The Billionaire and the Bad Girl

by Bella Love-Wins

  Thinking back now. I don’t know why I put up such a fuss about going to the city tonight. Explaining the details to Liam was clear enough, so why did I feel she needed to be there to pass the same information along to Craig? Our trip to Manhattan won’t affect our ability to attend the wedding either. We can be back in the Hamptons by midnight, depending on how much time Craig needs us to stick around. Sure, we’ll miss part of tonight’s reception, but it’s attending the wedding that matters most, and that’s not until two in the afternoon tomorrow.

  I wish I can blindly lay blame on my mother, but I probably owe her an apology.

  Because this time, it’s all on me.

  20

  Liam

  I felt for Vanessa while she opened up to me about her family before her mother showed up at my hotel door. She took the time to tell me about her grandmother and how close they were. I get it. What she went through affected her deeply. It’s her story, so if it means something to her, it also does to me.

  But.

  Yes, there’s a ‘but’ coming.

  I have zero regrets for calling Vanessa out about her mommy issues. Her mother was away a lot, and left some of the child-minding responsibilities to her father, who was around the home full time. It’s not my place to judge, but fuck, does she realize how bad others had it? Vanessa was and still is surrounded by people who love her. She wasn’t raised by an addict or someone with psychological issues. She wasn’t physically or verbally abused. She wasn’t sold into the child sex trade or left to fend for herself. She didn’t grow up with a target on her back.

  And does she have a clue what kind of realities she’ll face when she meets my parents? Or my father, a real-life mob boss? Sure, during my childhood they played ultra-traditional roles. Mom was the homemaker, and Dad was the breadwinner who laid down the law. But that’s where the tradition ended. I should tell her how it was for me. I was taught how to use and maintain a firearm before I turned eight. I saw how Dad’s men swept a room for listening devices before every conversation. We had more guns and ammunition in my basement than an NRA chapter and probably more than the armory of some small countries. And there were times I’d walk into a room literally filled with brown bags containing stacks of cash, mostly from illegal gambling, before it was stashed behind fake walls or laundered through any one of my relatives’ legitimate-looking businesses. I won’t even get into the physical violence I witnessed when my father had to discipline his men.

  Perspective.

  That’s something I can give to this woman, but I keep it to myself because my gut tells me she’s about to get a sneak peek of it tonight.

  After the quietest two-hour car ride in history, we arrive at my uncle’s house on Staten Island. I’m not too surprised to find my father’s Cadillac ATS-V parked in the driveway. They’re brothers in a close-knit family.

  “Let me do all the talking to start,” I tell Vanessa. “My father’s here, and that means my mother probably is too.”

  Craig opens the front door and waves us inside. “Good night, kids. Want to tell me why you’re here so late?”

  “There’s been a… development.”

  “Let’s have this conversation in the back. Come on in. Vanessa, how are you? Have you met Liam’s parents?”

  “Not yet. Mr. O’Sullivan.”

  “Please, it’s Craig. Keller’s in the study, but come with me.” He leads us to the kitchen. “Iona, this is Vanessa.”

  “Oh! From the papers! Look at you. You’re even prettier in person.” Wiping her hands on her apron, my mother leaves her spot at the stove—God knows what she’s cooking at this time of night—and pulls Vanessa in for a tight hug. “It’s good to finally meet you!”

  “Hi Ma,” I greet her while they’re still in an embrace.

  Ma rolls her eyes at me as she pulls away, but lifts a hand to my face and cups my cheek. “I’m not happy that you didn’t bring your girl to meet me. I have to see you two in the papers like I’m some stranger.” She hums and haws, but it’s all for show. She’s glad that we’re here.

  Craig motions for us to go to the study while Vanessa and my mother are getting to know each other.

  “Hey Pops,” I say to my father, who’s seated in an armchair close to the door.

  “How have you been, kid?” he asks, although I just saw both my parents less than two weeks ago.

  “Good.”

  Craig takes a seat, inviting me to do the same. “What’s going on?”

  I spend a few minutes relaying the same high points that Vanessa shared with me. The thing is, my heated reaction to Vanessa earlier is worlds apart from his lukewarm frown. Craig and my father exchange a look.

  “What did I tell you? I knew they’d figure it out,” my father mutters to his brother. “You can’t slip anything past lawyers or accountants.”

  I look back and forth between them. “You knew. What were the two of you up to?”

  Craig leans forward, lowering his head to his hands. “It’s a long, complicated story, but in a nutshell, I know all about the eighteen locations where the Wainwright owners got a little creative with the valuations.”

  I don’t fucking believe this. “You know you were being screwed?”

  “No. Pelham and I are on the same side. We have a back-pocket licensing arrangement. I won’t get into specifics, but they involve four facilities in Vegas and eight online sites. Look, the less you and your girlfriend know, the better. Just let Diane know that I don’t have a problem with the current valuations. I’m eager to sign.”

  A side deal in Vegas can only mean Craig is up to some form of illegal gambling or a gray area. Plus, Pops knows about it too. Craig’s right. I don’t know what they’re up to, and I don’t want to know.

  “We need to get going,” I announce, making my way out to find Vanessa. At the last moment, I turn around to add, “Find yourself a new firm to represent you. I won’t mention this to Vanessa or Diane, but I also won’t let you implicate their law firm in whatever scheme you’re up to.”

  Vanessa looks over at me from the passenger seat as I drive through the Staten Island suburbs toward the highway. “That was fast. What did he say?”

  “On Monday, O’Sullivan Entertainment will be parting ways with your law firm.”

  “What? Why?” she demands.

  “No, it’s not like that. Craig’s not firing you. You’re protecting yourself by distancing yourself from him. It’s for the best.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Your mother will.”

  She stares forward again, shaking her head. “Do you realize how patronizing you sound right now?” I’m sure she has more to say, but a text buzzes through on her phone that’s sitting in the cup holder. She ignores it at first. As soon as the buzzing stops, it rings with a phone call. “Hang on a second. It’s my brother. What’s up, Dylan?” she answers. “I have you on speaker. I’m with Liam.”

  “Hey there, you two. What’s shaking?” Dylan asks, his tone more upbeat than I’ve heard in a while.

  “Not much. Did you talk to Mom?”

  “No. Something wrong? Emily was getting a little worried. Where are you?”

  “On our way back to the reception. We needed to take care of some business.”

  “Okay, no problem. I’ll let her know.”

  “How’s the party going?”

  “Pretty good. By the way, Emily and I set a date. October seventh.”

  “That’s great! Congrats. This year or next?”

  “In less than four months. Anyway, we’ll talk some more after this weekend’s up. Wait a second. Mom’s here. She wants to talk to you. Hold on.”

  “Vanessa?” Mom calls my name in a question.

  “Hi Diane. Liam’s on speaker.”

  “Great. Did you talk to Craig?”

  “Liam did.”

  “Does he know how he’d like to proceed?”

  “Yes. He wants to continue with the acquisition. Diane, I suggested to Vanes
sa that it’ll be best if Craig finds a new law firm to complete the rest of this deal.”

  “Is there a reason for your recommendation?”

  “Because it’s possible that Marty Pelham and Craig have jointly acted in bad faith against your firm.”

  “I see. Thanks for passing this information along. I’ll have my assistant provide a few referrals with the paperwork.”

  “Great.”

  “Enjoy the rest of your nights.”

  “That went smoothly,” Vanessa says absently to herself after hanging up.

  “It did.”

  “And Emily’s really going through with the wedding. Good for them.” Then she turns to look at me. “What was I saying? Oh, right. You were patronizing me.”

  “I don’t mean to. Let me put it another way. You’re an attorney, an officer of the court. It’s better if you don’t have to wade through an ethical dilemma, all because you got wind of facts you shouldn’t know about in the first place. Just trust me on this one.”

  “Are you saying you and your family are still—”

  “Me, no. That’s what you need to understand. I’ve spent my entire adult life making my own way. I love my parents. But don’t mistake love for blind loyalty. There’s a reason I built the business incubator from the ground up. I started with nothing, and what’s more important is I didn’t accept a penny of financial help from my father. That’s because what they say about the life is true. Once you’re in, you can never fucking leave.”

  “I think I understand now. Thanks for explaining.”

  “Diane’s up to speed too, so the worst is behind us. Don’t worry about Craig. He’ll figure things out.”

  “All right. I’m sorry about earlier, for letting you down.”

  “You didn’t. We talked, we disagreed, but you still made it out here. Tell me something. Do you have anything you’d like to say to Diane?”

  Vanessa faces forward again. “I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. I’m not sure if my relationship with her can change overnight…I understand where you’re going with this, okay? I can swallow my pride and put a little more faith in her professional judgment.”

  “Good.”

  She looks over at me with a more playful, relaxed expression. “But try not to push your luck, because I don’t like ‘Liam, the voice of reason’ all that much.”

  I reach over and rest a hand on her knee, giving it a squeeze. “Give it time. You’ll get used to him.”

  As we drive back to the Hamptons, I can picture how the day will be tomorrow. I’ll gaze at the front of the chapel as the love-dazed couple arrives at the altar. The bride will be stunning, but I won’t be able to stop staring at the dazzling bridesmaid in a dress that lights up her eyes. I told the world Vanessa was mine before she was ready to accept it for herself. Here we are less than a month later, and she’s stopped denying what’s right in front of her.

  Silence will fall around the room and the priest will clear his throat and address the couple. I’ve been to a lot of weddings. It’s always the usual spiel, joining two people in marriage, two people becoming one and all those words I’ve tuned out many times before. Tomorrow, I’ll pay more attention because I have a good reason. One day not too far from now, I plan to be right where Jackson will be standing, and it’ll be with Vanessa at my side.

  Epilogue – Liam

  Five Months Later

  “Get into bed and keep your high heels on.”

  Vanessa’s back in town after not seeing me for three weeks. We got reacquainted at my front door, and on the kitchen counter when she went in there to find me a drink. I want her again, now that we’ve made it to the bedroom, but two items need to be checked off my list before I fuck her again tonight.

  Heading to my closet, I dig around in my work bag, find what I’m looking for, and climb into bed, one hand behind my back.

  “Did you miss me?” she asks.

  “You should have the answer to that from the way I accosted you at my front door, sexy.” Straddling her legs, I gaze down into her eyes. She won’t see this coming, but I’m ready to do whatever’s necessary. Vanessa’s mine and that’s not going to change. Ever.

  I bring my arm out from behind my back. Her eyes widen, and her jaw slackens when she sees the velvet ring box in my hand. Her breath catches in her throat as I open it to show her the European cut diamond set in a yellow gold, vintage engagement ring. It suits her perfectly, and I made sure of that by customizing the ring to match her grandmother’s locket.

  “Oh my God, Liam, is that—”

  “Yes,” I answer, cutting her off. “You’re marrying me.”

  Vanessa nods and sticks out her left hand. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you too.”

  She beams as I slip the ring onto her finger, eyes bouncing back and forth between my face and her hand. “Yes, I’ll marry you, baby.”

  “I wasn’t asking,” I say with a straight face. “There’s something else in there. Take a look.”

  “Really? What?” She eases the box out of my hand and lifts the ring holder. Then she sees it. Her eyes quickly fill with tears. It’s a photo of the two of us, treated in sepia and minimized to fit inside her locket. There’s already a photo of her grandmother on one side, and now she can keep this picture of us just as close. “Oh, Liam. It’s…God, it’s perfect.”

  “I’ll help you put the picture inside, but you need to keep the locket off.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t plan to be gentle with you the rest of the night.”

  Or ever.

  The End

  Bonus - Sneak Peek Preview

  The Bet: A Billionaire Bad Boys Romance

  Bella Love-Wins

  (Complete Story Coming Fall 2017)

  1

  Max stepped out from one of the club’s private rooms, straightening the cuffs of his tailored shirt before heading to the smoking room to relax. He didn’t so much as cast a backward glance at the three stunning young ladies who were in the final stages of putting themselves back together after their fun in the king-size bed.

  Normally he wouldn’t have relied on call girls, no matter how sexy or skilled they were. He didn’t exactly have trouble finding women on his own. Tonight he didn’t have the time or patience to go through the motions society dictated. He didn’t even crave the chase. He’d wanted to get off. Multiple times. Which he had, as did the three ladies still in the room. Three was the perfect number in this case. Blonde was on her knees with Max’s cock in her mouth half the time, while Redhead rode his hand and Brunette took turns kissing him and playing on Redhead’s breasts. Maybe four would be fun for next time.

  A noise from the hall drew his attention. He glanced over in time to see the three beautiful girls walking past, on their way out. He hoped that after paying them a few thousand dollars each they could afford to take it easy for the rest of the night. They’d earned it.

  He lit his Stradavarius Churchill cigar, enjoying the cloud of hazy smoke in which he was soon enveloped. He only smoked while he was here, at the club—otherwise he hated the habit and loathed the smell of regular cigarette smoke on others. He’d been thrilled when the city had banned smoking in public establishments. Of course, the club didn’t fall under the umbrella of such a law.

  He took turns between his stogie and his whiskey, the amber liquid burning a trail down his throat. To his left was the floor to ceiling wall of tinted glass windows, which were usually covered by stately burgundy velvet drapes, but tonight they had been left open by one of the help on the request of one of Max’s friends.

  In the distance, the flickering Manhattan city lights sparkled and teased the dark, moonless sky. The tiny waves of the Hudson River suggested a less windy night tonight. It was quiet in here for a change. He guessed the rest of the men were busy at their game at the billiards tables. They knew his habits well enough to know where to find him if they needed him.

  One of the scantily clad female servers slipped
in through the open mahogany doors with a tray of drinks, probably for the men.

  “Sorry to bother you, Mr. Hendrick,” said the sexy brunette. Every server in this establishment was gorgeous and refined, but he always took note of the exquisite ones, like Brunette here. He would have been affected by those sky blue eyes, ample cleavage and long legs if he hadn’t already been sated just minutes ago. She had plump lips too, the kind he liked to see wrapped around his shaft every so often. The sky high stilettos and slinky black micro dress didn’t hurt either.

  “Yes?”

  “Mr. Neville asked me to deliver this drink to you.”

  “Is it my favorite?”

  “It is, sir. Extra dry, extra cold, rocks glass, three rocks, one olive. Prepared less than a minute ago.”

  He raised his eyebrows and accepted the drink. “Perfect. Send him my regards.”

  An image on the sixty-inch plasma screen TV along one wall of the room caught Max’s eye just then. Picking up the remote, he rewound the DVR and replayed the news piece with the volume turned up.

  “Twenty-three year-old Katherine McKinnon was arrested tonight after a daring break-in and attempted robbery in the Upper East Side. The young woman is charged with theft and second-degree murder in connection with the death of 78-year old Stanford Regent, millionaire CEO and owner of the popular Regent chain of retail stores. The body was discovered by the deceased’s wife, Millicent, whose description of the accused led to the arrest. Mrs. Regent reported seeing McKinnon fleeing the scene. It is reported that some of the valuables missing from the Regent mansion were found on the accused at the time of her arrest.”

  The words only vaguely filtered through Max’s consciousness. He was more interested in the face that filled the screen. He hit ‘pause’, freezing the close-up image. For a suspected thief and a murderer, she was astoundingly gorgeous. Long, honey-blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail over one shoulder. Light hazel eyes with hints of green that reminded Max of peridot. Young, slim, perfectly balanced features.