by Violet Paige
“Are you ever going to stop giving me shit about it?”
He knew he gambled too much. He knew sometimes it got out of hand, but this was the one time it had paid off. His bet brought the most amazing woman into their lives. A sassy spitfire with gorgeous tits and an ass that was round and soft. And there was an entirely unexpected side—she was an artist.
It was a part of his life he had never been able to share with anyone before. He had collected for years. Toured the world, visiting the most prestigious collections he could find..
“She isn’t going to go for this, Deac.”
“Then, we do it the old-fashioned way,” he decided.
“Old fashioned way?” Cole questioned.
“We seduce her with everything we have. We will be relentless. Put everything on the table. Everything.”
“I don’t know that Abby is the kind of girl who is going to fall for that. You saw that look. It’s clear Cal Mantelli isn’t her favorite person, and I’m certain she has added our names to that list.”
“That may be so. But we have thirty days to make her ours. And I plan on using every second we have to make sure that happens.”
It took everything he had not to kiss her when she was here. He had taken one look at her and wanted to know what those plump lips would taste like. What kinds of sounds she would make when he kissed her. How her eyes would light when he touched her.
“Are you with me?” he asked his friend.
Cole ran his fingers through his hair. “For a chance with her? Yes I am. I’m all in, if we can make this work.”
“Then the opening in Vegas this weekend will be the perfect chance to show her what we can give her.”
“Let’s just get through dinner first.”
5
Abby
It didn’t matter that the drapes were made from imported silk or that she had her own fireplace. Abby didn’t care that there was a closet full of designer gowns, and more high heels than she had seen in a department store.
These walls were her prison. A beautiful expensive prison. And she hated it.
She turned on the TV and sank onto the pile of pillows. She scowled, despising how comfortable the bed was. It would make it easier if they gave her a bed of thorns to sleep on—not luxurious linens.
Who did these assholes think they were? There was nothing about them that seemed like the thugs Cal usually did business with. They were refined. Polished. And they had money. They weren’t trying to hide how rich they were. She doubted they had made a single deal in the back of an ally or resorted to petty theft to pay bills.
From their expensive suits to the custom details in the mansion. They were loaded. Their reputations as Chicago’s infamous bachelors were hard to miss. They were splashed on social media. There were even blogs about Deacon and Cole. The last article she read put together a bracket list on which Chicago socialites would be able to snag the duo. She wondered what the world would think if they knew this is what they did.
She wasn’t going to get caught up in the riches. Abby knew money was fleeting. She had learned that the hard way. She had seen her family’s fortune go up in flames when her father lost everything in a real estate deal. They lost it all: the cars, the land, her mother’s jewelry, and their house.
It wasn’t long after his financial ruin that her father learned he was sick. Life went from bad to worse. Money meant nothing and everything at the same time.
Abby wandered to the window and stared out at the manicured grounds. There was an infinity pool that stretched the length of the house. It had to be heated.
She would do anything to trade the money to have her father back. She watched the landscaper trimming hedges. The money almost made her sick. She had seen how hard he worked to make sure they never wanted for anything. But what was the point?
There was a knock on the door.
“Yes?” she called.
Douglas entered. “Mr. Rockford and Mr. Evans would like for you to wear this for dinner, Miss Mantelli.” He presented her with a gown tucked inside a leather garment bag.
She rolled her eyes. “Is there something wrong with my sweater and jeans?” She folded her arms. She knew the boots were cute.
“Dinner at the manor is formal.” He cleared his throat. “Appropriate dress is required.”
“Fine. I’ll wear the damn dress.”
She attempted to yank it from his gloved hands.
“It is a one-of-a-kind Shera. It’s delicate, Miss Mantelli.”
For a second she hesitated. “A Shera?”
He nodded. “Yes ma’am.”
She wasn’t going to be seduced by the price tag on this dress. She didn’t care if it was a twenty-thousand dollar gown. They were showing off. Paying her off. It wasn’t going to work.
She took it from Douglas. “I’ll wear it, but only because I have to.”
It was hard not to peek. She waited for the butler to leave the room. “Is there anything else they would like to decree?” she snarled.
He walked toward the door. “Dinner is promptly at six.”
“I will be there.”
She didn’t have a choice. She thought about her options. There were none. She had to put on the dress and march down the stairs like the piece of property she was. For the next thirty days Cole and Deacon owned her. There was no way around that unless she could prove herself through her art.
For thirty-days she had to survive in this golden castle. Endure the loneliness. Bear the brunt of what they expected. Her stomach rolled. She had no doubt what she was expected to do. They might have acted like gentlemen. They might disguise their motives with lavish gifts. They might try to hide behind a job offer at HiTech Global. But she knew. It was an elaborate sham.
They bought her.
They owned her.
And the price was sex.
6
Abby
Abby had to hold the banister to keep from tripping over the train on the black gown. The beading made it heavy as it clung to her body. Her heels were high and if she tipped forward, there was a chance she would tumble down the winding staircase.
The dress cut in a low V to her navel and draped gracefully off her shoulders. It was hard to deny how elegant and sexy it was. The slight train gave it a glamorous feel. It seemed ridiculous to wear this to dinner in the dining room, but she did as she was told. Douglas didn’t seem like the kind of man who joked around, and she wasn’t interested in testing Deacon or Cole.
When she reached the bottom of the staircase she peered around the corner looking for the dining room. The house was eerily dark and quiet.
She didn’t know what it would be like living with two bachelors. Whether they would have sports blaring on the TV at all times. If they would smoke cigars or walk around in their underwear. These two men didn’t seem like other bachelors. They were different.
She listened for the sound of Deacon and Cole talking and walked toward the front entrance of the mansion. An overpowering chandelier hung in the foyer. In front of her was the front door.
There was no one here. No one to see her. No one to stop her.
She slowly picked up the train, weighted by the intricate beading work. Was she actually considering making a run for it? Could she run through the front door to her freedom? How long would it take for them to notice she was gone?
There was no way she would make it far in these heels. She looked to her right. Then her left. The house was quiet. She slid off her shoes, feeling tiny without them to give her extra height. She hiked the dress to her hip, using the open slit in the side as an advantage. She tiptoed toward the massive set of doors.
She didn’t know where she would go on the other side. With each step she took she tried to think of how this could pan out. Would Cal track her down? Would he punish her for ruining his payment plan? What if Deacon and Cole had an angry side she hadn’t picked up on? Would she have to serve a longer term if they caught her?
There wasn’t tim
e to hash out every scenario. It was now or never.
She reached the handle. It was embellished and carved. Her fingers rested on the design. On the other side was the dark night. Night that offered a chance to run. A chance to escape. Night that held more fear. Held retaliation. A life that would never be certain. She pressed her forehead into the planes of the door.
She heard footsteps behind her and jumped. She quickly maneuvered away from the door.
“Going somewhere?”
It was Cole.
She plastered a smile on her face and turned to face him. “I-I had a cramp in my foot from the shoes,” she lied. “I was walking it out in the foyer. The marble is cool on my feet.”
He bent toward the floor and retrieved her heels. They looked tiny in his hands.
“Let me help.”
He strolled toward her and knelt at her feet. Abby felt her throat tighten. She fought back the tears. The regret sank into her shoulders and worked through her body. Tonight’s freedom was gone. She waited too long and let the obstacles paralyze her instead of taking a chance. It was her own fault. She blinked back the first tear.
Cole touched her ankle, raising it from the floor. “How is this?” He slid it into the shoe and then assisted her other foot while she used his shoulder as a balance barre.
She nodded. “I think it’s fine now.”
He grinned, rising slowly from the marble. “You look stunning, Abby.”
It happened involuntarily, but she shivered. It was the good kind. It felt tingly and electric. She wanted to slap herself. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He was her warden, not some kind of prince.
“Thank you.” Her eyes darted away from him, but landed on Deacon strolling toward them.
He was drop-dead gorgeous in a fitted tux. She inhaled sharply as his eyes caught hers.
“You are sexy as sin, sweetheart.” He reached for her hand, drawing her wrist toward his face. She blushed when he turned her hand over and kissed the inside of her palm. She was worried this time they both saw her shiver.
“Shall we?” Cole offered his arm. Deacon was quick to follow on her other side.
Abby let them lead her to the dining room, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that they eyed her as if they wished she was tonight’s dessert.
7
Abby
She didn’t know if she could eat. The only thing that made any sense was to douse the night in alcohol. Lots of it.
Cole sat on one side of her and Deacon on the other. They acted as if this a normal dinner. There was nothing normal about it. Abby was determined they wouldn’t forget it.
She wasn’t here voluntarily. Only moments ago she was scouting a way out of this palace prison. The hand-laid stone and the imported glass didn’t make it a home.
“Do you like your room?” Cole asked.
Abby pushed her salad around on her plate.
“It will be fine.”
Deacon’s eyes bore into hers. “Would you like to look at another suite? You could move. You can take your pick.”
“It won’t make a difference.”
“If you don’t like it, you can move, Abby.”
“Can I? Really? How generous of you both.” She glared at them. “Is sleeping in my own bed an option?”
“While you are staying here, this is your home. You can choose any room you like. There are several that might make you feel more comfortable.” Cole didn’t take her bait. He was calm. His voice almost too cool.
She dropped her fork on the plate with a clatter. “Nothing you can do other than letting me go with my full freedom is going to make me feel comfortable.”
Deacon pressed his lips together. “We can’t let you go, Abby.”
She reached for the wine, eager to feel the numbness take over her thoughts. “I figured. Why would you?”
“Exactly. Why would we?” Deacon seemed satisfied with his rhetorical response. There was something about him that exuded masculinity. He was broad chested. His shoulders expansive. The tuxedo seemed to stretch at the seams to accommodate him.
“I think if you give this situation time, you’ll enjoy living here. You can have anything you want.” Cole tried to make the situation better. His eyes were softer than Deacon’s. He had long lashes that were hard to ignore.
“The only thing I want is my freedom, but that’s not an option.”
“No. It’s not.” Deacon refilled her glass. “You might as well drink up and enjoy the night.”
“But not too much,” Cole warned. “We all have a full day at the office tomorrow.”
The office. Again, he tried to make something surreal sound normal.
“I’m not sure I completely understand what you expect me to do for HiTech Global. Maybe you could fill me in.” Abby sat in her chair and waited for a response.
Deacon leaned forward on his elbows. “I’d much rather get to know you. We can talk work tomorrow.”
“I think it’s a fair question.” Cole took a sip of wine. “We could use a talented artist. I’m hoping that’s you.”
Abby twisted her lips together. “I’d like to propose a deal of my own.”
Deacons eyebrows rose. “Really? Like what?”
“If you like my designs for HiTech Global, you’ll let me go early.”
The men looked at each other.
“I’m serious,” she broke the silence in the dining room. “If my logo is the one that is chosen for the series, you let me go. I think it’s fair.”
“I don’t see how something like that would work. By default, I’m not going to pick yours, sweetheart if it means we lose you.” Deacon winked. “Nice try though.”
Abby huffed. “We have to have someone else make the decision. Someone you trust. But you can’t tell them about the deal.”
Cole cleared his throat. “Those are high stakes.”
She stuck her chin out in defiance. “I think my design will win. And I believe I’ll have my freedom sooner than thirty days.”
Cole chuckled. “You are confident.”
“One more thing.” She caught their attention. “No sex.”
“We already went over this,” they groaned.
“It’s part of my negotiation. No sneaking in my room at night. Nothing. I’ll stay until I’m ready to present the design and then you have to let me go. Do we have a deal?”
The candlelight flickered on the table. Abby held her breath.
Cole held his hand forward first. “We have a deal.”
Deacon was obviously frustrated. “Fine. We have a deal.”
She smiled and for the first time took a full bite of steak. It wouldn’t be long before she was out of here.
8
Cole
He walked into Abby’s office without bothering to knock. Damn, she looked fucking edible in high heels and the tight pencil skirt that hugged her ass. He had to remind his cock to stay in check.
He cleared his throat, forcing her to look up from her desk.
“I supposed you’re here to tell me what the artwork entails for your new project?” Her eyebrows rose.
Cole folded his arms across his chest. He couldn’t blame her for being hostile all the time. The situation was out of control, but he knew there was no going back. Once he had supported Deacon, he was in a hundred percent.
“First I want to make sure you were given a proper orientation to the company from human resources.”
Abby nodded. “I was. It seems a little ridiculous though.”
“It’s not. I’ll tell you what happened. A couple years ago our payroll department was hacked.”
Abby’s eyes widened. “Wh-what?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “So, we take all employee information very seriously. Don’t worry. That’s not going to happen again. We’ve added firewalls. Whoever the hacker was, was pretty clever.”
“Really?” She tilted her head. “But you never caught them?”
“No. Never. Anyway, if you’ve gone through HR, I think we
should talk about what’s next for you. Wouldn’t you like to know what you’re designing?” he asked.
She looked around. “This office is over-the-top. You could have at least put me in a cubicle so everyone else didn’t think I was sleeping with the bosses.”
“Is that what they think?” He smirked.
“Wouldn’t you if the new girl waltzed in and on her first day got the corner office with her own assistant?”
Cole shrugged. He didn’t give a damn what the employees thought about why Abby was here.
“I just need to know you have everything you need to complete the project.” He looked at the design table he had ordered this morning. He was pleased it had been delivered so promptly. She also had a new laptop, phone, and the latest design programs.
“I can’t think of anything else. I just need you to tell me the project. Is it a video game? One of your new apps?” She looked agitated.
“Is there something wrong with the products HiTech Global creates?” he questioned.
“No. I just can’t believe I’m going to help you make millions of dollars after all this, but that’s the price of my deal, so just go ahead and tell me. What’s the newest and greatest thing that will make you and Deacon ultra-rich.”
“Abby, it has nothing to do with making us rich.”
She huffed. “Likely.”
He sat in the soft white leather chair in front of her desk. “Would you like for me to explain it to you?”
“I’m listening.”
“You are competing for the winning design of the Soar Foundation.”
“A foundation?” Her beautiful lips parted with surprise.
He felt his chest tighten. Even the smallest movements she made, drove him wild.
“Yes. It’s our children’s foundation. The pinnacle of what we are trying to achieve at HiTech Global. Yes, we are fortunate to have padded bank accounts. Deac and I know how lucky we are. We don’t take it for granted. Over the years we’ve tried to figure out how we could give back. What the right way was to show our gratitude. This idea has been in the works for years. That’s why it’s so important that we get it right. The branding of the Soar Foundation has to show the world that if they give to our foundation, whether it’s through time or money, that they are part of a cause greater than them. They are part of a family.”
