“What do you want, Mr. Gauthier?”
I rubbed at my chin, my eyes tracking her face. Now I’d taken a closer look, she did seem tired. Those dark circles beneath her eyes, and the slightly pale tinge to her skin, not to mention the bow of her shoulders, all lending themselves to a note of exhaustion.
“I think we’ve established that, Miss Landry.” I removed an envelope from the inside pocket of my jacket and tossed it on the desk. “I’ve added another ten percent to the offer, but it only stands for twenty-four hours.”
She stared at it but left it where it’d fallen. Her teeth grazed her bottom lip, and her green eyes dulled.
I held my breath, sensing her indecision.
Shit. She was going to cave.
I’d won.
Strangely, though, the realization didn’t bring the usual flush of pleasure, the buzz of winning. Instead, an odd sense of dismay took root in my chest.
“And if I don’t accept,” she said, pulling my attention back to her and off my unusual, and frankly, unwelcome, thoughts.
I smiled. “Don’t make an enemy of me, Miss Landry. You’re not in the least equipped for the consequences.”
The light came back into her eyes, and she glared at me with unveiled hatred. “Is that another threat? You should know by now I don’t take kindly to threats.”
I stood and came around to the other side of the desk, looming over her, using my loftier stature to add further weight to my superiority. Credit where it was due, she held her ground.
I bent my head, and the air from my breath wafted her hair. “Take it to mean whatever you wish.”
I straightened just in time to catch the remnants of a tremor race through her body, her fight-or-flight instincts in full flow.
Which would she choose, I wondered?
She turned those stunning vibrant green eyes on me once more and gave me a defiant hint of a smile. “You don’t scare me, Mr. Gauthier.”
I licked the underside of my top teeth. “No? Then I’ll have to try harder, Miss Landry, won’t I?”
Leaving her with that thought, I brushed past her, making sure my shoulder touched hers on the way out. A sizzle of electricity at the brief connection brought on a tremor of my own.
Seemed as if we’d both chosen fight.
Poor Catriona. She didn’t stand a chance. Still, the battle would be fun.
7
Catriona
Aiden and I sat in the doctor’s office waiting for our name to be called. I twiddled my thumbs, and my leg wouldn’t stop bouncing. In contrast, he sat still as a statue, his eyes closed, dark circles underneath a sure sign of his increasing exhaustion. He’d lost a lot of weight, too, when he could barely afford to considering he weighed next to nothing as it was.
The offer Gauthier had made last night, along with his not-so-veiled threat, popped into my head. I’d lied when I said he didn’t scare me. He did, very much. Something in the man’s eyes screamed danger, yet as much as my body wanted to take flight, my mind demanded I defend myself. Whatever he said, he couldn’t make me sell my studio. He had no real leverage over me, and it was important I clung to that when his threats increased, as I fully expected them to.
I had to stay strong. For me, for Grams, and for Aiden.
As my thoughts turned to my brother, I shifted in my seat, and my leg brushed his. He opened his eyes and gave me a wan smile.
“Relax, sis.”
God, I wish I could be as calm as he was. Maybe his age allowed him to act so blasé? Or perhaps he was putting on a brave face for my sake.
“Aiden Landry.”
My head snapped up, and I gestured to the nurse. I stood and held out my arm for Aiden to take. He took a step, then winced.
“Ow.”
“What’s wrong?” I said, panic leaching into my tone.
“My hip hurts a bit,” he said, limping over to the doctor’s office. “It was fine this morning.”
Fear circled in my abdomen, and my legs felt weak, as if they weren’t strong enough to hold me upright. I helped Aiden into the office and settled him in a chair, then sat in the one adjacent.
“Hi, Aiden,” Dr. Sully, our family doctor said. “How are you feeling?”
Aiden scratched his head and twisted his lips to one side. “I’m okay, I guess.”
“He’s tired,” I interjected. “He sleeps a lot, and just now he told me his hip was sore. That can’t be normal for a boy his age, surely?”
Aiden flashed me an irritated glare but didn’t correct me.
“I see.” Dr. Sully glanced down at her notes. “Right, well, we’ve gotten the test results back from the lab, and I’d like to discuss them with you both.”
I held my breath as if, by doing so, I could affect the outcome. I scanned the doctor’s face for clues, but she remained blank and professional.
“The positive news is that we have found the reason for Aiden’s extreme fatigue, and the nose bleeds you mentioned last week. This would also explain the pain in his hip.”
“And?” I prompted.
She glanced at my brother, then at me, then back to him. “Aiden, you have something called acute lymphoblastic leukemia.”
The word leukemia exploded in my brain, sending a bolt of terror rushing through me. Oh God. This was bad.
“What does that mean?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what it meant. Aiden had cancer. And cancer was a killer. I reached for his hand which felt cold and small inside mine, but when I glanced at him, he wore a determined look, his gaze fixed on the doctor and concentration drawing his brows inward.
“Well,” Dr. Sully said. “It’s a rare disease, but one we know quite a lot about. I do want to reassure you that the survival rates, particularly in children, are very good. However, the current treatments are invasive and… challenging for the patient.”
She was choosing her words carefully, but I knew what that meant. Chemotherapy, maybe radiotherapy. Blood transfusions, potential bone marrow transplants. Days, weeks, and months in and out of the hospital. Sickness. So much sickness.
“There is something I wanted to discuss with you. Aiden’s genetic makeup is the perfect candidate for an experimental treatment that some countries are starting to explore. Fueled by emerging molecular technologies, it suggests that drugs can be targeted at the specific genetic defects of leukemia cells, resulting in a much more effective treatment plan for the patient.”
Hope spiked within me. Targeted sounded good. Much more positive than the widespread scattergun approach of normal chemotherapy treatments, which meant that healthy cells were killed along with the defective cells. I was no expert, but even I knew that much.
“That’s great.” I squeezed Aiden’s hand. “Isn’t it, bro?”
He nodded in agreement, optimism bringing a pink glow to his wan cheeks.
“When can we start this experimental treatment?”
The doctor made a face. “Ah, well, there is a small issue,” she said. “We don’t have the treatment here in Canada yet. However, Switzerland are pioneers in this field, and I took the liberty of contacting one of the leading physicians of this therapy. I shared Aiden’s results with him, confidentially, of course, and he agrees he’s a perfect candidate for the program. If you’re willing, and are able to afford the fees, then he’s happy to treat Aiden.”
“Switzerland?” I whispered. So far away. “How much are the fees?”
“They’re not cheap,” she said, scrawling on a piece of paper which she pushed across her desk to me. “This is the monthly cost. Based on Aiden’s blood work, and the advice of the doctors, he’d need at least six months’ treatment, three to four of which he’ll need to undertake in Switzerland.”
I glanced down, and the blood drained from my face. Even if I sold Mom’s wedding and engagement rings and worked two extra jobs alongside running the ballet school, it wouldn’t pay for one month’s treatment, let alone six.
Robotically, I slid the piece of paper back, my chin high
. “We can’t afford this.” I reached for Aiden’s hand and wrapped my fingers around his. “Not even a fraction of this.”
She gave me a sympathetic nod. “I understand, but I felt it my duty to at least inform you of the choices available. We can, of course, treat Aiden right here in Vancouver. We have excellent medical facilities, and I promise you he will be in the very best hands.”
If Vancouver was the best place for him, then she wouldn’t have mentioned the Switzerland option.
“I’ll refer Aiden to the children’s cancer hospital, and they’ll be in touch regarding his treatment program. Try not to worry. Like I said, the recovery rates are extremely high.”
Both of us were silent on the journey home. The second I pushed open the front door and stepped inside the dim hallway, Grams took one look at my face, and hers crumpled.
As for me… I knew exactly what I had to do.
Even if it cost me everything.
8
Catriona
I spent the next few hours researching everything I could get my hands on about Aiden’s illness, determined that not one fact would escape my attention. To win any war, you had to know your opponent’s strengths and weaknesses, and in my mind, an illness was no different.
My fevered research confirmed that Switzerland was ahead of the curve with this pioneering new treatment, the physicians there considered to be at the top of their field in this particular form of innovative remedy.
I rubbed my forehead and closed my eyes, racking my brains to try to come up with a way I could afford Aiden’s hospital fees and accommodation in a country thousands of miles away, but it was pointless searching for an answer when I already knew what I had to do.
I gazed around my tiny bedroom with its crocheted bedspread made through hours of Grams’ painstaking effort, and its pale-yellow walls meant to brighten and add warmth, yet I felt chilled to the bone.
Rising to my feet, I walked over to my dresser and picked up the picture frame of my parents on their wedding day. At twenty-four, Mom had been a year younger than me in this picture. The way she gazed adoringly at my dad gave me hope that goodness existed in the world.
Just not in Garen Gauthier’s world.
I sighed and hugged the photograph to my chest. It was hopeless. I had to sell the studio to that vile, self-serving, manipulative, evil asshole who had a swinging brick in place of a heart, and no soul.
If only it didn’t have to be him. Anyone other than him. But there were no other choices. I reached into my purse and removed the envelope containing his latest offer, then grabbed a pen and started calculating costs. If I took everything into consideration including flights, accommodation, and living expenses, I estimated that Gauthier’s increased offer for the studio would fund around three months in Switzerland. Not six. But there was no point worrying about that yet. I needed to get Aiden started on his treatment and figure the rest out later.
As much as I wanted to be the one to go with Aiden, to sit by his bedside and comfort and support him through the difficult months ahead, I’d have to remain here and try to earn as much money as possible. That meant Grams would have to travel with him.
The thought of staying in Canada while the people I loved more than anything else in the world moved to another country to fight for my brother’s life brought tears to my eyes. Why did the good people suffer and the bad ones lead a charmed life?
A tap on my door brought my head up. “Come in,” I called out.
Grams poked her head inside. “I brought you a cup of tea,” she said, entering with a steaming mug of my favorite drink. I liked to think it was my Irish roots that drew me to love tea.
I set down Mom and Dad’s wedding picture and took the hot drink from her. “Thank you. Just what I needed.”
She glanced at the envelope where I’d calculated the costs for Switzerland, then picked it up. “What’s all this, girl?”
“I’m selling the studio,” I said, the resigned tone causing a hitch to my breathing. I swallowed, barely holding on to the emotions simmering beneath the surface. “I’m so sorry, Grams. I’ve tried to think of another solution, but there isn’t one.”
“Hush now,” she said, removing the mug from me before I’d even taken a sip. Setting it down on the dresser, she wrapped her arms around me. I sank against her, allowing myself a moment of weakness, and drew on her immense strength.
“It’s the right decision, Cati.” She drew back and cupped my face in her wrinkled hands. “I know it hurts, but even if this leaves us destitute, as long as we have each other, that’s all that matters.”
“Destitution doesn’t put food on the table, nor pay the rent, let alone Aiden’s medical bills,” I said, the enormity of the situation suddenly crashing over me. “Even taking every cent Gauthier is willing to pay, it still leaves us short of what Aiden needs. That’s why I’ve decided you have to go with him, and I’ll stay here to work, and make sure you both have a home to come back to.”
Grams didn’t argue, just nodded, then hugged me again. “You’re a good girl, Cati. Your parents would be so proud of the young woman you’ve grown into.”
Emotion clogged the back of my throat. My grandmother was very sparing with her praise, so for her to say such a thing meant the world.
The clock on my nightstand caught my eye, and I let out a heavy sigh. “Gauthier gave me twenty-four hours to accept his latest offer. I’d better set off. There’s a bus that stops not far from his building that leaves in thirty minutes. That should give me enough time to make his stupid deadline.”
Grams caught my wrist. “Stay calm, Catriona. Remember, the fiery Irish spirit runs in your veins, but sometimes we need to put a cork in it. Now is one of these times. Pride comes before a fall. Don’t give him the satisfaction of falling.”
My grandmother was a very wise woman. I’d do well to heed her advice, even if it turned out to be the hardest thing I’d ever done.
I read over the contract once more, my heart breaking at the clause that mentioned that once I signed, I’d get two days to clear out my things, but that the business had to close immediately. A glance at my calendar showed full classes for the next week. My throat thickened. My students, my kids. How could I hold it together in the face of their disappointment? At least there was one saving grace: Ammaline’s invitation to RAD was already in the bag. She’d miss out on a few lessons, but that wouldn’t change the offer. I could talk her through some exercises she could do at home to keep her limber and supple.
But my other kids… God, this was awful. There wasn’t another ballet school within a forty-mile radius, and most parents couldn’t afford the time to travel that far just for a ballet lesson.
And all because that bastard billionaire wanted to add a few more zeros to his bloated bank account by stomping all over the little guy.
I took a deep, relaxing breath and repeated my grandmother’s advice. Stay calm. Don’t let him get to you. Don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much this hurts.
Before I changed my mind, I scrawled my signature on the bottom and added today’s date, then slipped the completed contract into my purse. I said goodbye to Aiden and Grams and left for Gauthier’s office.
The bus ride into the city took forty minutes, and as I alighted at the stop around the corner from my final destination, every step felt like I was wearing concrete shoes.
On arrival at the impressive glass-fronted building, I drew in a lungful of freezing air through my nose and slowly expelled it.
Here we go.
9
Garen
A sharp rap on my door lifted my head. My executive assistant, James, entered my office. I gave him a cursory glance then continued staring at my screen, reading the presentation Ryker had sent over. He wanted to use part of next month’s board meeting to discuss a further expansion to the Poles Apart exotic dance club brand that, frankly, the entire senior leadership team had expected to fail but was actually pulling in a very healthy profit, a
fact Ryker liked to remind us of regularly.
“What is it, James?”
“Reception just called. You have a visitor.”
Irritated, I rolled my eyes. “Unless there’s a pre-arranged appointment in my calendar for four-thirty, which I happen to know there isn’t, I expect you to handle this shit. It’s what I pay you for. Now get rid of them.”
James’ amused chuckle irked me further until he said, “Oh, I think this is one visitor you’ll definitely want to see.”
I swiveled my chair and squinted at him. “Okay, you’ve got my attention. Who is it?”
He jerked his chin at my curved computer monitor. “Check out the CCTV.”
I clicked the mouse a couple of times, bringing up the cameras in the lobby, and a grin edged across my face. Oh, this is priceless. Catriona was sitting on one of the visitor’s chairs, her back straight as a pole. I zoomed in. Clutched in her fingers was a stack of papers that looked remarkably like the sale contract for her studio.
This meant one of two things. Either she’d conceded defeat and signed them, or she was going to give a repeat performance and return them unsigned, accompanied by another lash of her tongue.
I shivered. Either scenario turned me on.
“Shall I arrange to have her sent up?”
I checked the time. By my reckoning, the deadline I’d given her had another fifty minutes to go before the twenty-four hours were up.
“No,” I said, a plan forming in my mind, one I took great delight in. “Let her wait.”
“For how long?” James asked.
“Get a message to her telling her I’m finishing up a meeting and I’ll be free in around fifteen minutes.”
“And will you be free in fifteen minutes?” James asked.
I shot him a sidelong glance. “No.”
“Are you planning to see her at all, or shall I wait the allotted time and then get rid of her?”
“Oh no, I’ll see her. When I’m good and ready.”
Entrapped: A Billionaire Romance (The ROGUES Series Book 3) Page 4
