Heart of Gold (The Golden Boys - Book 1)

by Michaela Haze

  I was forming a plan of how to sue Sarah for loss of earnings, thirty million down the drain (potentially) all because of her lies.

  My phone rang. It hadn’t stopped since I’d touched down in Manhattan. I had to admit that I missed the insular vacuum of Louisiana. The small town I lived in and all.

  It was a different atmosphere. Slower. Less cruel and brutal and I was adjusting to life in Goldryn Bois better than I had expected.

  I'd left the town with notions of striking out but I’d returned to find that I had shunned everything Goldryn Bois offered when maybe I shouldn’t have.

  “Gold.” I grunted as I answered the phone.

  “Eli, my boy. How are you doing?” An unfamiliar male voice responded. “Don’t you recognise your new father in law’s voice?”

  Walter Mallory. My lip curled over my teeth and I clenched my fists. My anger radiated from me in waves. As I rode up the elevator to my office, sharing the small space with a woman that from the looks of it couldn’t get away fast enough.

  “Walter.” I said, keeping my voice level. “I don’t think you should be encouraging Sarah like that. We're not engaged. She's still married to Hank Kellerman if I remember rightly.”

  “Well, yes.” Walter said indulgently. “But we all know that'll tie itself up quickly. It has to wrap up before the baby is born.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. “I have no plans to marry your daughter.” I told Walter.

  “I heard about the Wilson deal.” Walter continued as if he hadn’t heard me. “I was disappointed when you didn’t come to the Mallory's for your lumber. It's a slight to Goldryn Bois. We like to keep things local.”

  “Wilson’s are still on board.” I said through clenched teeth with crossed fingers, hoping that was the case.

  “If you need my help, son, just let me know.” Walter replied with ease.

  “I need you to stop your daughter from spreading lies online.” I snapped.

  “But she is pregnant. And it is yours.” Walter laughed without humour. “My girl has more sense than to lie. If the baby was her husband's we'd all know when it came out black.” Whilst that might have been true, it was crass to say.

  I'd done my research. That’s why I believed Sarah when she said it was mine.

  I marched down the corridor and slammed my office door open once I reached it.

  “Keep your daughter away from me. Do you want money? Fine. Contact my lawyers. We'll write it up. I don’t want to see Sarah again. Ever.”

  I ended the call and barely restrained myself from throwing the iPhone across the room. Instead, I sank into my office chair and put my head in my hands as I looked down at Central Park.

  “She’s fucking crazy.” I whispered. “That whole family is fucking insane.”

  My phone rang again and Rina’s name flashed on the screen. I sighed in relief.

  “Hey, have you spoken to Harry?” I blurted out upon answering.

  “Hi Rina. How are you, Rina? How’s my brother, Rina? Is he well?” She said mockingly.

  “Don’t start with me, Langley.” I snarled.

  “But you're so easy to rile up.”

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “Sarah Mallory broke into your house yesterday. You should check your feeds to make sure nothing's missing.”

  “Fuck.” I growled. “Security didn’t stop her?”

  “Not sure but Harry found her in your kitchen.”

  “Is Harry okay?” I asked.

  “Sarah really fucked with her head.” Rina sighed. “Sarah is pushing the envelope to close in on you, while she pushes Harry further away from you. Backstabbing and lying about you the whole time.”

  “How?”

  “Harry walked in. Your ex had clothes strung out on the floor. Sarah made it look like you were there—having sex—when you were in New York all along. How could you lead her on like that, Elliot?”

  “Rina, I meant how did she break and enter?”

  “It's hard to explain over the phone. Maybe you should watch your security feed.” She suggested.

  After I ended the call, I did just that. Pulling my laptop forward, I signed into the security system and watched the footage from the night before, starting around lunchtime.

  I watched as Sarah tipped my clothing to the floor and artfully arranged it to look like a fit of passion.

  I watched right up until I saw the heartbroken and angry face that Harry wore as she stormed out.

  I picked up my phone to call her but it went straight to voicemail.

  Wilson's Woodworks and Lumber tentatively agreed to keep to their contract once I provided the evidence of court proceedings and the security footage of Sarah breaking into my home. If I’m lucky, they'll see the manoeuvre for what it was. The Mallory’s posturing and playing small-town games with the big leagues.

  Traditionally, the founding families of Goldryn Bois don’t go against each other. Disputes have always been smoothed over via the town council. Then again, it was also an unwritten rule to keep business local. It seemed that I had broken that rule when I went to Wilson’s instead of the Mallory’s.

  Despite the fact that the Sarah mess began before all that.

  I was tired when I stepped off the plane in Baton Rouge and Markus greeted me. He tipped his baseball cap, but said nothing as we drove into town.

  It wasn’t until we pulled up outside my home on the Row that he spoke.

  “Your mother wants to know which one of your women you plan on bringing to the Mistletoe festivities next week.” Markus said.

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t have 'women'.” I pulled open the car door and thanked Markus for his time. I made a mental note to ask Harry if she wanted to come to Mistletoe Day at the Gold Manor. If she believed me about Sarah Mallory.

  I walked around the back and punched in my key code. I made a mental note to change it, even though I had no idea how Sarah had gotten inside.

  Speak of the devil and they shall appear. Her peroxide blonde back was to me as she did the washing up like it was her kitchen and not mine.

  “Oh honey! You’re home. I got your note.” Sarah turned around, and her eyes sparkled. I couldn’t place the emotion behind them but it wasn’t good.

  “What are you doing here?” I snarled, as I pulled my phone from my pocket. I dialled the number for my security office.

  “Yes, Mr. Gold?”

  I stared into Sarah's eyes and willed her existence to expire. “Please escort Miss Mallory off my property. I want you to ensure that she doesn’t come back. I also want to know why the fuck she’s in my kitchen in the first place.” I ended the call as Sarah sauntered towards me. She placed her hand on the granite work surface and it took a second for me to realise that she was sliding a Manilla envelope towards me.

  “I did some research on your girlfriend.” Sarah said sweetly. “I didn’t know she was a stripper.”

  “And?” I hated that Harriet took her clothes off for money, but I wasn’t going to stop her. It was her life. I knew that no one touched her. I trusted my brother to ensure her safety.

  “Oh, you knew?” Sarah's eyes widened in mock innocence. She took out a photo print of a grainy security image. I could just make out Harry's neck as it arched in pleasure. She straddled my lap. It was one of the times that we'd been too caught up in the private room to care.

  “Where did you get this?” I hissed as I snatched the photo from her.

  She fanned herself with the brown envelope. “I have ways.”

  “Cut the shit, Sarah.” I screwed up the shiny paper and threw it to the floor with force. “What do you want from me? Money? Take it.”

  “I don’t want your money.” She snivelled reaching for the lapels of my jacket. “I want you. I want us to be a family.”

  “If the baby's mine.” My fists were clenched. “If it is, I'm taking that child. They'll never know your face.”

  “You wouldn't dare.” She reared back like I’d slap
ped her. “I'll go to court.”

  “And say what?” I replied simply, without emotion. “I’ve been speaking to my lawyers. They've got footage of you breaking into my house. The security reel at the hotel shows you holding me up. I was paralytic when you took me back to the hotel room. You took advantage. Intentionally or not. Sarah, you don’t have a leg to stand on.”

  Her face flushed a deep puce and her lips thinned until they were a line on her face. “It’s your baby.” Sarah hissed. “You have to take care of me.”

  “Oh. I wish I could take care of you.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Though hiring a hitman is illegal in most states.”

  She paled. “You...”

  I shrugged and my eyes flickered down to her stomach. “Your pregnancy doesn’t give you a pass into my life or to my money. You need to get that through your skull.” I said slowly and delicately. “If this was a normal one night stand, I'd have given you access to all I had. You'd be a part of a future with this child, but you're not. That baby doesn’t deserve a rapist for a mother.”

  “A rapist?!” She spluttered. “What are you talking about? You were hard! You wanted it!”

  “I was unconscious!” I roared and she flinched back. She opened her mouth to respond, when Jack, the head of my security knocked on the kitchen door.

  “I’m here, Mr Gold.”

  “Can you escort Miss Mallory from the premises and ensure she doesn’t return.” I turned away from her and walked away without looking back.

  25

  I closed the front door of my apartment block behind me and turned to face the street. My breath fogged in front of and then caught when I saw him.

  Wearing a navy pea-coat and leaning against a car that looked like it cost more than my yearly tips and rent combined, was Elliot Gold.

  He was freshly shaven and his wholesome all-American look made my stomach warm. His lips twitched at a smile. An expression of longing and smug conquest covered his face. It was a look reserved just for me. Roman nose. Intense place blue eyes and hair as black as night, his colouring was the opposite of mine.

  Both quiet but in different ways. We fit together. How had I doubted him?

  Guilt curdled my stomach and Elliot reached forward when he noticed my expression fall.

  Elliot Gold reached forward and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Hey.”

  “How was New York?”

  “Cold.” He said gruffly.

  I found myself smiling despite the self-hatred that licked at my insides and joined the guilt like an old friend.

  “I thought we could drive up to Shreveport and do some Christmas shopping?” Elliot said, he wrapped his arms around me and I buried into his warmth. “I checked. It's your day off. Unless you needed to see your mother.”

  I shook my head at his question. “I’d love to go.” I whispered.

  Elliot led me to his car and opened the door for me before getting in on the driver’s side.

  There was an emblem embedded in the leather seats and on the steering wheel. I recognised it, but I couldn’t place from where.

  “What kind of car is this?” I asked.

  “Jaguar.” Elliot said as we pulled out onto the road.

  “That’s not the Jaguar logo.” I pointed to the emblem on the steering wheel.

  “Don’t you recognise the Gold family crest?” He replied with a wry smile. “It’s on the clock tower over the church.”

  I nodded in agreement but didn’t want to admit that I hadn’t gone to mass in years. Gilly Thompson wasn’t big on Jesus.

  Speaking of Mama...

  “I wasn’t a match. I can't donate part of my liver.” I said, the emotion in my voice was inscrutable. Even I didn’t know how I felt about that. Numb. Confused. Guilty.

  “At least it takes the decision out of your hands.” Elliot said. “What does that mean for Gilly?”

  “The doctor said that it meant she wasn’t my mother. Biologically.” I explained. My lip twisted and the mood in the car had darkened.

  Elliot reached over the centre console and took my hand. He threaded his fingers with mine.

  “Let’s just focus on having some fun today. Nothing can touch us. No one else exists.” Elliot rubbed his thumb across the palm of my hand.

  “Agreed.” My answering smile was eager to heed his words.

  “I'm not sitting on a Mall Santa's lap.” Elliot said as we stood in line for the grotto. I ignored him and pointed to a woman at the front of the line.

  “Look!” I said in a low voice.

  “Is that...?” His brow furrowed in confusion.

  “I heard that photos of your pets with Santa is a big thing now.” I explained.

  “Did she have to match her outfit? Why is a miniature poodle wearing a pink sports jacket anyway?”

  The line moved forward. “She’s painted their nails to match.” I whispered as we got closer.

  “My mother would do this with Mr. Pringle.” Elliot pinched the bridge of his nose as if exasperated by the woman.

  “Mr. Pringle?”

  “Her favourite Pomeranian.” He explained.

  “You should get her a voucher for a photo shoot for Christmas.” I suggested. “They could wear matching sweaters.”

  Elliot shook his head. “You didn’t see the photos in the entrance hall, did you?”

  “I wasn’t paying attention.” I admitted.

  “Let’s just say, Marcella Gold loves themed photoshoots.” He shuddered.

  We reached the front of the cue and a teenager dressed as an elf hooked the velvet rope in front of us.

  “Are you going in together or separately?” The elf asked.

  I smiled devilishly. “Santa’s got two knees.” I winked. “Together.”

  Elliot opened his mouth to argue before he closed it and shook his head indulgently.

  “You did not ask Santa for a Sybian for Christmas.” I slapped Elliot's chest as we walked to the food court.

  Elliot shrugged. His expression stoic. “I have a guest room that needs decorating.”

  “With sex furniture?” I bit back, unable to contain my laughter.

  “I should ask how you know what a Sybian is, but I can guess.” Elliot drawled as he looked me up and down. “Do I need to check your internet history?”

  “I still can’t believe you asked Santa that with a straight face.” I shook my head.

  “What do you want to eat?” Elliot asked as we got to the food court.

  “Mexican.” I replied, as my stomach growled in response. We got our food and took a seat in the corner.

  I dug into my burrito with gusto. Elliot watched me with a curious expression.

  “What?” I wiped my mouth with a napkin.

  “Will you come to Mistletoe Day with me?” Elliot asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “It's a Christmas Fair that Mom holds at the Gold Manor. Carolling. Mulled wine. Christmas gifts.” Elliot explained. “Will you be my date?”

  I felt my expression soften. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay.” He said.

  “Sarah was at your house.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “She made it look like we slept together.” He said without emotion.

  My mouth went dry. “I believed her.”

  His silence was deafening.

  “You should know. Before you ask me to be your date or whatever this is... For a second, I believed her. Even after all that you said. I was hurt when I found her in your house like that.”

  “It’s hard to be rational when you’re angry.” Elliot lifted his can of coke and took a sip.

  “I’m sorry.” I whispered. “It’s really difficult for me. Sarah Mallory belongs in your world. I’m really happy for you, Elliot. You’re gonna be a daddy.” My smile was watery and sad.

  “I don’t want to be.” Elliot’s voice held no emotion.

  “But you are.” I said, adamantly. My shoulders squ
ared. Regardless of if Elliot and I were in a relationship or not, Sarah Mallory was pregnant.

  “That’s a fucking cop-out.” Elliot snarled. “I don’t remember being with her. I woke up naked in a hotel room whilst she bragged on the phone. To her husband.” He exhaled a breath and his voice took on manic energy as if he was uncertain about whether I would believe him or not. “She raped me.”

  I didn’t understand the whys. The how’s. The what’s. All I knew was the brokenness in his voice. The defeat. The expectation that I wouldn't believe him.

  Worse still was the powerlessness. I knew it well. I had lived it and breathed it.

  He jumped in surprise when he felt my arms wrap around his body. I leant forward in my seat, cupped the back of his head and held his body to mine.

  His entire body trembled and I stroked his hair.

  “I believe you.” I whispered. I felt his tears as they saturated my shoulder.

  “I believe you.” I repeated. “It’s not your fault.”

  We had two bachelor parties booked, on a Wednesday night, which meant that the Pink Sleeve was busier than normal.

  I was getting better at the pole, which came with practice. Scarlett and Bailey helped me and had taught me some moves. My tips for the stage performance were better than ever.

  Missy came over and told me that I’d been booked for a private dance, which wasn’t unusual. Everything was stereotypically normal in the life of someone how took their clothes off for money.

  I wore my favourite underwear set. It was a black bra in a see-through mesh decorated with lace flowers that covered my nipples. The thong bottoms were the same, but the lace flowers covered my lady bits. I slipped into the private room and clicked the door shut behind me. I turned around and nodded to the bouncer on the corner and then dropped my attention to the person who had booked my private dance.

  Daniel Davis.

  I did not want to dance for the bearded man. He made my skin turn to gooseflesh and I remembered how he'd taken my hand and placed it on top of his crotch and implied that I should pay him back sexually.

  I glanced at the camera. Davis would be out in a second if I told Julian. But I knew the loan shark wouldn’t leave me alone.