by Anise Storm
He’d yet to fully process that Hannah had not only left him and his company, but she had also done so to be with his nemesis, Finley Wetherall. It shouldn’t have surprised him the man would try to steal his woman, and his business. After all, the man had been relentlessly pursuing anything Thaddeus cared about for as long as he could remember.
Sending a woman, of all things, into his company to spy on him was a new low, even for Wetherall. The man had made a convincing show of being blindsided by Hannah’s duplicity, but Thaddeus understood never to underestimate him. Maybe the entire scene had been a set-up and Finley and Hannah had gone home together to celebrate after he’d staggered out of the bar.
Just the thought of that snake with his hands all over her filled him with anger. Hannah was his. Or at least I thought she was.
Thaddeus tried to remember back to the night in the elevator a few weeks before. Now it was clear why she wouldn’t sleep with him. She must have realized Tucker International was about to land the account. She hadn’t expected to see him there. After she had, Hannah had fled like she’d become so good at doing.
What he’d mistaken for confusion on her part was guilt. She must have thought he’d connected the pieces and had known what she was up to. His kiss in the elevator must have really surprised her, because she’d felt what he had in the moment. After her body had melded against his and she’d returned the kiss with the same need he’d felt, it had been an honest reaction. No one was that good an actress, including Hannah.
She’d been aroused. Another minute longer and he would have had her in his room and back in his bed. After he had seen her again, all he’d wanted to do was tie her to the bedpost so she couldn’t leave him then touch every inch of her body until she remembered who she belonged to. Even spitting fire, she couldn’t deny the truth.
Their last time together had permanently ingrained itself into his memory. Jealousy had fueled the way he’d taken her while in that bathroom. Subconsciously, he’d known she wasn’t interested in William Breaston, but just witnessing the simplest and most innocent of touches on her had had him literally seeing red. While there had been nothing there, the same couldn’t be said about Hannah and Finley Wetherall. It had been pure torture finding her in his arms and understanding she’d slept with Wetherall, allowing him to fuck her and claim what was Thaddeus’, was more than he could rationalize.
“Snap the fuck out of it, son,” a loud voice boomed from the doorway.
Scowling, Thaddeus looked up at his grandfather as Arthur walked in and sat down. He didn’t feel like arguing with the old man today, of all days. “Now isn’t a good time. Say what the hell you came to say, then get lost.”
“You’d do best to remember who you’re talking to, boy.” Arthur Remington sneered. The ice in the man’s veins was easily detected in his voice. “So you fucked up again and let another few million slip through your hands. I’m really starting to question your—”
Thaddeus didn’t give him time to finish. He’d heard enough of this over the last few months. Knowing that his grandfather had a point, albeit a very small one, had his blood boiling more. Since his grandfather had wanted to step into his office and rant, he’d let him have it.
“Yes, I lost the Anderson account, even though I did everything possible to secure it,” he started. “And you know what? I’ll lose another account and maybe even another after that. It’s called business, and you’d do best to stay the fuck out of mine.”
Arthur opened his mouth and Thaddeus continued before the old man could utter a single word. “You want me to drop my pursuit of Hannah? Go ahead and celebrate, because I plan to do that and more. Tucker International has fucked with the wrong person this time. I won’t stop until I destroy that company and everyone in it.”
His grandfather looked shocked, but then his wrinkled cheeks dimpled as he smiled. “Welcome back, son. I’m glad to see your fire has returned,” he said then stood up.
Thaddeus hadn’t realized it until now, but he had been missing a certain spark that kept him at the top of his game. In business, there was no room for weakness of any kind, and while he’d been pining after a woman who had ultimately duped him—and in the worst possible way—weak was exactly what he’d become.
“Before I leave, let me give you the name of a fella I’ve done business with before at the Bureau.” His grandfather fished a business card from inside of his wallet and handed it to him. “Give Benny a call if you get a chance. He’s ex-FBI but very efficient at gathering information that could come in handy during an investigation. If you’re smart, son, you’ll use it.”
Thaddeus could only guess the type of business Benny handled for his grandfather, but he’d at least consider consulting with the investigator. His primary focus was now where it should’ve been all along, and that was Remington Industries.
“Thanks,” he told his grandfather as he made his way to the door. Once there, he paused after opening it.
“You should give me Barbara’s number,” Arthur told him, but looking at his secretary.
Shaking his head in amusement, he chuckled. “I think she’s married or with someone, Grandfather. She’s not full-time, so I don’t really know her all that well.”
A familiar twinkle appeared in Arthur’s eyes. “You should know that type of relationship status is not a deterrent to me. You’d be surprised at how many windows I had to jump from or closets I had to hide in at your age, son. Take one more piece of advice from me.”
“What is that?” he asked, wondering whether he actually wanted to know.
“It’s easier to buy a condo to lure your mistresses to. There’s much more pleasurable things one can do there if the women isn’t worried about interruptions.” With those words, he exited the office.
Thaddeus shook his head and watched the man try to run his game on Barbara Steiner. His grandfather was something else, but when the sound of his current part-time secretary’s laughter filtered into his office, he rose from his seat then crossed the room. Shutting the door, he walked back to his desk and picked up the card. He turned it over a few times in his palm then sat down.
Picking up the phone, he dialed the number and waited a few rings before a man’s deep baritone voice came through the speaker.
“Hello.”
“Mr. Dixon,” he began, “my name is Thaddeus Remington, and my grandfather, Arthur, gave me your number. I have a small problem I’m hoping you can help me with.”
Chapter Sixteen
Hannah had been in Chicago for a few weeks now. Luckily, what had begun to be a temporary fix was turning into a permanent job at Tucker Industries, so she guessed she’d be in the Windy City for a while. Each day seemed just a little easier than the one before. She had yet to fully rid her head of thoughts about Thaddeus Remington and Finley Wetherall, but throwing herself into her work helped. Tucker International had done everything that Brian had promised and more. They had not only set her up in a luxurious corporate apartment with views of Lake Michigan, but they had also given her a stipend for transportation expenses.
She’d thought about finally buying herself a car, but she had gone so long without one that she didn’t see the need. The entire time she’d lived in Atlanta and London she’d been fine with local transportation and decided she’d be fine with it here in Chicago, too. The weather was colder than she was used to in Plano, but it was comparable to what she’d experienced in London. Hopefully, in a few days, the groundhog wouldn’t see his shadow, which would signal spring was on its way.
Everything hadn’t been smooth sailing for her since her arrival back in the United States, though. About a week after she’d started in the local office, she had been visited by two men from the FBI. Hannah had never had even a speeding ticket, so to say she was scared while being interrogated would’ve been an understatement. They’d asked questions about people, many of whom she had dealt with directly in the course of either business at Tucker International or Remington Industries. She was eve
n asked about classified information she may have had access to a few times while helping Finley with Wetherall Communications’ business.
Bastards! She should have known the accusations the men had spewed that fateful night had been what had driven the investigation on her. What she had thought were loosely veiled threats turned out to be promises. Hannah still remembered returning to her apartment the night of the first interrogation, immediately looking up companies that had been found to have employed corporate spies. The corporation themselves had received hefty fines and some of the people involved had even gotten jail time.
Despite how bad it looked, she had nothing to hide. Up until that one night, she hadn’t even known Thaddeus and Finley had known each other. But, that was obvious now, and after she had also run a few searches on the companies themselves, multiple stories about their feuds had spilled forth like water from an overturned cup.
How could I have missed all of this? That seemed to be the million-dollar question and one she’d had since having been asked by half a dozen investigators. Hannah was very green when it came to these types of things. She thought if she did a good job with the work presented that she, too, might find some semblance of success in her own career. Of course, her job duties didn’t include sleeping with her boss or his competition.
It all sounded so crude when put like that, but it was the truth. They had words for that type of woman, and it tore her up inside to know that two men she cared so deeply about believed those things to be true.
Thaddeus Remington had connected dots that didn’t exist, somehow convincing himself she’d knelt at his feet in some elaborate plot to destroy him. Knowing she’d placed her trust in him and he couldn’t, for once, put his in her, hurt her deeper than she cared to admit. There was a bond between a Dominant and his submissive, and Hannah used to think it meant something.
It hadn’t to Thaddeus, and it sure as hell didn’t to Finley Wetherall, either. His automatic distrust of her was even more painful to handle. Besides the obvious Dominant and submissive bond, there had been an underlying friendship that she felt had earned her the benefit of the doubt. If she had been sent there to spy on him for Thaddeus or whoever else, then why hadn’t she accepted a job with Wetherall Communications at the time he’d offered her one, more than once?
Nothing about this whole situation made sense. Hannah wasn’t even the primary secretary who’d worked on the Anderson account. Stanley Pritchard was the one who had handled everything outside of the filing of the paperwork, setting up appointments and hand-delivering the proposal to Ronald Anderson. She’d just learned from one of the investigators this afternoon that her signature had ended up on some highly classified and incriminating evidence. The stacked deck was getting taller, and she was starting to lose hope she’d be exonerated.
“I don’t understand any of it,” she said as she paced around her small office. There had to have been some mistake. She had even been presented with the proof from a handwriting analyst that showed without a doubt the signature was indeed hers.
Hannah racked her brain, trying to figure out when she would have had access to the documents and how she would’ve just signed something without even checking what it was.
“What don’t you understand, Miss Brinkley?” Derek asked, stopping in front of her office door.
Hannah looked at the middle-aged man and forced herself to smile. She already understood the stream of government officials entering and leaving her office appeared bad. She didn’t want to raise suspicions any more than they’d already been. “The weather, sir. Yesterday was actually warm, compared to today. I just can’t understand how the temperature fluctuates so much here. In Texas, there was only warm and hot.”
He chuckled then pulled his jacket together. “Welcome to the Midwest. The predictions for tonight call for about a foot of snow, so if I were you, I’d wrap things up here and head home before it really starts to come down.”
“I will. I just need to finish something. Have a good night, sir.” After he exited, she went back to her desk then took a seat.
Hannah had to figure out what was going on. Derek had been the last one at the office. Now that he was gone, it would give her a chance to scrutinize some of the last few things she’d worked on. She wasn’t sure how fruitful her effort would be, but at least it was a start.
She turned on her laptop then started pulling up the electronic copies of the proposals. Like she figured, there were no sightings of her name anywhere. Hannah flipped through page after page, then got to the Anderson file. Scrolling through the documents, one of them had her signature. She still couldn’t understand how, though.
Dropping her head into her hands, she felt the early signs of a migraine forming. The considerable amount of stress she found herself under was having an adverse effect on her health. In addition to the flare-up of headaches, she was barely eating and had even lost ten pounds. She couldn’t sleep at night, either. It was a wonder she could even function, since she acted on constant autopilot.
Hannah would only feel better if she got answers. She had no choice. She couldn’t sit there and dwell on fractured relationships. Right now, she was in the fight of her life just to preserve her freedom. “There’s got to be something I’m missing. What is it?”
Her cell phone vibrated, signaling an incoming text message. Opening it, she saw that the notification was for a winter storm warning issued for Cook County. Derek had been right. She had better get home before it really started coming down.
Shutting down her laptop, she made sure everything in her office was secured and locked away then grabbed her coat and purse. She placed a call to the front desk to arrange for a cab then she waited for it. There was no way she was walking home in this mess. After they called her back to let her know the ride had arrived, she turned off the lights and hurried downstairs. A sense of foreboding swept over her when she stepped outside but she ignored it, getting into the backseat of the yellow car with a blue checkboard pattern on the sides.
Hannah gave the man her address then sat back, watching the falling snow start to accumulate on the ground outside. A few minutes later, the vehicle arrived at the front of her apartment building. She settled her tab then stepped out of the cab. The doorman rushed to the door, holding it open for her, and she smiled politely as she walked briskly toward the elevator bank.
Chapter Seventeen
Hannah stood beside the microwave while she heated up one of those frozen dinners. They didn’t taste very good, but neither did anything else she attempted to fix these days. On edge and, frankly, terrified of what might happen to her, she barely slept, much less ate anything.
The news was playing in the background, and it talked about much of the same. Besides horrible weather and crime, the rest of the broadcast focused on sports from the Bears, who once again hadn’t made the playoffs, to the Bulls, who were hoping to make a playoff push before the All-Star break.
The microwave beeped when the time expired, and she slowly pulled the macaroni and cheese from inside. She peeled back the thin paper layer on top and was about to grab a spoon when she heard a name she had honestly gotten tired of hearing.
“And in celebrity news, lingerie supermodel Brenda Cole was recently seen on the arm of millionaire businessman Thaddeus Remington. Sources say the pair have been spotted together multiple times and…” The newscaster rattled on.
Looking at the television was a bad idea, but she still couldn’t stop herself from going back into the living room and rewinding the story. Sure enough, it was her ex-Dominant with another blonde beauty on his arm. Hannah paused the show and looked at him.
Thaddeus was so incredibly sexy, especially dressed to the nines in one of those custom suits he often wore at Remington Industries. Even now, Hannah could remember glancing at him longingly while he moved about the office. A few times she’d had to force herself to focus on something else so he wouldn’t catch her staring. Now, in the privacy of her own apartment, she could
look at his image, close her eyes and swear she could hear the deep rasp of his voice or smell his cologne. Where it used to be absolutely intoxicating, the pain he now invoked was suffocating.
Hannah could see why the beautiful supermodel was so enamored with him. For a while, she had been, too. If Hannah were being truly honest, a part of her still was. Deep down, she still carried around a piece of him in her heart, but it shattered apart the longer she studied him. The two looked so happy together. Brenda was looking up at him while he stared down at her and smiled.
And it wasn’t the type of smile one would give casually, in passing. It was wicked, holding a bevy of intentions behind it. Months ago, the promise behind that smile would have had Hannah’s panties drenched.
Hannah had often imagined herself in the place of other women. They had all been fantasies, however, yet knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less. Her eyes grew watery, and she felt the first tear drop then slide down her cheek, warming it in the process. Every dream she’d harbored of the two of them together crashed and burned, much like she would if both he and Finley had their ways.
Bastards! The both of you. Hannah wiped the moisture off her cheeks and forced herself to turn off the television. How could everything have gone so wrong for her? She’d found two men who she loved in such different ways, then lost both so suddenly.
A sob escaped and the tears formed once more. Sitting there crying over men who obviously believed the absolute worst of her was not productive. Hannah needed to figure out who, if anyone, inside of Tucker International could have had access to either Wetherall Communications or Remington Industries information.
She was the most logical suspect but, even though it looked bad for her, she still held on to the hope the truth would set her free. She would never sabotage either man. Part of her still loved them both so much. She was a submissive, for fuck’s sake. Why would they ever think I’d hurt them—and in this way? How could they? Those seemed to be the biggest questions and ones she now was even more resolved to find the answers to.
