The Millionaire's Revenge

by Wendy Byrne

  “But if he gets indicted, Grace will be brought in as well. I have no qualms about Whitaker, but she’s innocent and her name will be muddied in the process. And I’m not going to do that. Ever.” Luke patted his friend on the back and smiled. “Don’t you get it? I don’t care about getting the project back.”

  “Now I’m really confused. I’ll call up my doctor and he’ll give you Xanax or something to make you come around and be yourself again.”

  “I don’t want to be myself anymore.”

  “Did you hit your head? Concussions can make a person act really weird. We can backtrack with the state and get this all settled before—”

  Luke held up his hand. “Nope. I’m done. If you don’t want to continue as my lawyer, I understand.”

  Sal walked toward the door. “You might have a bigger problem if you intentionally destroyed evidence of fraudulent activity, which I believe you just did. You could be brought up on charges yourself.” When Luke didn’t respond, Sal stopped. “If you come to your senses, you let me know.”

  “I hope that never happens.” He guided his attorney to the door and closed it behind him.

  Next, he picked up the phone and did the only thing he could—negotiate the best deal he could for the woman he loved. After he finished, he poured himself a drink, despite the fact it was barely noon.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  When her doorbell rang Wednesday morning, Grace wanted to pretend she hadn’t heard it. But the insistent pounding didn’t stop. “Ms. Wilson, this is Claire Stringer, district attorney. I need to talk to you. Please open the door.”

  Crap. It had to have something to do with the looming indictment against her father. No way could she run away from this. Instead, she shuffled to the door and let her in. “How can I help you?”

  “I understand these are unusual circumstances, and you can have an attorney present to protect your interests. We are seeking information about your father’s business practices as it relates to the acquisition of real estate. Do you know anything about that?”

  “I don’t know anything more than what you’ve already received.”

  The woman shook her head. “But that’s just it. We are waiting on the indictment to have the solid proof to connect the dots. If you help us with that, we can guarantee your name will be left out of it.”

  “But I thought…”

  “Mr. McCall is refusing to cooperate and if he continues, I’ll have no choice but to file charges against him for withholding evidence. His attorney suggested you might have the information I need.”

  “Luke didn’t…” Her heart seemed to flip flop in her chest. He didn’t sell her or her father out. Everything was in her hands.

  …

  After a week, the numbness had subsided except for the pain in her chest. Grace still cried, but at least she’d gotten out of bed to make some tea this morning. Tess and Felicia had been popping in and making a nuisance of themselves, but she understood. They were worried about her. Not that she blamed them.

  One step at a time would be her new mantra.

  She glanced in the mirror and confirmed she indeed looked like she belonged in The Walking Dead—pale face, red-rimmed eyes, crazy hair—yep, definitely a zombie lookalike. She’d managed to brush her teeth this morning—you go girl—without breaking down in pity tears when she remembered Luke and her fighting over sink privileges in the morning—shaving versus blow drying, which turned into something far more interesting involving very little clothes. Poignant memories didn’t change reality.

  She might have washed her hair a couple of days ago but couldn’t remember blow drying it or even brushing it for that matter. “Whatever,” she mumbled as she did her old lady shuffle down the stairs and into the kitchen. At least she was up and moving and making her way toward the coffee pot. She might be able to survive this after all.

  Someone knocked on her front door. Maybe if she ignored it, they’d go away. But instead, a few minutes later they knocked again. “I’m fine. Go away.”

  “It’s me, dear.” Mrs. Harrington’s voice filtered through the door. “I’ve locked myself out and I’m pretty sure I gave you my spare key.”

  “Be right there.” Grace ran her fingers through her hair, forcing her brain to engage and remember where she’d put the key. Finally, she walked into the pantry and pinned to the bulletin board was an envelope that said “Mrs. Harrington’s Key.” She slipped her fingers inside, retrieved the key, and snagged a cup of coffee before walking toward the door.

  She’d tell Mrs. Harrington she’d been sick to help explain her current state and get her to leave quickly. Peeking through the peephole, she didn’t see her. The woman was short, but not that short. She opened the door a crack, then wider. While the woman tended to be scatterbrained, Grace didn’t think she’d forgotten why she’d knocked in the first place.

  Holy hell, now she was going to have to go onto the front porch and see where the woman had gone. The cool late November breeze blew the last of the leaves around the front sidewalk as she stepped outside. A hint of snow fluttered in the wind as her body shivered.

  “Grace.” His voice came from the left. But she couldn’t look. Afraid he was there, afraid he wasn’t.

  Mrs. Harrington waved from her doorstep. “Found the key after all. But glad I could help.” Her words seemed to break through the space-time continuum or something weird like that, because her life paused and then restarted again. That had to be the only explanation.

  “I’m sorry I had to do that. But I couldn’t think of another way…” His voice trailed off as he stared.

  If she cared, she’d be obsessing about how she looked, but she didn’t. Instead, she took a sip of her coffee and turned to go back inside. He stopped her with a hand on her arm. Relishing the feel of his skin on hers even through the fabric of her robe, it took every ounce of willpower she had to shrug him off.

  “Whatever you’re selling, I’m no longer interested.” When he followed her inside, she turned. The anger that had boiled over a week ago once again rose to the surface. She poked him in the chest with a bitten-off fingernail. “You do not get to invade my life again. You blew that chance when you spied on me, lied to me, made me fall…” Her voice trailed off as the words she wanted to say constricted her throat.

  “I could tell you I’m sorry every day for the rest of my life, but it wouldn’t be enough to make up for what I did.”

  She glared at him and placed her hands on her hips. “Damn right. So why are you here?”

  He shook his head. “I thought maybe you might give me a second chance.”

  “You’re joking, right?” A butterfly of hope lit inside her chest, but she pushed it away. How could she ever trust him again? He was just like her father. She didn’t trust Cyrus and he was blood. Blood she’d insured would be facing an indictment. “Everything you’ve said and done over the last few weeks has been nothing but a lie. Why would I believe anything you said ever again?”

  “I’d mistrust me, too. But because of you, I’m a changed man. I want to thank you for that. You made me think about more than making money and screwing people over to make sure I got and stayed on top. Because of you I’ve become a human being not a pod person.”

  She tried not to smile. “A pod person?”

  “You know what I mean. I’m pouring my heart out to you, and I want you to look in my eyes. I know you’ll be able to tell that I’m being real. I love you, Grace Wilson. Everything about you. From your quirky sense of humor, to your brilliance, to your compassion, to your breathtaking beauty inside and out, to the way you walk. Hell, I love the way you sip your coffee. If that doesn’t prove I’ve gone over the deep end, nothing does.” He drew in a breath. “I thought I might be able to survive without you in my life, but I learned over the last week that was impossible. All I could think about is you.”

  “You talk a good game, but you’ve always talked a good game and let’s face it, I’m right up there as an example of how
your smooth talking ways hurt.”

  “But I’ve listened to you and thought about what you’d said. You told me about the housing shortage in New York, how you intended the Hudson Project to be a mixed-income building.”

  She emitted a bitter laugh. “Well that ship has sailed so to speak. You’ve gotten your wish, and it’s all yours to make yet another fortune.”

  “But I’ve gifted it to you. Here’s the paperwork. It was my dream project, but without you, there is no dream.” He handed her the architectural drawings he’d done, a bill of sale to her as the owner free and clear. “I’m going to be at your beck and call in terms of what I can do to help you. You can use the plans I drew up or your own. It’s been your dream, and I’m here to make sure it gets built exactly the way you want it.”

  Her breath hiccupped as she looked into his eyes. “This looks legit.” She examined the paperwork. “But your plans look almost identical to my father’s…”

  She should have known her father’s architect wouldn’t have demonstrated the attention to detail Luke had. It was so different from the designs he’d normally come up with—concrete boxes with large windows.

  “I wasn’t going to mention it, but he stole them from me.”

  “My father is an ass.”

  “I figured that out a while ago.” He gave her a quick smile, but she refused to allow her heart to melt. “The part I can’t forgive myself for is allowing Cyrus to drag me into the mud with him. I tend to be competitive.”

  She grinned despite the urge to resist. “I got that sense the minute we hit the dance floor that first night.” It had started then, and this attraction had only got stronger every day that went by. Damn it. She didn’t want to get sucked into this with him again. She’d only begun to dig her way out.

  “I’m not naive enough to expect you to forgive me, but I’d like it if you could give me another chance. Whatever you want, I’ll do it if I can.”

  She huffed a breath. “Are you sure you want to give me that much power?”

  “Absolutely. Besides, take it from me, being powerful is way overrated. In fact, I’ve learned it’s pretty much an illusion. I always thought I had everything I’d always wanted, but couldn’t have been more wrong.”

  “Explain that in detail. I need to know everything you’re saying now isn’t the same old recycled BS you’ve told me before.”

  “I always thought if I remained in control, full-steam ahead, I could determine my destiny. The more money I reaped in, the more I wanted…the next million, ten million. Because I had this illusion that it would make me happy. Money would settle this unquenchable thirst inside me. But money doesn’t mean jack-shit if you don’t have someone beside you that makes you feel alive. Someone who makes you laugh and makes you want to be the best you can be.”

  Her heart melted a little, especially when she spotted the sparkle of a tear in his eye. “The first thing you need to do is kiss me and we’ll go from there.” He obliged her request with a chaste touch of his lips.

  “I know in my heart you’re the one for me.” He smiled.

  She chuckled. “You did not just quote Runaway Bride on me, did you?”

  “See? I was paying attention, even though you thought I’d fallen asleep.”

  She wound her hands around his neck. “Can you give me a quote from another one of the chick flicks we watched?”

  He rested his forehead on hers. “The best thing you can do is find someone who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you. I’m hoping that’s you.”

  “Juno?” She couldn’t help herself and combed her fingers through his hair when he nodded.

  “Chick flicks have more words of wisdom in them than I imagined.”

  “And don’t even tell me you aren’t thinking of the body shots.” He had to be, since she could recall every vivid detail.

  “I’m not going to lie to you, I’ve thought a lot about that and other things we did together—even ones that didn’t involve sex. And I swear to you, I was trying to not cross the line, but I…caved.”

  “You took one look at this”—she waved her hands down her body starting with her rat hair to her comfy old bathrobe—“and you couldn’t resist. I get that a lot.”

  He laughed. “Exactly.”

  “Well, I’m not caving to your smooth talking ways this time.”

  “Don’t blame you. It’s all about you for real this time. I now know a good thing when I see it. Your wish is my command.”

  “Don’t get me started. You never know where I might end up.”

  “That’s the fun part isn’t it? In fact, that’s what I love most about you. You are your own person. Be damned about anyone else.”

  She bit her lip as the word love sprung out of his mouth like he was saying do you want more coffee. Instead of focusing on that, she kept her thoughts on track. “Some people wouldn’t call that exactly admirable—”

  He stopped her litany with a kiss. The warmth of his lips on hers was simultaneously indescribable and welcoming. “Give me their names, because I need to give them a little what for. They’re idiots.”

  “So what does this mean…” She waved her shaky hands between them. “Between us.”

  “It means I’ll do anything and everything it takes to get you to forgive me. I know it’ll take time to prove myself, but I’m in this for the long haul. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since the minute I laid eyes on you. Then you talked in that funny, self-deprecating way you do and I realized despite your money, your social status, you’re your own person. You care about others—deeply—and it made me love you even more.”

  “But—”

  He put a finger to her lips. “And I know it looked like I used you, and maybe I did, but that lasted for about the first minute and a half. After that, the part of me that I kept trying to stuff down and hide from roared to life, and I couldn’t stay away from you. Truth is, being around you makes me a better person.”

  “You talk a good game, but how can I trust you again?”

  “I’ll prove it to you, somehow.”

  It would almost have been better if he’d cheated on her with another woman. That she could have recognized more quickly and kicked him to the curb. But he hadn’t. This called for something else.

  “You know how I tested you by dancing, the bachelorette thing, shopping, the opera? Maybe you need to prove yourself in some way like that.”

  “I kind of enjoyed that lingerie shopping excursion. I did find out where to pick up those handcuffs.”

  She barked a laugh. “First thing on the agenda is attending your brother’s wedding in the spring. I’ll be damned if I’ll let you not forge a relationship with him and be happy about it.”

  “I already emailed him. It’s going to be a little awkward, but as long as you’re with me, it’ll work out. What else?”

  “You’re going to go condo shopping with me all over Manhattan and not complain. Not once. Even if I see a thousand places and don’t like a single one.”

  “I’m happy to do that. But why don’t you move into my place? It would be much easier to get me to do your bidding.”

  Her heart caught fire inside her chest, but she resisted the urge to throw herself into his arms. She could not fall that easily for his charms. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Duly noted. What else can I do?”

  “I’ll think of something.”

  “And I’m sure you will.”

  “And you’ll love every minute of it,” she commanded.

  “As long as I’m with you everything else is frivolous details.”

  Epilogue

  Luke held Grace’s hand as they sat next to each other in the small gathering. While he’d like to say he was reluctant to be here, she was right in forcing him to come.

  “This is beautiful,” she whispered in his ear as she snuggled closer. “Shame on me. I never imagined Iowa could be this picturesque. And Frankie…she�
��s a beautiful bride… I’m so frickin’ jealous of her hair. It’s so curly and fun and…well…so…Cher in Moonstruck-ish—when she went to the opera—not to bring up our clunker of a date.”

  “Hmmm…as I recall…it was the first time I saw you naked.” He wiggled his eyebrows and nuzzled her neck.

  “Well there was that bright point until you had that accounting emergency.” She rolled her eyes at him.

  His attention came back to the ceremony when the minister spoke. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride, Rafe.” The entire group erupted into cheers. Silver and black balloons were released from a net and floated into the sky as his brother swooped his new wife into his arms and laid a kiss on her.

  The twosome held hands as they walked through the crowd and stopped when they got to Luke and Grace. Frankie yanked him into a hug that felt both welcoming and strong while Rafe did the same to Grace. What surprised Luke even more was when his brother hugged him as well. The years and mess between them seemed to disappear as they both had finally made peace with their troubled childhoods. He got the sense that things would be completely different between them from now on.

  He looked at Grace out of the corner of his eye and grasped her hand. Since that first day, she’d altered his life and the way he looked at things—dark became light, hate and anger became love and caring. Her unwavering faith and trust in him taught him about how not to be afraid to be a part of something bigger than himself.

  He never understood the idea of being emotionally intertwined with someone else. It had gone against the grain of his thinking…and then Grace fell into his life. A piece of him that had been missing slipped into place.