by Anya Summers
And it was people like her who colored his perception, who were the reason why he had held his feelings back with Sabrina. As much as he wanted to go to her tonight, tell her that he was wrong, that he had messed up, when she’d said that she loved him, he’d frozen, with an internal, knee-jerk panic response that all she wanted was his money.
But she didn’t want that.
If anything, he’d realized, the more he thought back over the last few weeks with her in their lives, the only money she had spent from the advance had been for her brother, and gifts for him and Dante. The clothes, shoes, jewelry, makeup, and everything else purchased so that she could play her part had been at his urging. He knew the people in his world of privilege, and how one was expected to look.
He’d bought her those things for himself. Sabrina seemed unconcerned about what she wore, or where her clothes came from. Her concern from the beginning had been taking care of her brother, and then being what he and Dante needed.
Brett wasn’t the only idiot here tonight, it seemed.
Michael had bungled things with her from the start, from that first time he had touched her, to the weekend with her in Los Angeles, to his reaction when she told him the other night in subspace that she loved him.
Christ, he had made so many mistakes with her. He wiped a hand over his face. He had witnessed the hurt in her eyes earlier when she’d left with Dante. She believed that he didn’t want her, that he was getting rid of her.
When the truth of the matter was, he was neck deep in love with her, and sinking fast.
Dante was right, as usual. Michael could swear the man must have a sixth sense where women were concerned. Sabrina was the one for them.
He wondered what she would think if she knew he wanted her, not just past the thirty days, but forever. That the idea of making their engagement real was rolling around in his brain. That the thought of seeing her round with his child, or Dante’s, thrilled him to the depths of his soul.
He needed to finish handling the problems revolving around his board at Fitzgerald Foods. Once that was behind them, and he and Dante were able to have a chat, then it would be time for a discussion about their future.
He hated that he had to compartmentalize. But until things were resolved at his company, he wouldn’t be in the right headspace to focus on Sabrina.
He shot Dante a quick text.
Michael: Brett confessed like a drink and dial session. Getting his statement recorded and written out. It’s Carla Lowell. She’s behind the subterfuge at FF.
Dante: At least you know, and can now politically eviscerate the bitch.
Michael: Precisely. Will be staying here and working with Quinten until it’s resolved.
Dante: Really, Michael? You can’t stop by for a night and make sure our girl’s fears are allayed?
Michael: I will. Once this matter is done.
Dante: You’re an idiot. Fine. Let me know how it goes.
Then he received an image attachment from Dante. It was Sabrina, naked, in his bed, her hair spread over the pillows, wearing a look of divine pleasure on her face. Michael fought back his desire, and the need to race to the mansion on three legs to join them.
He shoved the phone in his pocket and went back to work. He wasn’t doing this for himself, but for all of them. For their future.
Chapter 21
On Thursday, Michael, dressed to the nines in a tailored black suit, strode determinedly through the halls of Fitzgerald Foods with Boomer McGrady, head legal counsel for Fitzgerald, at his side, along with Quinten, his cousin Adam, and two additional uniformed officers. Before the hour was up, Carla would be in handcuffs. Michael took supreme pleasure in the knowledge that Quinten had submitted the list of things she had done to the District Attorney. Just this morning, a judge had issued formal charges, with a warrant for her arrest.
Barbara met Michael near the conference room. “All the board members are already inside.”
“Good. If you’ll go stand with these two officers near reception, make sure no one leaves,” he asked her, thinking he should see about giving her a raise, not just because she worked hard, but because he appreciated her loyalty.
“Yes, sir. And by the way, fry them,” she said with a big grin.
He was unable to stop the predatory smile from spreading over his face and he replied, “With pleasure.”
Michael and his group entered the conference room and shut the door behind them. Adam stood guard at the door, while Quinten moved into position in the room to make the arrest.
“Ladies, gentlemen. I see that we’re all here. I appreciate all of you coming on such short notice.” Michael placed his briefcase on the table.
Robert glanced speculatively at the group with Michael. “Mind telling us what’s going on?”
“Absolutely. There were some accusations made against me the last time we were in this room. Boomer has agreed to be present due to the serious nature of issues that have arisen after a thorough investigation of this matter,” Michael stated sternly.
“And what issues are those?” Dan Vandersmoot sneered. “Don’t play games with us. We all know you’re a pervert.”
“I would rather be a pervert than someone who has committed fraud and embezzlement, Dan. Be careful where you cast stones, they might just bounce back and hit you when you least expect them.” He reached into his briefcase and pulled out stacks of files compiled over the last few days. “What I have here is proof that two of our esteemed board members have embezzled upwards of two million dollars, committed fraud by submitting false books, and resorted to blackmail in an attempt to discredit me, my family name, and assume control of major shares of Fitzgerald Foods in order to continue to line their pockets, and gut this company.”
“These are very serious charges. Who would do something like this?” Victoria asked, aghast.
Michael directed his gaze to the two members in question. “Why don’t you ask Carla and Dan? Maybe they would like the chance to explain.”
“That’s preposterous. I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Dan shouted, rising from his seat.
“He’s delusional,” Carla said. “You’re nothing like your father. He never should have turned the company over to you.”
“What my father did or didn’t do has no bearing on these proceedings. You both might like to know that the District Attorney has, as of two this afternoon, filed charges against the both of you. These officers are here to serve the warrants for your arrests. It would be best if you left quietly with them.”
Carla’s face turned viperish. She opened her mouth to launch another attack.
“You might want to reconsider saying anything and digging that hole even deeper for yourself, Carla,” Michael said. “Because everything in this room is being recorded. And anything you say will be used against you in a court of law. Isn’t that right, Boomer?”
“Yes, he is correct. You might want to get yourselves some damn good lawyers, because while the State of Louisiana may be charging you criminally, Fitzgerald Foods has also filed civil suit against both of you. You can have your attorneys contact me,” Boomer said in his smooth southern accent.
“Chief Blackstone, if you would.” Michael nodded. Quinten and Adam took over. It gave Michael sublime pleasure to watch Carla and Dan be put in handcuffs and led out by police escort.
Once they had been taken out of the room, he addressed the remaining board members. “At this time, I’m going to call for all the false allegations against me to be dropped immediately.”
“Aye,” Robert said.
“I second the motion,” Victoria said.
“All in favor?” Michael asked.
James, Brad, and Katherine all were a yes.
“Good. Now that we have that out of the way, I’m going to add a caveat. If anyone in this room has intentions of going after me, or my family, or loved ones, I want your resignation on my desk by the end of this week. This company will only prosper if this board works to
gether without the kind of backstabbing and ulterior motives that have just come to light. I will not allow anyone to destroy what my family built. Do I make myself clear? I already need to conduct a search for two new members. I won’t be heartbroken if I have to search for a few more, not after the way I and my family legacy have been treated.”
“We’re sorry, Michael, we had no idea about Carla and Dan,” James replied, rather contrite.
“I’m in shock. I know both of their families. But you’re right. It didn’t sit well with me, but Dan made a very convincing case against you. For that, I apologize,” Katherine said.
“Same here,” Brad added.
“I think I can speak for all of us here when I say that I am genuinely sorry we didn’t catch the subterfuge. Your father would be proud of the work you have done,” Robert responded.
Michael nodded in acknowledge of his kind words. “Thank you. Boomer, thanks for coming today. I will let you take over from here.”
“Nicely done, Michael. My associates and I, with the assistance of a forensic accountant, will be conducting a thorough investigation into how this matter was missed for so long. I will take your initial statements today, one at a time. This way, we can curtail any oversight,” Boomer said.
Michael walked out of the conference room.
Barbara was all smiles at reception.
“Wait until you see the pictures I snapped of those two getting on the elevator!” she said with a small chuckle.
“Email them to me. If you don’t need me for anything, I’m heading home and taking an extended weekend. I will be back on Monday,” Michael said.
“Enjoy it, boss. You earned it,” Barbara replied.
He nodded and got on the elevator, feeling lighter than he had in weeks.
Late that night, after Michael and Dante had fucked Sabrina senseless, she was sprawled naked on the bed between them.
“Psst.” Michael jerked his head toward the door.
Dante nodded.
Michael rose, slipped on some sweats, and plodded out into the sitting room. It was part of the grand suite of his bedroom at the family estate. When he spent time here—which was a rarity, mainly because he attended the club regularly—he tended to relax in the sitting room and watch television here versus in the larger living room on the first floor.
Dante followed him out, shutting the door quietly behind him. “What’s going on?”
“I love her.”
Dante smiled. “It’s about freaking time you caught up.”
“Yeah. One of us needs to marry her. And I want to talk to her about going off birth control,” Michael said.
Dante snorted. “No one could ever accuse you of moving slowly once your mind is made up. I think you should marry her. You’re the one with the family name and fortune to pass down.”
“Well, I’ve been researching that as well. We could make it a civil union; have her marry both of us. We could make it a private ceremony with just our family and close friends.”
“You sure you don’t want the big, lavish society event?”
“None of those people matter to me. I will send out an announcement of my nuptials to the right crowd, with a note saying that we had a small wedding, with a photo of Sabrina and me from the big day,” Michael explained. They would use the same image for the society newspapers, and anything else of that nature. “You think Sabrina will want the big wedding?” he asked, for a minute feeling unsure that he was making the right choice.
Dante shook his head. “Knowing our girl, and I do, I think she will want something intimate that her brother can attend. She should wear a ring from each of us. Don’t you think? And I also think she should take your last name for appearances.”
“Or she could take both and hyphenate them. Fitzgerald-Rousseau has a nice ring to it,” Michael said. “And I agree about the rings. My jeweler is available tomorrow for a few hours.”
“And the bad guys have been caught. I’m game,” Dante said, with happiness radiating off him.
They sat in the sitting room, going over all the details of how they planned to propose the following night at the penthouse. They divvied up tasks and formulated the best way to accomplish it all in a few hours. They’d call in some favors, of course.
And then they would truly claim Sabrina, make her theirs for always. It was the best plan Michael had had in years.
Chapter 22
The next afternoon, Sabrina lounged out by the pool, soaking up the gorgeous rays with a heavy heart. Her bags were packed. She’d gone online and rented a fully furnished apartment for the next month until she found something more permanent.
Her heart twisted at the thought of leaving Dante and Michael. But she wouldn’t allow herself to be the cause of driving a wedge between best friends.
She would give them until tonight before she said goodbye. Michael didn’t need her anymore. If he wanted her to still attend functions with him until the thirty days was up, she would. But only because she needed to be able to pay for Alex’s care.
And Dante… he would forgive her. Eventually. She hated that she knew she was going to hurt him.
But the thing was, she couldn’t be with them and not love them both. She ached with love for them. It was something she’d never believed she would ever experience. And she knew deep down, they were it for her.
So if she stayed, she worried about the day when Michael would move on. About the resentment that would build up inside Dante, knowing that he had been forced to choose between them. That it would one day turn to hate, and cause a rift between them too.
She couldn’t live with it. It would crush her heart.
This would hurt, more than anything she had ever done, including putting Alex in the facility. But she would recover some day. Sabrina realized it was the coward’s way out—her plan to move out, to end her relationship with them after she had been the one hoping for more. She could rationalize her decision all day long. But it was her decision. And it was the right one.
Dante was at his club in the Quarter. Michael had gone into the office. Both had promised to return by dinnertime to ravish her.
She would go up in a bit to shower and pamper her skin, get herself prepared for their last night together. She wanted it to be memorable, and she had just the outfit that would drive them both mad with lust.
Knowing her guys, she would end up on the menu, leaving dinner cold and forgotten the moment they spied her in the itty bitty lace babydoll.
She took a sip of her iced tea, and her cell phone rang. Glancing at the number, she didn’t recognize it, and let it roll over to voicemail. When it rang a second time from the same number, she wondered if it could be an auxiliary number at Houmas Assisted Living Facility, calling to let her know that Alex had had another accident.
Worried her brother could be injured, she answered, “Hello.”
“Sabrina Thomas?” a feminine voice said.
“Yes, how can I—”
“Listen up bitch,” the woman said.
And then Sabrina heard it: “No, no, no, bad mouse in the house. Get away, bad mouse.”
“Alex!” she yelled. “What’s going on?”
“I have your brother, sweetheart, and unless you do what I say to the letter, well, this Glock I’m holding just might point itself at his head, and shoot. Get the picture?”
“What do you want? I don’t have anything. I-I have a ring and a necklace.” Sabrina squeezed her eyes shut. How she hated to part with her collar, because Michael and Dante had given it to her, but there was nothing she wouldn’t give up to save her brother’s life, including her own.
“I like how you think. Bring those and yourself to this warehouse.” She rattled off the address. “You have forty-five minutes to get here, or your brother dies. Go to the police, he dies.”
“That’s not enough time, I’m not in the city. Please.”
“Forty-five minutes. The clock is ticking, starting now,” the woman said, and hung up.
Sabrina stared at her phone screen, shaking. Think. How could she do this without getting both herself and her brother killed?
The clock on her phone clicked over, displaying a minute had passed. With no time to lose, she left her drink, towel, and book out by the pool. She raced up to the bedroom. Tossed on a pair of jean shorts and a tee shirt. She shoved her feet into a pair of battered sneakers. Then she went to her jewelry box, lifted the lid, and withdrew the platinum collar with the canary diamond.
She stuffed the necklace in her purse, and grabbed the keys to the Mercedes on her way out the door. She stopped in the kitchen. Michael and Dante would worry if she didn’t make it back before they got home. She scribbled a note saying that someone had her brother, and the address, and prayed they would get it in time.
Sabrina raced out the door, climbed into the Mercedes, tapped the address into the GPS, and sped away down the lane.
She had thirty minutes and counting to get across the city. She needed to call Dante and Michael. But she wasn’t the greatest driver. And at the speeds she was going—pushing ninety-five on the interstate—if she tried calling one of them, she would wreck the car.
Besides, they couldn’t get to her brother in time. She could.
She watched the minutes tick down as she swerved around cars and zoomed down rampways, honking her horn at vehicles that were going too slowly. A part of her prayed that the police would catch her speeding. Then she could lead them to the warehouse.
Her panic rose with each mile. Who had Alex? Why had they taken him? What could she possibly have that they would want? She was a nobody.
She screeched to a halt outside the warehouse, in a row of warehouses that looked deserted even in the middle of the day. She rushed out of the vehicle and ran along the building, searching for an entrance.
