Billionaire Protector: A Dark Romance

by Nikki Chase

  Then, the arrest happened, and my whole life changed.

  Life was a jungle in prison. Peace and safety disappeared, never to return again, until now.

  Wait, that's not true. There was a time after prison when it was relatively peaceful.

  Before chaos drew me back in like quicksand, for a while, I lived a normal life.

  I developed a routine, just like everyone else. I had a job I was good at, the job I’d been trained for my whole life. Work took up most of my time, business was going well under my management, and the family wealth grew and grew.

  In short, by the standards of society, I had bounced back from my hardship and was now doing better than ever. Even my parents might've been proud, if they were still alive to see me.

  But I didn't feel like I was doing any better. I didn't feel like I was doing well at all.

  I couldn't stop thinking about that day, that moment when the light went out of the emaciated man’s eyes. I kept hearing the sickening thud of his limp, lifeless body, and the small splash as he fell into a puddle, the sounds playing and replaying whenever I tried to sleep. I was so sick of the noises I tried to shut them out with ear plugs, but it only confirmed what I already knew: they came from inside my head.

  So I went back to Walter’s asparagus farm. I got in touch with Walter’s girlfriend, who had become a friend during my time working there.

  I told her about my nightmares and about what I saw in the rain that made me quit. I was afraid she'd tell Walter on me, but it turned out she was more than happy to tell me everything that was going on in the farm. She answered all my questions, then she begged me to help her get out. She also wanted to get her friends out of there.

  I said yes.

  Helping her friends led to helping her friends’ friends, and then their friends, too. Eventually, we decided to keep conducting these covert rescue missions for as long as we could find people who wanted to get out. Together, we helped the trafficked laborers escape, transporting them out in a black van with tinted windows every few months.

  That did the trick. The emaciated man stopped haunting me. He had accepted my peace offering and released his grip on me. But I knew he’d come back as soon as I stopped.

  So I sold my family home, where I had grown up with my parents, and used the money to buy some land and build a place here, big enough to house and even employ some of the men and women we’d helped.

  In the meantime, we were building a case against Walter. It was hard just to find people to testify against him in court. Walter had a strong network of thugs in the hometowns of these men and women, who’d go to extreme lengths to keep people's mouths shut.

  Those who didn't have families back home were more likely to come forward after running away. They couldn't just go out there, though. It would've been too dangerous. Walter’s men would kill them on sight if spotted.

  That’s why they lived with me. They were happy to stay under my protection on my property, even if they couldn't leave the premises.

  When Alice came under the same danger, my first instinct was to bring her here, where she'd be safe, just like those who had escaped Walter and needed to hide from him. This was the only place where there was tight security specifically designed to keep Walter’s men out.

  It’s pretty sad that I, an ex-con, was the only one who would help them.

  The police? They didn't give a shit. They didn't want to know anything about the plight of the forced laborers, even though it was literally modern slavery.

  I know this one man who managed to escape Walter’s farm and got to a store that sold Christmas ornaments all year round, out of all places.

  He reached out for help, explaining his plight to the teenager who worked part time there. He was probably a good kid, but the language barrier prevented him from understanding the man.

  The kid called the cops, who also didn't understand the language. But they understood enough to know that he didn't have any documentation. And they recognized it when he said Walter’s name and “asparagus,” so they took him back to the farm.

  Poor guy. He has a new life now, but that must've been quite a scene.

  I imagine the three of them standing around in the middle of a big-ass store full of Christmas trees, string lights, and shiny colorful ornaments, making big, wild, crazy gestures to communicate. As they walked the man back out into a warm California night, something happy would be playing on the speakers like Jingle Bells, and the part-timer kid would be wearing a Santa hat.

  What a perfectly merry backdrop to the man's return to hell. He went back to back-breaking work, not to mention actual medieval-style torture, especially after an escape attempt like that.

  See? Twisted shit like that makes me chuckle because I’m so desensitized to human suffering now.

  I know it wasn't funny for the man to have been caught and taken back to the farm, but I can't resist the absurdity of it all. I can't help finding it funny.

  When the man arrived at the farm, Walter's men were quick to say he was an uncle who didn’t speak the language and wandered off because he wasn’t completely lucid. And just like that, the police left.

  Of course, in reality he was not their uncle. They weren’t related at all, in fact; and he was in for a world of hurt. He still has scars all over his body from whatever inhumane torture they put him through.

  In my mind, that was the same fate Alice was about to face, if they got their hands on her. And since she's an attractive woman, I could just see them drooling over her, fighting with one another to decide who got to have her first.

  I know the kind of losers who were in Walter's posse. The thought of Alice falling into their hands made me want to bash their skulls in with a baseball bat until their blood splattered all over the place.

  Instead, I killed their boss with a bullet. Less satisfying, but it did the job anyway.

  I was late, though. I should’ve gotten there sooner. I shouldn’t have let Alice leave my house in the first place.

  I keep playing and replaying the events of that day in my head, over and over and over. To be honest, I don’t know any other way things could’ve played out better. Given the choices that I’d made, that was actually the best-case scenario.

  If I really cared about Alice’s safety at all, I should’ve stayed away from her, right from the beginning. I shouldn’t even have visited her at the restaurant where she worked, much less started conversations with her.

  I fucked up, majorly.

  That’s why I’m letting her go. It’s for her own good.

  I know Walter’s gone now, but there will be other guys to fill the void. Maybe not here, but in other places, all over the country.

  I can’t just slip back into the kind of normal that I used to have a lifetime ago. I’m starting to have bad dreams again, now that everything’s peaceful.

  Peace is not normal anymore. My new normal is standing up to bullies like Walter. I’m going to find the next Walter, and help his victims. That’s the only way I know how to spend my life anymore.

  I can’t just go strolling into the law firm right now and start working as if nothing has changed, as if I never got arrested and had my whole world turned upside down.

  The family business is in the hands of capable people whom I’ve handpicked myself. I maintain sporadic contact with them, giving them an emergency phone number in case I’m really needed.

  This frees up my time to help end human trafficking. I have grand visions of shutting down those operations one by one, until they’re completely gone. But, to be honest, if all my efforts could only save one more person, I’d still do it.

  I just don’t want to drag other people into it. Even Alejandra is moving on, now that Walter’s operation is shut down, and that’s okay, too.

  I exhale a deep, tired, sad sigh.

  I’m going to miss Alice.

  I’m going to fucking miss Alice.

  But she’ll be happier without me. I’ve risked my life twice to save
her, so she’d better live the hell out of her life, which I hope will be completely boring, normal, and safe.

  I’d risk my life over and over again to save her, but it would be better for her if she doesn’t have to be in that kind of danger in the first place.

  That’s why I knew exactly what to do when I woke up in the hospital. I couldn’t ever see Alice again, or my resolve might break and I might just lock her up and never let her leave my side again.

  33

  Alice

  I grab my bag from the dining chair and try to suppress my anger as I walk across this damn luxury apartment to the door.

  This is a really nice apartment, but I haven’t been able to appreciate it at all, which is a waste, really.

  I reach the parking lot, which always has rows upon rows of expensive cars, including mine. A brand-new silver Mercedes. I found the car key on the kitchen countertop inside the apartment one night, along with a piece of paper that told me where it was parked. I stick that same key in and start the engine, then pull out of my reserved parking space.

  I didn’t drive myself here. Anthony was the one who did it. He took me here straight from the hospital after that talk with Raphael.

  I spent the whole night sobbing. There were so many different emotions, all swirling around inside me and blending into one, expanding and expanding until I was ready to burst.

  I still feel all those same emotions, although they’re less intense now, one month after the incident.

  I’m sad because our goodbye was so abrupt and permanent. I feel rejected and alone. Sometimes, when I’m feeling especially masochistic, I imagine Seth telling Raphael he doesn’t want to ever see me again. It feels like Seth has punched his fist clear through my chest, grabbed my heart, and squeezed it with all his strength.

  I’m scared, now that I didn’t have Seth’s protection anymore. Even though Raphael told me I didn’t need it anymore, I can’t believe it. It just feels wrong.

  How can it be right that Seth will never save me again, and yet I’m supposed to be safer? I feel safest when I’m with him.

  I’m angry because, after everything that has happened, he still thinks he can run my life and make my decisions for me. He has decided, single-handedly, that I’m better off without him, so he sends me away. He gave me an apartment, a car, and a $200,000 check—presumably my salary for a year’s worth of work.

  Really, I should thank him for giving me so much free time. For the first time in my life, I can afford not to work. I can do whatever I want.

  Whatever I want, at this moment, happens to involve talking to Seth. So, every day for the past two weeks, I’ve been driving up to Seth’s mansion to try to see him. Really, I should say that I’ve been driving up to the gate of Seth’s mansion, because they’ve never allowed me to get any further.

  I couldn’t leave when I wanted to, and now I can’t get in, when it’s all I can think of. Ugh.

  Once, I tried to drive into the gate just to see if that would do the trick, and Anthony yanked me out of the car, shoved me onto the passenger seat, and drove me back to the city. I guess he took a cab back or something.

  I’ve come to two conclusions.

  One, I can beg and plead and demand to see him—I’ve tried all those things, by the way—but ultimately if he doesn’t want to see me, he doesn’t have to see me. He has enough money and power to keep a nobody like me far, far away.

  Two, I know how to make him want to see me. I just didn’t want to fight dirty. But I’ve reached the end of my patience. How much longer is he going to play this game with me? So I’m going to use my secret weapon: a guilt trip.

  Raphael mentioned it once, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Seth has an admirable sense of responsibility. Every major thing he has done—helping the farm workers, attacking their boss, kidnapping me—has been motivated by that dedication to his duties.

  So I’m going to remind him of his responsibilities to me. What he still owes me. What it would take for me to get closure.

  Then, he’ll have to talk to me.

  34

  Seth

  “Seth, she's here again,” Anthony says as he enters my office.

  I run my hand over my hair and massage my scalp, hoping it would clear my throbbing headache.

  “I told you to just keep her out and bring her back to the city yourself if you have to.”

  “She told me to give you this letter. She wanted me to tell you that you owe it to her to read it.” Anthony places a folded piece of paper on my desk.

  “Just go back outside and make her leave,” I say.

  “Okay. What do you want me to do about the letter? Give it back to her?”

  “No, just leave it.”

  “I knew you'd see me,” she says as she sways into my office, looking better than a million dollars in a pair of jeans and a lightweight white shirt, no doubt a good outfit for keeping cool while she stands outside my gate all day. She speaks confidently, victoriously. “You should've let me in from the first day. It would've saved us both some time.”

  “What is it that you need, Alice?” After only two weeks apart, it already feels strange to have her name on my tongue.

  Lately, I've only been chanting her name in my head, repeating it like some kind of mantra against forgetting. Because I don't ever want to forget the days when Alice lived here and I was happy, even if it was just for a short time.

  “I just need to talk to you. Isn't that obvious? A conversation. It's the one thing you haven't bribed me with.” She takes a seat across the desk from me without any prompting.

  She glances at the letter she gave Anthony earlier. All it says is: “I need to see you. You owe me that, at least, after everything you've put me through. I can't sleep, I can't work, I can't live. I deserve answers.”

  I shouldn't have read it. I knew I was going to cave, but I opened it anyway. Now, I’m sitting here in my office with the real Alice, instead of just her ghost, whom I conjure up for company. I should savor this moment, remember every detail, because this is the last time I’ll ever see her.

  “What kind of questions do you have?” I ask.

  “Will you answer all of them?”

  “To the best of my knowledge.”

  “Okay. Where's Alejandra?”

  “Huh?” I didn't expect this question at all. “This is one of the questions keeping you up at night?”

  “No, but you did say you’d answer all my questions,” she insists, defiance flashing in her big blue eyes. She looks so fucking beautiful when she's like this. My blood starts rushing, just thinking about putting her in her place on her knees, my cock jammed in her throat.

  I will my dirty thoughts away. I can't think of her that way. That's what got me into trouble the first time.

  “She quit,” I answer Alice's first question. I should just focus on answering them so my mind isn't occupied by other things.

  “Huh,” she says, mildly surprised. “I always wondered if she was working here or related to you in some way.”

  “Well, she was a little bit of both.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my lips. That answer would only lead to more questions. But my guard is always down when I'm with Alice. I can't help myself.

  “How are you related?” Alice asks, just as I expected.

  “We’re not really related, but she's like a sister to me.”

  Alice pauses. “How did you meet?”

  “Is this really something you absolutely need to know?”

  “Yes. You did agree to answer all questions.”

  “Yeah, I did.” I take a deep breath. I can't shake the feeling that she's playing a game right now, and I'm going in blind without knowing any of the rules.

  “Alejandra used to help me get people out from the farm,” I answer as succinctly as I can.

  “She's not going to help you again now? I thought you were going to continue doing the same work.”

  “Yeah, but Alejandra only had ties to that one
particular operation. She just wanted to save her friends, and now they're all free. Her job is done and she's moving on. As should you,” I remind her.

  “I don't care about the farm, or Alejandra’s friends. All I care about is you, which is why I can't just leave and forget everything.” Her words make my heart skip a beat.

  She cares about me? That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but she really shouldn't. I'm bad news.

  “So, what did Alejandra have to do with the farm?” Alice asks again, and I wonder how many more questions she has stored in her arsenal.

  “She was the boss' girlfriend,” I answer.

  “Walter?” She scrunches up her nose in disgust, and I have to laugh. She looks adorable.

  “Yeah, Walter.”

  “With a girl like Alejandra? Wow, she must be glad that's over. She can do so much better.”

  I chuckle. It's nice to finally talk to someone about this. Raphael’s not interested, and Alejandra doesn't like to discuss it, for obvious reasons.

  “Are you done with your questions? Did you come here just to ask me questions about Alejandra?” I ask.

  “Hey, I’m the one who gets to ask questions here,” she protests. Her full lips form a mischievous smile on her gorgeous face.

  “Okay.”

  “I haven't been sleeping well at all, Seth. Have you?” Alice asks, her gaze soft with concern.

  “Do you need to see a shrink? I can arrange that. I know--”

  “No, Seth,” she cuts me off. “Stop trying to do things for me. You’ve already given me everything, you're taking care of me so well, but what I really need is to talk to you. Like, really talk to you.” She gives me a sweet smile. “You’re the only shrink I need.”

  “I can't do this, Alice. You know that. When you walk out of this office, that's it,” I say firmly, even though every word feels like a sharp shard of glass, cutting up my insides and embedding pain into my flesh.