noodles, chicken with cashew nuts, egg fried rice and black pepper venison makes my tummy do a happy dance.
"How did you know I like all these dishes? I mean, these exact dishes?"
"No idea," he winks. "I like them, so just assumed you would too."
He grabs some plates and we sit down to eat.
I'm grateful for the distraction, even if it's temporary. Scooting closer to him on the couch, we tuck in.
I'm reaching for another helping of rice when Connor says "I visited Jack Pinkleworth earlier."
My fork clatters on the table.
I stare at him, but he's busy working a forkful of Chow Mein into his mouth.
"What?!" I ask.
Connor places his plate down and turns to me, gently wiping a crumb of food off my lip.
"I visited Jack Pinkleworth earlier."
Rolling my eyes, I urge him to go on.
"I saw the email this morning, Lizzie. And I'm sorry I didn't mention it before."
Stunned, I wait for him to continue.
"I was there this morning. I followed your cab. I wanted to be sure that moron wasn't a threat to you," Connor confesses. "I wasn't going to get involved, but when I saw the state you were in when you left his house, I just flipped."
"What did you do to him?" I ask.
I hope Connor hurt him. It's a sick, twisted thing to admit, but I really hope Connor could do what I wished I did. What I would have done personally, if it wasn't for some ridiculous notion of how violence is never the answer.
Smiling, Connor kisses me on the cheek. "Nothing some rhinoplasty and a trip to a good dentist won't fix."
My mouth drops, and Connor reaches into his jacket to retrieve a white envelope.
"The important thing is, Mister Pinkleworth has very kindly stepped down from his position at Lizzie's Threads," he continues. "You're now the sole Director, and person of significant control. My lawyers are combing everything through with a fine tooth comb as we speak, but here are the initial papers for your records."
He plops the envelope on my lap, but I don't even look at it.
Our plates fall to the floor as I jump into Connor's arms, peppering kisses all over his handsome face. Tears of joy finally make their way out, falling from my eyes in little rivers as I hug this incredible man as tight as I possibly can.
Damn him.
Damn him and his wicked ways.
Damn him for cupping my heart so softly, and looking after it so well.
Damn him for taking on my pain like it's his own, and for doing everything he can to make things better.
Damn him for making me fall so hopelessly in love with him that I can't begin to imagine a life without his presence.
"I love you," I smile so widely that my cheeks hurt.
"I love you too, gorgeous."
Picking me up, Connor carries me to the bedroom.
Words aren't needed anymore. As we ravage each other into orgasmic bliss, the sun is finally engulfed by the evening sky.
Putting an end to my troubles, and my painful past.
I know that when the sun rises next, I'll never be alone again.
I'll be with a man who will move Heaven and Earth for me. A man who'll love and cherish me.
A man who'll be by my side, guarding me as I achieve every dream I set my mind to.
Someone who will build his own castle in my heart.
Epilogue
Lizzie
Six Months Later
"Toast, toast, toast." Jax starts chanting, drumming his fingers on the table.
Rykard soon joins in, followed by their wives Lorraine and Alessa.
Before I know it, all our guests at The Greenhouse have erupted into a roar.
Glasses are clinking, whooping and whistles fill the air.
My best friend Maria is literally jumping on the bar. I'm concerned her pink party hat is about to be knocked clean off by the wooden beam next to her head.
"Alright already," Connor says, standing up.
The room quietens in anticipation. Connor stringing more than a few sentences together? This isn't something that happens very often.
Leaning down, my husband places a protective kiss on my head and gives me a wink that sets my tummy fluttering.
He looks so dapper in his three piece charcoal suit, and I've already told him I'll be the one to remove it later. In fact, I'll probably leave it on as I ride him like a bronco.
"Thank you all for being here this afternoon," Connor says. "In the middle of July, no less. Surely you've got better things to do, like lay in the sun?"
He gestures to the scorching heat outside. "That, my friends, won't be there tomorrow."
"However," he continues
, "it means the world to us to have you share in our special day. This lady here has made these last few months of my life a complete whirlwind of love and joy. Two things I never thought I'd be lucky enough to experience."
Connor looks at me, the way only he can. His eyes convey so much love that I can't help but melt under his gaze. It's been like this from the very first time, and it still holds true today, six months later.
My days begin and end with him.
Each new day is an adventure, an opportunity for us to find out more about one another. To share our hopes and our pain, knowing the other person is there unconditionally.
Lizzie's Threads is now mine alone. Its success continues on, and I'm in the midst of talks with a new startup to collaborate on introducing a men's range as well.
Castle stands proud as it always does, with Connor at the helm. There have been no new members in the dungeon since myself, as he wants to keep the secret lair private. It doesn't stop us from making full use of it on most evenings, though. I'm on a first name basis with the entire roster of staff by this point. Originally, I was surprised at his choice at having our wedding reception at The Greenhouse, a trendy Soho cocktail bar. But Connor told me it's tradition. Holding a reception here in Lorraine's bar brings good luck. Both Rykard and Jax had theirs in here, and they have such strong marriages.
As I've gotten closer with them, I was so impressed to learn of the ups and downs both men had to endure to be where they are today.
I did make Connor promise we'll still have a party at Castle, though. His staff deserve a night of fun, and I want to celebrate our wedding with them too. We kept our ceremony small, limited only to family and close friends. Diego is the only one from Castle here, and that's because Connor and him go way back.
Alessa, Jax's wife, has arranged everything for us tonight. Castle will be closed this evening for a private party. It'll be a grand slam, and I couldn't have asked for a better wedding.
The boss's lady.
That's what some of the staff used to call me. It has a nice ring to it, although Connor doesn't like it. As far as he's concerned, I'm Lizzie.
Not the boss's lady.
Not the boss's other half or missus.
Just Lizzie.
A woman in my own right, with her own identity.
Castle: A steamy romance novella (Angels Series Book 3) Page 5
