Stolen Hearts: A Dark Billionaire Collection

by Elizabeth Knox

  “No, please distract me with your troubles. It’ll get me out of my own head.” They might not realize it, but my words are more than truthful.

  “Selena found out this morning that the manager has been leaking “information” to the tabloids. In reality, it’s all bogus. This chick is just trying to make a quick buck. Selena already approached her and the girl had the audacity to threaten to sue Selena. Can you believe that?”

  “Jesus. A headache I don’t even want to think about,” I comment, sitting down on the oversized chair across from the girls on the couch. Honey plops right down in front of me, keeping her head up and listening to the entire conversation.

  “Yeah. I told her to ignore the girl. She’s only there to make a quick buck, and it’s obvious she isn’t trustworthy,” Brooklyn tells me.

  “It’s all you can do. She’ll go away at some point. All you can do now is wait it out. Once the rest of the employees see what she’s doing to you, hopefully, they’ll take your side and she’ll feel like an outsider,” I say.

  “They already are. A few of them have started fights with her and I’ve had to tell them to stop. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but from an HR perspective, if they keep hassling her then I’ll have to put in written warnings against them,” Selena groans out, making it obvious that she hates it.

  “While I love owning my business, I hate the legalities of it and I’m so glad Logan handles all of the nitty-gritty stuff for me. I’d be lost without him.”

  “I’d be happy just to even be working,” I tell them, frustrated that all of my time circulates around the drama with the Falcones and my miscarriage.

  “What did you do before all of this?” Selena is quick to ask.

  “I was an interior designer. I’d take complete shitshow homes and re-design them to make them appeal to home buyers. If I was pressed for time though, I’d take on small design jobs.”

  “Holy shit. That’s amazing!” Brooklyn claps her hands.

  “Yeah, damn,” Selena agrees.

  I sigh after taking in a deep breath. “I miss it. Working, I mean.”

  “Why don’t you get back to it? There’s nothing stopping you,” Selena tells me with encouragement laced through her voice.

  I think about it for a moment and realize that she isn’t wrong. There is absolutely nothing stopping me, and working could give me some purpose in life. It might even bring me out of my emotional rut, depression, or whatever I should call it. “Is working even an option with everything that’s still going on?” I ask, completely unsure if it’s safe for me to work.

  “Yes. Reggie will protect you. I can even talk to your brother about getting you an office space somewhere downtown so you can get some foot traffic,” Brooklyn suggests, and Selena smiles in agreement.

  “No, it’s okay. I don’t want them spending money on me,” I object, feeling weird about it.

  “Oh, stop it. They won’t let you do anything without their help and you know it. Logan invested in my beauty line, and Christian bought a fucking bar for Selena because that was her dream. Do you really think you’ll get settled without a lick of help from those bull-headed brothers of yours?”

  When she puts it like that, I guess I won’t be.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Someday this pain will be useful.

  ~ Unknown

  Reggie

  The girls sat in the living room for well over two hours. I stayed in the kitchen, for the most part, keeping to myself and checking in with the Steele brothers via text. Every now and then, I heard Madigan’s laughter radiating through the house, proving that the girls coming over was the best thing they could’ve done. She’s been depressed, not that I can blame her. I can’t imagine the pain she feels knowing what happened or how she’s even processing all of it.

  As someone who cares for her, it’s different for me. I knew she was pregnant and she confessed that while she was scared, she was also excited about this new phase of her life. I was happy for her and planned on supporting her in any way I could. Now, everything has changed. When there were chats about names and what color crib she wanted, now there’s silence. It feels like a distant memory and in replacement with beaming smiles are now tear-filled breakdowns.

  “Thank you for dragging me out of the room. I really needed to have some girl time,” Madigan confesses while she walks over to the coffee pot and pours herself a cup.

  “It was their idea. I’m glad it got your mind off . . . things.” Shit. That was probably the most awkward thing I could say.

  “It did. They both helped spark my mind to look toward the future. It’s been a really long time since I’ve had any girl time anyway, so it was necessary.”

  Now that she’s talking about it, I’ve never heard her talk about friends back in New York. “Did you have friends back in New York?”

  She makes a face, showing me that I’m making her uncomfortable. “Once upon a time, I suppose. A few months after I met Vinny that changed with everything else. I used to be a girl who enjoyed being out on the town, going to bars and art shows with her friends. He got his clutches on me and slowly pulled me back from everyone I knew. I knew it was wrong but didn’t see the severity of what was happening. During it, I received messages from two of them basically telling me that I was an awful person,” She takes a sip of her coffee and half-smiles, trying to lighten the situation. “They didn’t know what was going on, and I didn’t see it for what it was. But in saying that, it doesn’t mean it hurt any less. I lost the two girls that were there for me through college when mom got sick. All of it. Jessa and Victoria were always there.”

  I’m not very experienced in the friendship department, considering most of my friends are people I work with. “Have you tried to reach out since you came here?”

  She shakes her head immediately, “No. I know what you’re about to say, how I should reach out and see if the friendships can be mended. It’s obvious you have good intentions, Reggie, but when two people who were your friends start treating you differently and verbally attack you through a text, it burns. I’m not pinning the blame on the two of them, but I did try to call them and reach out, to apologize for pulling back because I did feel bad for it.”

  “You know what they did? They ignored my calls, and I found out later that my number was blocked from both of their phones. The only reason I even found out is that Victoria texted me and told me. I don’t even know why. Maybe it was out of spite, she was trying to hurt me or something. I’m not really sure. Although, it was the nail in the coffin. I knew then that I needed to accept they were part of my past and look toward whatever future was coming my way.”

  Vinny was the push rolling the tumbleweed that was her friendship with these girls down the hill into the water, only to be washed away forever. But from what she’s telling me, these two sounded pretty shitty from the get-go. “Their loss, obviously.”

  “Thanks. So, Selena was filling me in about her and Chris’ situation.” She’s the only person I know who calls Christian, Chris and boy does it make me want to cackle every time I hear it.

  “While you all were chatting, I was texting them,” I state, positive I’ve been brought up to speed.

  “It’s a shame what those two are going through,” she mutters, looking frustrated for them.

  “Yeah, but they can handle it. They’re both pretty strong people.”

  “Yeah, and did you know Brooklyn was pregnant?”

  My eyes go wide at hearing her say that. There’s no way in hell today was the proper timing to tell Madigan. I nod, confessing I’ve been aware. “Yes, she told me on their wedding day. Not gonna lie, I’m kinda ticked she told you that today. It’s insensitive, if you ask me.”

  “Well, I’m not asking you. It’s not fair for everyone to have to try and protect my feelings because of the miscarriage. Either way, that baby is coming and I would’ve been told at some point. Plus, I only knew because she ran to the bathroom, which meant she had to vomit r
eally bad.”

  “Whatever you say, Mads.” I chuckle, deciding to change the subject. “So, you said you were thinking about your future. What do you mean by that?”

  “I haven’t worked in a while and I miss it. Since I finally have my freedom back, I’d love to get to work. I want to find those pieces of myself that I lost, and getting back into what I love is the right way to do that. The girls were telling me that there’s no way I’ll be doing anything without my brothers’ financial support, so it’s better to accept it now versus fighting it.”

  “They’re both right about that. Just take a look at both of them, their man is somehow rooted in what they do.”

  “Yep, as I was told. Brooklyn has a friend, who’s a real estate agent, and they’re working on finding a commercial property for me to rent downtown. Selena is having her sign guy reach out. You know, I never thought about working again until today. There’s so much to do, but I’m thinking we’ll all divide and conquer.”

  “Your storefront, office, or whatever it is will be up and running before you know it. What’s the name of your business before I forget to ask?”

  “Sprout: a Multi-service Design Company. Planting the seed to make your vision grow.” She has a beaming smile on her face, saying her company slogan like she genuinely means it. I can tell she loves her job, and I’ll be excited for her to get back to it, whenever it may be.

  “It’s a great name. Is there anything you’d like to do today?”

  “Yeah. I’d really love to go see my mother, if that’s okay.” The way she says it shows me that she’s unsure about whether or not she wants to see her. Maybe she’s scared because of the Alzheimer’s, because you never know the type of situation you’re walking into, or if you’ll be recognized as yourself or someone from the past. Either way, I’ll be there for her.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Love won’t ask you to be less of yourself, it will invite you to be more and more of you, to step into all of you.”

  ~ Butterflies Rising

  Madigan

  It’s been six months since I’ve seen her and I’m terrified, practically shaking in my shoes. You’d think I’d never met this woman in my life, that she’s nothing but a complete stranger to me, but she isn’t. She’s the one person who should know me better than anyone else, however, Alzheimer’s doesn’t allow her to. Sitting in the emerald green velvet chair of her community, I see the irony between my mother and I. While I was a prisoner in a home, she’s a prisoner to the disease that plagues her mind.

  A set of double doors open and I see a woman in a light blue pair of scrubs walk in with her, interlaced arms, laughing and smiling. Her hair is as copper as the last day I saw her. Even though her mind is sick, you’d never be able to tell from taking a glance at her. Physically, she looks well. She’s even walking better now.

  “Autumn, this is the friend I told you came to see you,” the woman tells my mother, who narrows her eyes and tries to place me. No matter how much she tries, she won’t be able to.

  Reggie is seated about twenty feet away on a couch, glancing up from looking at his phone every couple of minutes. I didn’t want him to be beside me because I thought it would be too much for both my mother and me.

  “Who— who are you?” she stammers out, the confusion already getting to her.

  “It’s me, Mom.” I smile, standing up. “But we don’t have to go into that. We can just sit and have some cookies and tea if you’d like.”

  “Madigan? No. My daughter is six years old! You’re far older than that. Get this imposter out of here, Connie. She must be some gold-digging girl trying to trick me. Get out!”

  Connie rubs my mother’s arm, speaking to her into a soothing voice. “Autumn, we talked about this a couple of minutes ago. I told you Madigan will look a lot older, but she’s still your little girl.”

  My mother isn’t having any of it, growing more irritated and bewildered by the moment. She fidgets with her hands, which she often does whenever I see her. I think it must be comforting in some way. “How does she look this old?” She doesn’t speak to me, but instead to Connie, who she’s obviously taken a liking to. There isn’t much comfort in knowing your mother has lost her mind, but I’ll find relief in knowing that the woman who helps her is compassionate.

  “A few years have passed and she grew up. She’s come to pay a visit with you. You probably don’t remember the last time, and that’s okay. Your daughter would just like to spend some time with you Autumn. Is that okay?”

  Mom’s eyes scan back from me to Connie, much like a child who is unsure of what she wants to do. “She did bring some cookies from the bakery up the road. I heard there might be some eclairs in that box of hers too.” Connie tries her best to coax the woman, to encourage her to sit down with me.

  “I hate eclairs! They better not have touched all those cookies. I swear, you can never do anything right. You never could,” she spits her words out laced with fire. When she first started speaking to me like this, I took everything personally. Through time, I realized this isn’t her, it’s the disease, but it doesn’t mean that it hurts any less.

  I look away for a moment as I breathe through the words she just said, as I was told to do by counselors when her Alzheimer’s first started coming out in this way. While I do, Reggie looks at me with concern. I know he wants to help, to make this somehow easier, but there is nothing he can do.

  “I’m sure that they’re wrapped up,” I say with a smile, covering the pain of the words she just spoke.

  “They better be or else I won’t eat any of them. I’ll be shocked if you did listen. Your father never did, then again, your father never came around because of you.” I don’t know what she’s referring to when she makes the comments about whether I listened. This is her disease at its finest.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, knowing I shouldn’t have. I’m never supposed to dig deep into what she’s thinking. Counselor after counselor told me that. The only thing it ever leads to is resentment. It’s too late now, though.

  “Your father stopped coming around when you were born. He felt too guilty for having another child, for not being around as much as he could, so he took his guilt out on me too. If I had never had you, I would’ve had the love of my life with me . . . but because of you, I lost him. He doesn’t even come to visit me, and that’s all because of you! You were a curse, Madigan.”

  Connie realizes how quickly this escalated, pulling my mother away from me. Even with every supportive person who’s directed me on how to handle the disease as a family member, I can’t help but hurt. I’m in so much pain by what she said, only she didn’t say it. I have to keep reminding myself of that. My mom didn’t say that. Alzheimer’s did.

  “Where is your father? Why won’t Roy come to see me?” she screams out from across the room, causing everyone to turn and look at the two of us.

  For the first time in ages, tears come spilling out of my eyes. I haven’t cried in so long when it comes to her, blocking most of the hurt off emotionally. But how can I refrain from crying when she has no idea of the world she lives in? When she can’t even remember he died.

  “Where is he?” She continues screaming to the point her voice cracks. I don’t know what to do, or how to react, so I walk toward her until I’m only standing a foot away.

  “He died, Mom. Dad died,” I state it clearly in a slow way so she hears me.

  She rips her arm away from Connie and lunges toward me, wrapping her hands around my neck as my body crashes against the hardwood floors. She’s towering over me, using all of her strength to choke me. I push my arms up, trying to force her off me but it’s no use. She’s using her anger to do this.

  I cough, not able to take a breath as the panic sets in.

  I might die.

  If they don’t get her off me, this could be my last memory. Like a movie playing before my eyes, my entire life flashes before me. I see a little girl dressed up as a witch running around Manhatta
n on Halloween with a jack-o-lantern bucket with her mom beside her. I see the way the girl asks for her Daddy and the disappointment that crosses her mom’s face when she tells her little girl he can’t make it. I see myself in the classroom of my preparatory school out in Washington State where Mom would ship me off to, determined that if I worked hard it would make everything better.

  Everything flashes forward to my graduation from college and how I looked out to the crowd to see either of them, but neither showed up. All I see is the emptiness that has been constantly in my life, and I don’t want it to be empty anymore.

  My mom is ripped off me and I see Reggie’s face in front of mine. “Breathe, just stay down and breathe. Okay?”

  “I— okay,” I rasp out, reaching for his hand.

  This day went and took a turn that I never expected it to.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “She’s not here to be a supportive character in your story, she has her own story too.”

  ~ Butterflies Rising

  Reggie

  Visiting Madigan’s mother went horribly wrong. In all my years providing security, I’ve witnessed some crazy shit, but never have I had to pry a mother off their child. There’s a first for everything, I suppose.

  “Who’s calling?” I ask as Madigan answers her cell. It’s probably one of her brothers, but I’d prefer to verify that instead of worry.

  “Hey, Jordan,” Madigan says into the phone, rolling her eyes at me. If she has a difficult relationship with any of them, it’s Jordan. I’ve been going back and forth for the last week, pondering the idea of giving more information on why he has such a problem with her. Jordan had a phase where he was a playboy bastard for a bit when Brooklyn first came around, although that’s long gone. He’s really been diving into the deep world of the dark lately.