High Society Secrets

by Karen Booth

  The precipice was what called to him. The danger of walking on the brink. The potential of being caught was what made the rush so thrilling. Without it...

  “Stone, I’m smart enough to keep myself out of jail. I’ve said it before, she’s—” he gestured to the photograph beneath the pile of papers “—the only reason I got caught. I have no intention of ever letting that happen again.”

  Stone made a sound in the back of his throat that clearly stated his skepticism.

  “I successfully pulled off more than two dozen jobs before her. I let myself get caught,” Finn insisted.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I chose to go back. I put myself in that position.”

  Genevieve had distracted him. Made him sloppy. And he’d done something stupid. He had no intention of letting that happen again. What he needed right now was to win back Genevieve’s trust so he could have access to his son. Period.

  Stone’s eyebrow rose, but he chose not to push him. Smart man. “Genevieve might be starting to make a splash on the jewelry scene, but her finances are precarious at best. What little money she got from her family is mostly tied up in inventory. Loose stones, precious metals.”

  His friend wasn’t telling him anything Finn wasn’t already aware of. He’d been going over Genevieve’s financials just as closely as his own. He might ignore his company, but information was knowledge and he wouldn’t let anyone take advantage of him.

  What he didn’t know was where Stone was going with this. “Your point?”

  “She spent money she didn’t have to hire a damn good lawyer to fight you.”

  Which was nothing less than what Finn had expected. And he hated to think of Genevieve putting herself and his son in that situation, but he’d remedy it as soon as possible.

  “I tried to give her money. She hasn’t cashed the check.” Which also wasn’t a surprise. But he had a plan to get her an influx of cash...one she couldn’t afford to refuse. “Don’t worry, man. I have everything under control.”

  Stone gave him a hard look. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Yeah, so did he.

  Everything was riding on the next few weeks. One hiccup could cost him everything. But Finn was used to betting everything on a single well-planned adventure.

  * * *

  Genevieve paced through her living room, the heels of her shoes clicking against the hardwoods she’d refinished herself. Hands tucked beneath her crossed arms, she couldn’t stop herself from looking out the open blinds to the street in front of her little house. Waiting.

  Down the hall she could hear Maddie’s happy, high-pitched voice as she read a book to Noah. She had no idea what she would have done over the last three years without her best friend. She’d been with Genevieve every step of the way...including being in the delivery room when Noah was born.

  Maddie had also been there when Finn first slammed into Genevieve’s life. There’d been something about him, something that drew Genevieve from the first moment they’d met, at a charity gala hosted by her grandfather.

  Certainly, Finn was charismatic and handsome. Every female there that night had taken notice of him. But for Genevieve...it was more. She’d sensed the dangerous edge behind the polished exterior. And despite herself, she’d been tempted by it. For someone who’d been raised under a sheltered, strict upbringing that temptation had felt...deliciously forbidden. And so had he.

  The sensual pull had only heightened when, without asking permission, he’d pulled her onto the dance floor. The warmth of his smooth palm caressed across her bare back. From that first encounter, she’d craved him.

  Unfortunately, despite everything, there was a huge part of her that worried she still did.

  Glancing at her watch, Genevieve felt her heart lurch into her throat. Five minutes.

  What she couldn’t understand was why Finn had fought so hard to meet Noah. The man she’d known had worked hard to avoid any semblance of responsibility to the point of outsourcing the management of his family’s company. It wasn’t likely he’d suddenly developed a burning desire to be a father.

  Her biggest concern was the impact this was going to have on Noah. She really didn’t want her son falling in love with his daddy only to have Finn disappear. Or disappoint. Both highly likely.

  A car door slammed. Genevieve glanced at her watch again. Exactly ten. The chime on her front door pealed. Swallowing down the butterflies storming her belly, she stalked across the room to yank it open.

  And lost her breath.

  Damn him for being exactly as she remembered. His feet were spread, encased in large black motorcycle boots planted on the pale boards of her front porch. Shoulders packed with muscle, nearly as wide as her doorway, blocked her view of the car undoubtedly sitting at her curb. A perverse part of her wondered if he still drove the sleek Maserati he’d delighted in racing through the city at top speed, practically taunting the local police to pull him over.

  He’d been reckless and wild. So different than she was, which was undoubtedly what had attracted her in the first place. Finn DeLuca was a force. A storm, beautiful and raging. Uncaring what he destroyed in his path.

  His hair was just as dark, almost jet-black, and untamed as the rest of him. A thick scruff covered his chin and cheeks, giving the impression he couldn’t be bothered to shave rather than he was cultivating an actual beard.

  But it was his eyes that got to her. Every damn time. So dark they almost appeared black. But she’d been close enough to know they were actually a deep, dark shade of coffee brown. What had gotten her more than the color, though, was the way he’d looked at her...like he’d actually seen her. All of her, especially the pieces she’d gotten very good at hiding from everyone, including herself.

  He’d been the devil sitting on her shoulder, tempting her to sin. With him, she’d felt powerful, intelligent and beautiful. He’d convinced her she could be daring, too.

  Finn DeLuca had the uncanny ability to make her feel like she had no secrets...and that she didn’t need any. Turns out he’d been right. She hadn’t had any secrets from him because he’d researched every damn aspect of her life. And used each piece of knowledge against her. To make her care for him. Love him.

  Trust him.

  All so he could steal what he wanted—the Star of Reilly—without regard to the damage he inflicted on her life.

  “The neighbors might start talking if you leave me standing on the front porch all day, Genni.”

  “Don’t call me that.” Her response was automatic. So was the way she stepped back, doing exactly what he’d wanted her to.

  He paused beside her as he moved into her home. For a second she thought he was going to touch her. Genevieve tensed, not certain how she’d react. But instead of reaching out, Finn slowly turned his head and flashed her that dangerous, mischievous grin. The one that always made her knees go weak. Because whatever nefarious thought was usually behind that grin had inevitably left her a naked, quaking, pleasure-infused mess.

  Nope, that wasn’t happening now.

  Shoving the door closed, Genevieve purposely walked away from him. She stopped in the middle of her living room and swiveled, wrapping her arms around herself in a comforting hold.

  “I don’t know what you’re hoping to gain here, Finn, but whatever it is, you can’t have it.”

  “The only thing I want is the chance to get to know my son. You look real good, Genni.”

  She shook her head. “We both know that’s not how you work, so cut the BS. I haven’t figured out your play yet, but I will. And just in case you’re not aware, although I’m sure you are, I no longer have access to the Reilly estate, including any of the jewels, the business or the art.”

  “Yep, I’m fully aware. Why do you think I wrote you that check?”

  “Speaking of which, you can have the pieces back. And so we’
re clear, flattery won’t get you anywhere with me. We both know you have the ability to spout pretty words with no substance. Don’t waste your breath.”

  Finn’s face drew tight. His mouth flattened into a sharp line, giving her an expression she’d never seen before. But that was probably because he’d only shown her what he wanted her to see.

  “I meant what I said. And just so you know, I meant every word I’ve ever said to you. I might have done many things, but I never once lied to you.”

  Genevieve laughed, the sound of it very out of place. “Sure, except when you told me I could trust you and promised you’d never hurt me.”

  He took a single step toward her. Genevieve held up both hands.

  “I’m sorry, Genevieve.”

  It was tempting to believe he actually meant the short declaration. She heard sincerity in the words. And there was a part of her that thought maybe he was sorry.

  At least sorry he’d gotten caught.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t actually hate you, even though you deserve it. You gave me Noah. And even if it wasn’t the way I would have preferred, you showed me I could have a life I didn’t think possible. And gave me the confidence to fight for me and my son when I needed to. I’m happier now. But that doesn’t mean I intend to forgive you or forget how you used and manipulated me.”

  It was Genevieve who closed the gap between them. She walked straight into his personal space, going toe-to-toe with him. She looked up into his dark, swarthy expression and said, “But I promise you this, I will never let you hurt or manipulate my son. So, for your sake, I hope you’re telling me the truth. Because I’m not the naive, malleable girl you knew three years ago.”

  Copyright © 2020 by Kira Bazzel

  Return to Jackson Falls, where uncovered secrets just may lead to a second chance for Senatorial candidate Byron Robidoux and the woman he never stopped loving...

  Read on for the first chapter of

  Scandalous Secrets

  by Synithia Williams

  Scandalous Secrets

  by Synithia Williams

  CHAPTER ONE

  BYRON WAS AT the top of his game.

  His heart pumped with exhilaration. His cheeks hurt from the smile that refused to leave his face. He stared out at the crowd surrounding the stage, and the eyes looking back at him were bright with enthusiasm, hope and determination. Signs with the green and blue logo of his campaign flowed like waves in their hands. A blend of people from all races, economic classes and social backgrounds packed in the brewery he’d chosen to hold his watch party.

  And he hadn’t let them down. The results were in. He’d won.

  The fervor of his supporters was like a tidal wave. Bowling him over with its strength. He’d done this. He’d actually gotten this far. The primary win wasn’t a guarantee he’d make it to the Senate, but he had lasted far enough to beat out an opponent with experience as a state legislator and a much longer record of public service. The weight of responsibility to live up to the expectations of the people who’d voted for him, the people who were currently cheering for him, was something he refused to take lightly.

  “I promise you,” Byron said into the microphone. In his periphery, Roy, his campaign manager, took a step forward. Byron could hear Roy’s warning in his head. Never make promises in a speech. They come back and bite you in the ass. Byron didn’t care about that right now. This was a promise he planned to keep.

  Byron held up a finger and shook his hand with each word. “I promise you I will not forget the trust you all have honored me with tonight. We have gotten this far, and we will keep going all the way to Washington. No more waiting for tomorrow. The time is now!”

  The crowd cheered. They held up and waved his signs and repeated his words. “The time is now!” The campaign slogan had come about during a debate after his opponent, state senator Gordan, insisted the time wasn’t right to try and fight the administration on progressive ideas. Byron’s immediate comeback had been that fifteen years was too long to wait, and the time was now.

  A slim hand slid into his left one and squeezed. Byron turned from the crowd toward his fiancée, Yolanda. Her brown eyes were filled with pride. Tall, graceful and perfectly polished in a tasteful green blouse and navy pants—to match his campaign colors—she complemented him. As Byron wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, anyone looking at them would see a young, optimistic couple deeply in love.

  Byron didn’t miss how the gleam of triumph overshadowed the pride in her eyes. Yolanda was a woman on the way to making partner at the reputable legal firm she worked for. A position beneficial for the wife of North Carolina’s newest senator.

  Byron leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. She placed a hand on his cheek. Her nails lightly scratched the beard he’d grown during the last weeks of the campaign. Her gentle reminder to cut the damn thing, before she pulled back and grinned wider. “We did it,” she said.

  He slid his arm back and entwined their fingers. “Yes, we did.”

  They waved and shook hands as they made their way off the stage. The band played upbeat music. Champagne corks popped throughout the building and more beer poured from the tap. The party would start now, along with the real work. He needed to finalize the strategy against his opponent. Brainstorm the best way to reach the digitally disconnected constituents in his district. Figure out the best way to utilize his family to spread his message throughout the district. Develop a plan to be more relatable to his constituents. Something even more necessary now that his best friend and former brother-in-law had plans to remarry into the family. This time with a different sister.

  “I know that look” came a booming male voice.

  Byron shifted and faced his father. Grant Robidoux had a Robidoux Tobacco cigar in one hand and the other slammed down hard onto Byron’s shoulder and squeezed. His dad was what Byron imagined he’d look like one day. Skin the color of dark honey slightly lined due to age, light brown eyes, and curly hair with just enough salt and pepper to make people say he looked distinguished. Pride radiated off him like sunbeams as he studied Byron’s face.

  Byron took the glass of champagne Yolanda handed to him off the tray of a passing server. “What look is that, Dad?”

  “The I’m-already-planning-the-next-step look,” Grant said, pointing his cigar at Byron. “Not tonight. There is enough time for strategy tomorrow. Tonight, you enjoy the win.” He winked at Yolanda. “Enjoy the company of the beautiful woman at your side. The real fight is about to begin. Give yourself this moment to bask in the glory.”

  Yolanda raised her glass and tapped it against Byron’s. “I agree with that.”

  Byron forced the massive list of things he needed to do to the back of his mind. Taking a second to enjoy this milestone wouldn’t hurt. “Fine, I’ll sit back and enjoy this win, but I’m starting early tomorrow.” He glanced around the crowd and caught the fierce glare of his older sister. “Uh-oh.”

  Grant’s brows drew together. “Uh-oh? What’s wrong?”

  “Elaina is scowling. Do you know why?” Nothing good ever followed one of Elaina’s scowls. She’d just been smiling and clapping with the rest of his supporters.

  Grant’s gaze shifted away. He brought the cigar to his nose and sniffed. “No idea.”

  “You’re lying.” Byron didn’t hesitate to call his dad out. He loved and respected his dad more than any other man in the world, but he also knew when Grant tried to keep something from him. “What happened?”

  Grant shrugged. “Nothing big. India and Travis ducked out right before your acceptance speech, and she’s worried they’ve run off and done something stupid.”

  Byron relaxed. “They’re probably just getting out of here to spend a few minutes alone together. I don’t blame them after we spent the last few weeks pretending as if they weren’t together. You t
ell Elaina to do exactly what you told me. Enjoy the win and strategize tomorrow.”

  Byron wasn’t concerned about his younger sister and best friend leaving his party early. They were crazy about each other—God help them—and they wanted to spend time together. Elaina being upset, well, that made more sense. Even though she’d given her blessing to India and Travis after discovering they were together, the situation was still awkward as hell.

  “Why do I have to tell her?” Grant asked, sounding genuinely put out.

  Byron lightly hit his father’s shoulder. “Because it’s my party and I don’t want to.” He wrapped his arm around Yolanda’s shoulders and maneuvered her away from his dad in the opposite direction of Elaina.

  “You know you were wrong for doing that,” Yolonda said, chuckling.

  “He’s the one who told me to relax. Dealing with whatever is bothering Elaina is not my idea of relaxing.”

  Yolanda sighed and leaned farther into him. “I still can’t believe you’re okay with India and Travis. God knows how we’re going to smooth over this situation with them in the media. We don’t need anything smearing your campaign.”

  “Don’t worry. This won’t smear my campaign. If anything, it’ll show how well our family works together.” Or reveal just how cracked we are beneath the polished exterior.

  Byron caught the eye of one of his larger donors. He smiled and waved and moved in that direction. He added worrying about his family’s image to the long list of items he’d have to overcome if he hoped to win in November.

  Yolanda dug her feet in and stopped him. Her eyes were serious as they met his. “I’m not playing about this. We have to be delicate moving forward. I’m with you to win. Not to let the soft spot you have for your baby sister and best friend derail this train.”

  Yolanda’s words were pragmatic as always. Her practicality and ability to strategize was why he’d agreed to this engagement, but that didn’t stop irritation from crawling up his spine. Happiness was hard to obtain. So why get in the way when two people he cared about actually found it? He may not be a proponent of true love, but he also wouldn’t begrudge those who were.