Cold-Hearted: A Billionaire Secret Baby Romance (The Alabaster Club Series Book 2)

by Athena Braveheart

  “Fine,” Trevor finally snapped. “You’ll have to send in a proposal like all the other contractors. I will not have my company in jeopardy because there is no proof of documentation.”

  Despite the extra work they had to do, Sucre seemed happy with how the meeting was going. He exchanged another look with his men and smiled, his gold canine tooth gleaming. He also trailed the length of the statue he had held earlier with his fingers, clearly quite fascinated by it. Eventually, he nodded and began to step away from the desk.

  “It has been a pleasure having such a short, cordial relationship with you.” He snickered.

  The other men silently flanked him at both sides. Trevor briefly noticed their hands caressing what seemed to be the silver overlay on the edges of their weapons, tucked inconspicuously under their jackets. The thought that they could have hurt anyone here before his arrival made him uneasy.

  He watched as they left, staring silently and burning holes in the back of their heads. If he could have gotten away with the murder of those men, he would have done it in a heartbeat.

  But he had to be smart. Getting up, he walked over to the window on his door, the only one that wasn’t frosted. He watched as they mockingly tipped their imaginary hats to his secretary before heading to the elevator.

  He heaved a long sigh and closed his eyes.

  He needed to find a way out of the trouble he had gotten himself into all those years ago.

  He needed to do that as soon as possible.

  Chapter Four

  Rays of sunlight brightened the sky above her as she slowly inched her car into the parking space in front of the small restaurant that her date had chosen. Checking her reflection in the rearview mirror, Jules brushed a strand of her hair from her face and sighed.

  She wasn’t, by any means, supermodel-beautiful, but she humbly acknowledged she had agreeable features. Her brown eyes had a perfect hue that complemented her strawberry-blond hair and pale white skin. Her lips were full and naturally pink, what many of her dates had described as plump and riveting. Apart from her pretty face, Jules was also aware of her alluring hourglass shape. Her upper body was slim and symmetrical, while she had wide hips and full buttocks that slimmed her waist magnificently.

  Aware of her entirely riveting figure, Jules was convinced that her inability to find the perfect match for her wasn’t because she wasn’t attractive or that she hadn’t met men who were equally good-looking. She could tell that most men felt instantly enthralled by her looks. Her dates in the past had spoken about how beautiful and smart she was.

  But Jules had always been the one to put an end to the possibility of a relationship. It wasn’t the men themselves that were lacking, it was the spark that she felt—or rather, didn’t feel—with them. Sure, some of them had been dull, but that was just her opinion and they just hadn’t meshed well. There was nothing wrong with them, per se.

  She always wanted more after she met them. She desired the spark that she had once felt with Richard—an electrifying jolt that immediately informed her he would be the man who would genuinely care for her and capture her whole heart.

  In return, she was going to love him all her life, work be damned.

  Hoping that her current date could make her feel the spark that she wanted, she finally stepped out of the car and slowly inched toward the restaurant, aware of the way her skirt clung tightly against her body, revealing her thick thighs.

  Immediately, as she stepped through the doors, a man sitting in the middle of the room raised his hand, ushering her toward his table with a smile. Jules stared at him briefly before approaching him. She was a bit disappointed, since he was completely different from what she had expected. According to his profile, he was thirty-one. But, inching closer and noticing his bald head and slightly wrinkled cheeks, she would have pegged him as a man in his late thirties or even early forties. At least he was in good shape, she thought. He beamed brightly at her, though, and quickly stood to draw out a chair for her.

  “Jules Harper?” he asked.

  “Hi,” she replied, smiling at him tentatively.

  He deliberately let his fingers trail the length of her arm as she sat. Then he sat in front of her and reached out to place her right hand in between his palms.

  “Arthur Cornak,” he said, grinning nervously as he introduced himself, “but you know that already!”

  “True.” Jules grinned. Judging by his genuine smile and how excited he seemed to finally meet her, Jules realized he wasn’t as terrible as she had initially thought and felt bad for judging him prematurely. She withdrew her hand when he finally released it and beamed at him once more.

  “So, why a small, cozy restaurant?” she asked him, glancing around them. Flowers spotted every table, while the wallpapers on the wall had beautiful black patterns that matched colors of the chairs and tables.

  “Because of what it is,” he said. “Cozy. Restaurants like this one immediately give off an idea of home, peace, and community. I came here once and had thought about coming back ever since.”

  She nodded, impressed by his taste. The restaurant, as small and slightly exotic as it looked, was indeed a beautiful place. Jules picked up her menu, silently willing her stomach to stop growling. She was still deciding whether or not to go for a burger and fries when Arthur motioned one of the waiters to come over and ordered fish and side salad for the both of them.

  “It’s the best thing on the menu,” Arthur assured her before turning back to the waiter. “I’ll have it without the extra sauce, please.”

  “I’ll have the burger instead,” Jules chimed in. As good as the fish sounded, the burger was the only choice she saw that could quench her hunger.

  The waiter, a tall young man in his early twenties, jotted down their orders and nodded courteously at them before scurrying away. Thinking that they could talk about themselves in the meantime, Jules looked up at Arthur and realized that he was staring bleakly at her.

  “What?” she asked him.

  “You know hamburgers have lots of calories, right?” he said in a low voice.

  He was kidding, right? “Oh, they do, alright.” She grinned, choosing to let it slide.

  But it seemed Arthur wasn’t going to let it go. “They could convert into fat and without proper—”

  “Arthur,” she said, interrupting him, “I think I am well aware of what calories do to the body.”

  He seemed taken by her blunt response. His lips clasped shut while he blinked twice at her. “It’s bad etiquette to cut people off when they are obviously giving helpful advice on your own health,” he finally muttered.

  It was her turn to be speechless. Jules stared at him, taking her initial thought back, that she might have an enjoyable date with him. Who rolled out etiquettes and criticism on a first date?

  “I don’t think unsolicited health advice is necessary, since I also care,” she told him, keeping her tone polite, and quickly continued before he could reply, “We should talk about something else.”

  He parted his lips and clasped them shut again. Straightening his back against the chair, he finally heaved a sigh and smiled at her.

  “Okay,” he said, raising both hands. “What would you have us talk about?”

  “Your job, for instance,” Jules quickly suggested, despite how disappointed she felt already. She suddenly didn’t feel like continuing with lunch.

  “Well, I don’t do much.” He shrugged. “I get the upgrades running and the companies pay me to never stop. I thought you’d read that on my profile. That should’ve been the first thing you saw in order to decide whether or not to meet with me.”

  Jules blinked twice at him. She suddenly felt irritated with him and his tendency to be completely and utterly rude. Did he have zero social awareness? How far up his ass was he that he couldn’t read the table?

  Luckily, before their conversation become worse than it already was, the waiter came with their food and gently placed it in front of them. At the same time
, Arthur stared uneasily around him as if he was trying to find something.

  “Are you looking for the men’s room?” the waiter asked him. He gestured to the hallway tucked away in the back.

  Arthur nodded at the waiter in appreciation. “I will only be gone a minute,” he assured Jules, rising from his seat.

  She nodded curtly at him, regretting her decision for the umpteenth time to meet with him. She was still considering whether or not to continue with lunch when she noticed him whistling as soon as he was a few feet away from their table. Two girls had stepped into the restaurant and were dressed in short denim shorts and crop-tops that revealed their toned abdomens. He seemed ensnared by them and was clearly unable to hide it. When they giggled at him, he winked fancifully and sauntered into the restroom.

  Jules sighed and stared sadly at the burger in front of her. She thought about starting her meal before he returned and wondered what his moral standard might be about that. A small part of her didn’t blame him for being concerned about her consumption of food with excess calories—she usually tried to eat healthy too—but he seemed to be a very narcissistic and controlling man.

  He would most definitely think it was wrong for a date to eat before her partner returns, and she wasn’t in the mood to hear more about “proper etiquette.”

  At that thought, she snorted. Why did she care so much about some man’s wildly skewed opinion? Nobody followed rules like that anymore! Deciding that she had wasted enough time with him, she finally smiled at the hovering waiter and pointed to her food.

  “Can you pack this up for me?” she asked, already reaching into her purse to pay.

  The waiter, sensing that she was in a hurry to leave, quickly wrapped the burger for her in a Styrofoam container and handed it to her. Jules thanked him and dropped cash for the food, along with a huge tip, on the table. She hurried out of the restaurant and began to walk down the parking lot instead of toward her car. Following the direction of the breeze that blew across her face and plastered her blouse against her chest, she came across a small park with plenty of seating and a large fountain.

  Rays of sunlight gleamed beautifully through her hair as she peacefully dug into her food, all thoughts of calories and etiquette out the window.

  Chapter Five

  It had been two hours since Stefano’s men had left, yet Trevor found it difficult to stop thinking about them and the possibility that the gang was never going to stop demanding “favors” from him. He wondered what ties the UF Inc. had with Stefano, and the gains that they probably would be forcing out of the company once he commissioned the project to it. He hated the risk that he was taking, especially in regard to his company, but he had yet to find a way to rid himself of the Mafia.

  Stefano had been quickly expanding his network ever since he had been able to somehow climb up the ladder of the Mafia web in the city. The more powerful he became, the more Trevor felt as if Stefano could get anything from anyone, including their lives.

  Trying fervently to get his mind off the possibility of being in such trouble with the Mafia, Trevor concentrated on his laptop, skimming through the emails that he had missed since the previous night. Some of those sent by partner companies and magazines had been read and replied to by Theresa. But there were a few more from personal emails she skipped over that she probably had considered private.

  Skimming through one from Lily, Trevor shook his head at how hopeful she sounded throughout the email that they could meet again. He had been blunt with her before filling her with his cock: it was going to happen only once and there wouldn’t be any form of emotional attachment. Judging from the tone of Lily’s email, it seemed she had decided to ignore this altogether. She had sent him her home address, expressing how she would love to make love to him in her home instead of on the bed of an exotic hotel.

  I can’t wait to be in your arms again, Trevor, she had written, ending the email with an “xoxo,” which he thought was quite childish and a turn-off.

  He wished he could write her back, explaining that it was never going to happen, but that would imply that he cared about her enough in the first place to respond. Quickly exiting her email, he kept scrolling down, going through more emails that were slightly similar to hers.

  He wasn’t ready for whatever relationship that they had in mind. He wanted insane sex, and each time he had met with them, he had been straightforward enough to mention it.

  There were a few women who were quite agreeable to this. Trevor could still remember the hot brunette he had briefly been with at a cocktail party over two months ago. He had given a generous donation to the construction of a hospital and had been invited to the cocktail party that was organized to commission it. During the entire event, she had stared at him from the other end of the hall, getting him to notice the gentle way that her hand trailed over the length of her straight legs before settling between her thighs.

  Eventually, he had crossed the hall to meet her. He had whispered his intent into her ears and she had nodded, smiling at him. Since they had an agreement, he had watched as she slowly inched away from the party, hurrying down the passageway to a supply closet. He had closely followed her, clasping the door shut and locking it behind them once he was inside.

  She was waiting for him, her hands already reaching for the thin straps of her dress to slip them off her tanned shoulders. Trevor reached for the buttons of his shirt as he turned on the light; he preferred to fuck with the lights on so he could admire every inch of his lover’s body. He was in no way ashamed of his own and felt a jolt of triumph as she took in his torso with a look of desire. He easily freed his pants and underwear after unbuttoning his shirt. Their clothing dropped to the floor at the same time and he grabbed her waist and pulled him toward her, crushing his lips against hers with fervor.

  It had all happened so fast and so passionately. His hands had covered her fully aroused breasts, daring to squeeze a bit harder than normal while her hands trailed down the ridges of his abs to grip his long shaft.

  Remembering how her moans had filled the small closet as he finally filled her pleasure hole with his hardened cock, Trevor felt proud of himself. Apparently, she knew Russian and French, and had begged him in both languages to fuck her harder until she came.

  He had held on tight to her hair and her waist, pushing her against the wall. Ramming hard into her from behind, he had enjoyed every second of his thrusts and had growled dirty words into her ear, wishing that he knew her name. He could have gasped out her name as he finally climaxed. He could have let it slip off his tongue as she knelt in front of him afterwards and cleaned him up with her warm lips.

  That had been all between them, though. He didn’t ask her name, and neither had she. After their rather exhausting intercourse, she had slipped back into her dress, smiled at him, and left him alone in the closet to think about how exhilarating their encounter had been.

  It wasn’t the most exciting experience Trevor had at the cocktail party, though. When Trevor stepped out of the closet a minute later, an older man walked up to him, smiling invitingly.

  “There you are!” he said. “I was just asking if the philanthropist had left the party before it was over!”

  Trevor found out his name was Allen Winter. Winter was a popular name on the street, since he owned a large casino and was co-owner of three more. Immediately after he discovered who he was, Trevor let the old man usher him to the large outer entrance of the building and tell him about various clubs that would love to have a man like him.

  “You reek of new money, Mr. Strome, and lots of it,” Allen had said. “More than enough of these clubs would love to have you because of your wealth and status, and with benefits to boot...benefits that you can’t possibly imagine. I can put in a word if you are ever interested.”

  Although Trevor had laughed it off at the time, it wasn’t long before he took the invitation more seriously. It might have sounded ludicrous at first, but the more he thought about it, the better of
an idea it seemed to be.

  He didn’t want to agree right away, but he did promise he would consider it.

  Eventually, they had walked back to the party and Allen had excused himself after insisting that Trevor should have his number. Trevor had forgotten about him since then. He had also forgotten about the brunette in the closet and the rippling ecstasy they had both experienced.

  “Benefits.”

  The word kept echoing in Trevor’s thoughts, especially since he was presently in so much trouble with Stefano. He wondered what Allen meant those many months ago. Now, he hated that he hadn’t asked him about it when he had the chance. Rich people. Powerful people. The old man had spoken endlessly about them and their willingness to accept him into their club if he was willing.

  Well, Trevor was willing now. He would do anything to get Stefano off his damn back.

  Quickly going through his contacts, he felt excitement coursing through his body as he found Allen’s phone number. He pressed the dial button and waited, expecting to hear the familiar civil voice. Allen Winter picked up in seconds and Trevor had to restrain himself from yelling happily into the receiver.

  “Allen, it’s Trevor Strome,” he said instead in a calm voice. “We met at the cocktail party months ago, remember me?”

  “Certainly,” Allen responded pleasantly. “I was thinking you would never call.”

  “I thought so too,” Trevor replied truthfully.

  “I hate to cut this short, but I’m in the middle of boarding a flight,” Allen said apologetically. “Maybe you’d like to come to this little get-together I’ve got next week. We could talk, and I could introduce you to some club owners who would like to meet you.”