BLACKMAIL_A billionaire blackmail romance

by Chloe Fischer

  Ayla opened her mouth to answer, but no words poured out. She suddenly realized how unfair what she had said to him was.

  I probably enjoyed it more than he did, she thought, her cheeks flaming.

  “Of course not,” she muttered, dropping her head in shame. “I…I just wanted to make my position clear.”

  He nodded curtly and retrieved his glass from it’s spot on the coffee table.

  “Fine. You’ve done that.”

  An overwhelming confusion seemed to drown Ayla as she peered at him.

  The attraction between them was undeniable, but it was impossible to read him about anything else. Someone had really fucked him over at one time. He kept every shred of emotion locked tight inside, never letting anyone catch a glimpse of what he was really feeling. It was like he just couldn’t let someone know that he liked them or enjoyed being with them.

  What am I thinking? She asked herself sadly. I’m only here to fuck him over for Ryland, she thought grimly.

  To Ayla, Diren Benning could only be her boss and a potential mark. He was a playboy and a bastard who cared only for himself. She had to remember that!

  He had made that clear in his dealings with Windchime and Vanessa Stanhope, hadn’t he?

  But she could not shake the feeling that there was something more to Diren, something which he kept well below the scowling, frigid persona he showed off to everyone else.

  It doesn’t matter who he is deep down, Ayla continued her mental argument, annoyed with herself. Your job is NOT to get to know anything about Diren Benning, but to get his offshore account numbers.

  Ryland had not been around in a while but Ayla lived with the constant knowledge that he would simply reappear in her Brooklyn apartment anytime.

  And that’s exactly what Ryland wanted. He wants me looking over my shoulder. He wants me to stay on edge and always be worried about when he’s going to turn up.

  “Why are you just standing there?” Diren snapped, and Ayla realized that she had remained in place, lost in her reverie, thoughts scattered between her work life and personal life.

  Although there is really no line anymore, is there? She thought, gritting her teeth.

  “And I meant what I said about red in the office,” he ordered, fastening his belt and running a strong hand through his dark hair. “I don’t like it.”

  “Fine, Your Majesty,” Ayla muttered, rolling her eyes almost into the back of her head.

  “Well, obviously you didn’t hear me,” he snapped. “Because you’re wearing a fucking red shirt,” he ground out.

  “I get it,” she said tightly. “But I’ve got to tell you, that’s a really weird rule to have in an office. Why would you possibly care what color blouses your staff wears?”

  He ignored her completely, but when he took his seat behind his Parnian desk, Ayla could not stop herself from watching him through her peripheral vision and wonder what his story was; his real story.

  No one is born so cold, she reasoned. Someone did something terrible to him, betrayed him somehow. Just like you’re doing? Her traitorous mind mocked her.

  He watched as Ayla got up from her desk and he felt his jaw tighten. He was fucking this up badly, even for him.

  After the first time he had had her, he couldn’t get her out of his head. That wasn’t like him at all. How the hell had she gotten under his skin? He could smell her subtle perfume when she walked by, and his cock got hard. It was like he had the body of a thirteen year old again.

  Where was his control? He prided himself on never feeling anything for a woman. After Sloane, anyways. It’s not like he didn’t realize Sloane had fucked him up for all time – it’s just that he didn’t care. Who wanted to be vulnerable like that? He just wasn’t going to let it happen, he decided. Women were a dime a dozen for someone like him. He could use them and discard them and always forget them. Until Ayla. He thought about her before he fell asleep, usually with his cock in his hand, and then she was the first thing on his mind when he opened his eyes. It just wasn’t right.

  And she looked at him like she wanted his hands all over her – again.

  He had to do something, this was crazy. He probably just needed a distraction, he had decided. There were lots of women out there. He just needed to take one. And chase Ayla out of his head. For good.

  So the next day, he had called Ginny to his office for a “meeting”. Ginny was the perfect choice, because she knew exactly what he was like and she was totally on board with it. They took enjoyment from each other frequently, while both forgetting the other as soon as one left the room. The problem was, for the first time ever, Diren hadn’t enjoyed Ginny’s attentions earlier. If Ayla hadn’t walked into the room, he would have stopped Ginny a moment later, given up.

  That alone was unbelievable. He’d never lost interest in a woman during the act. Once he put his mind to a job, he always got it done. What was he going to do? He would not let a woman tie him in knots again.

  He demanded that his body stop lusting for her. And his body turned around and laughed in his face. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How was he going to deal with her?

  Chapter Ten

  10 Years Ago

  The sweet smell of Paris in springtime wafted through him like the tired cliché it was but Diren couldn’t supress the swell of excitement in his chest as he gazed out onto the Seine.

  It was his first time in the City of Lights and he could not escape the magic anywhere he turned.

  Young lovers walked arm in arm, appearing so appropriately French, lost in each other’s eyes and oblivious to all else around them, especially not an average looking American who seemed to shrink into the shimmering shadows.

  Diren was transfixed by the beauty and he closed his eyes, feeling a gentle wind caress his cheeks.

  I hope you’re looking up at me from Hell, you old fuck, he thought with amused bitterness. I got to see Paris and you died alone in your miserable retirement home, just as I had always predicted. He thought of his dichotomous father. How could a parent be both and neglectful and abusive? Shouldn’t one preclude the other?

  “Oh! Pardonez-moi!”He was startled from his bitter reverie.

  His eyes fell open as something grazed his cheek and suddenly a film of red covered his face.

  The tickle caused him to smile as the woman ran to retrieve the runaway scarf taunting him in the wind.

  Diren reached out and snatched it before it went beyond the rail and into the sparkling river below.

  “Merci beaucoup!” the woman gasped as he handed it to her. “Je ne sais pas que – “

  Diren held up his hand and shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

  “Je…ne…parlez…uh, parle…pas le Francais,” he stammered.

  Her blue eyes brightened instantly and Diren found his slate eyes travelling down the front of her form fitting red dress, across her luscious breasts and toward her legs.

  He was sure he had never seen a lovelier sight in his life.

  “You’re American?” she asked in perfect English and he darted his eyes back up her body to her beautiful face.

  He nodded.

  “Yes,” his ears honing in to her southern drawl.

  “Oh, thank God!” she sighed, breaking into a wide, white smile.

  He extended his hand and she accepted it coyly.

  “Diren Benning,” he told the stunning blonde. “Entrepreneur.”

  Her grin seemed to broaden.

  “Sloane Matthews,” she replied. “Lady in red.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Before her mind wandered any further, her cell rang and Ayla bristled as she glanced at caller ID. Dammit, it’s like just thinking about betrayal called him forth, she thought miserably.

  She allowed it to go to voicemail.

  Instantly, it began to ring again and Diren looked up in annoyance.

  “Are you going to answer that?”

  I wasn’t about to, she thought, but she did not want to run the risk of Ryland showing up
at her office unannounced.

  “Hello?” she whispered into the cell. “I’m at work.”

  “Hey, sis,” Ryland drawled and Ayla felt the hairs on the back of her neck rising.

  “Ryland, I’m working. Can I call you later?”

  “Sure,” he said agreeably. “But I just wanted to let you know that your mama is in the hospital.”

  The world began to spin around Ayla and she dropped back against her chair in shock.

  “What did you do?” she hissed, her eyes darting nervously toward Diren, but he did not seem to be paying any attention to what she was saying.

  “Me?” Ryland asked innocently. “I didn’t do anything!”

  “What happened?” she choked, stifling a sob. “Oh my God, Ryland…”

  “It seemed that damned screen door finally collapsed and shattered on her when she was going out for smokes this morning. You should probably come see her. She got a lot of stitches and she ain’t pretty.”

  Ayla swallowed heavily, trying to hold back her vomit.

  “Ryland, please, tell me you didn’t do anything,” she whispered, her eyes huge and trained on Diren, but he had slipped his earbuds in, his eyes trained on the computer before him.

  “What can I say, sweet sis? If you don’t take care of things like you’re supposed to, bad things happen. Anyway, gotta go. She’s at the Good Samaritan in Suffern if you’re interested.”

  Ryland disconnected the call before she could respond and Ayla stifled the urge to scream.

  There would be no end to this sick game with Ryland.

  She had no choice but to continue her relationship with Diren before her mother ended up in the same horrific position as Ryland’s father.

  ________________

  Although he had pretended not to be listening, he had overheard some of the conversation she was having on the phone.

  “Where are you going now?” he asked, exasperated. But when she looked at him, his heart stopped for brief second.

  There was a combination of fear and panic in her eyes which seemed alien to her innocuous features.

  “I have to go,” she breathed and for a moment, he thought she was going to pass out.

  Diren leapt to catch her, realizing something was genuinely amiss.

  “What happened?” he asked and she shook her head, staring at him uncomprehendingly as tears filled her eyes.

  “My mom was…” her voice cracked. “My mom got hurt. I need to get to Suffern right now.”

  He nodded, holding her arm to steady her.

  “I’ll drive you,” he told her, escorting her from the inner office.

  “Mr. Benning, your – “

  “Cancel the rest of my day, Catrina,” he told the receptionist, cutting her off in mid-sentence.

  He didn’t need to turn around to know she was gaping at him.

  “Was it a car accident?” he questioned. It seemed like the obvious guess.

  What else happens where people get hurt? Car accidents or…

  He didn’t allow his mind to venture there, not yet.

  It was then that he realized that he could have taken his private elevator to the parking garage.

  Why didn’t I?

  He didn’t have time to ponder the incongruity of what he had done, feeling the eyes of all the employees on them.

  “No,” she whispered. “I – I don’t really know the details.”

  She slumped up against the wall of the car, her eyes cast down and Diren wondered why she was lying.

  “What did you do?”

  The words she had spoken on the phone filled his head and Diren was suddenly inexplicably angry.

  Had someone hurt her mother? Was it a domestic situation that they were walking into?

  Diren’s shoulders tensed as the elevator doors opened and he guided her toward his Mercedes parked next to the entrance for easy access.

  Abruptly, Ayla stopped in her tracks and stared at him.

  “What’s wrong?” he demanded and she shook her head.

  “You can’t take me,” she breathed. “I – I have to rent a car.”

  Diren snorted.

  “You can barely walk. How are you going to drive, Ayla?”

  She only stared at him, the tears still shimmering in her eyes.

  Immediately he softened his tone.

  “It’s fine,” he told her, unlocking the passenger door with his fob. “I don’t mind.”

  “You don’t understand,” she gasped. “You can’t…”

  But she quickly realized that her argument was futile as he completely ignored her protests and directed her into the seat on the passenger side.

  When she made no move to buckle herself in, he leaned across her body and did it.

  He wondered if she was going to be all right but instead of pressing her further, he simply slipped into the driver’s seat and pulled out of his spot.

  “Which hospital in Suffern?” he asked, turning on his GPS.

  “Good Samaritan Hospital,” she murmured, turning to stare out the window.

  Manhattan traffic was not as bad as he had expected but his focus was less on the drive and more on figuring out what was happening.

  He knew from experience that if it was a domestic situation, Ayla would be defensive of whomever had landed her mother in the hospital.

  I always was defensive of dad when the police came knocking on our door, he thought bitterly.

  He managed to maintain his silence as they drove, pretending not to notice the tears slipping quietly down Ayla’s face.

  When she finally spoke, she cleared her throat nervously.

  “I shouldn’t have let you take me,” she said and he glanced at her. “I should be going alone.”

  “Well it’s a little late for that,” he replied. “We’re halfway there now.”

  She exhaled deeply and Diren could not help but wonder what was truly bothering her.

  “My mother is…not an easy woman under the best of circumstances,” she started and suddenly Diren understood.

  “I don’t care where you came from, Ayla,” he told her simply. “I didn’t exactly grow up on a private jet either.”

  She stared at him in surprise and he chuckled.

  “What? Did you think I was some Donald Trump Junior trust fund baby with a gold umbilical cord clamp encrusted in diamonds?”

  “Of course not!” she replied sharply. “No infant could withstand the weight of diamonds at that age.”

  He started to laugh, her quick wit startling him, although why he was surprised, he couldn’t say exactly.

  There was nothing about Ayla Dumas which was simple or cheap. She was raw, real and possibly too smart for her own good.

  Diren couldn’t deny that he liked her smart though.

  How long has it been since I felt challenged by a woman? He thought. I feel like I never have been. Women always just fall into my lap and try to change themselves to be whoever I want them to be. Or rather, who they think I want them to be.

  “Well, you don’t really know anything about me,” he murmured, turning his full attention back to the road.

  Ayla fell silent again and he wondered what she was thinking.

  Soon after their brief conversation, he steered the car down Lafayette Avenue toward the hospital.

  Ayla visibly tensed as the building approached.

  She jerked her head around and the panic seemed to return to her soft azure eyes.

  “You can go back now,” she whispered. “There’s no need for you to stay.”

  He half-smiled, pulling into the hospital parking.

  “Are you kidding me?” he asked, shaking his head. “I just drove two hours to get you here and you’re going to send me back without even a cup of coffee? I don’t think so.”

  She peered at him, trying to figure out why he wanted to stay. He could read the naked worry in her eyes.

  “Don’t stress,” he told her as he parked. “Everything is going to be fine.”

 
He reached for her hand and squeezed it reassuringly and for some reason, the touch scorched him.

  Clearly it was not the first time they had felt each other’s skin but there was something different in that comforting hold, something affectionate.

  Guiltily, Diren withdrew his palm. Without meeting her eyes, he reached for the door handle.

  I am avoiding a stare for the first time in how many years? He wondered. What is this woman doing to me?

  “Diren?” she said softly and he grudgingly pivoted back in the smooth leather to look at her.

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  The kiss was sweet and unexpected, sending shivers through him.

  Inexplicably, he thought of the ways he had taken her without affection and he couldn’t understand how he had done that.

  Fuck, do I have feelings for this woman? God help us both.

  They climbed from the car slowly and Diren clasped her hand in his.

  Now it made sense why he hadn’t taken the private elevator in the office; he had wanted the others to see them leaving together. He was subliminally staking his claim to her and he wanted everyone to know it. Crap.

  Just as he was doing by gripping her fingers between his.

  As they entered the front of the building, Ayla led the way to reception.

  “I am looking for my mother,” she said worriedly.

  “What’s her name?” a bored woman asked at the service desk.

  “Beth Ann Duggan.”

  The clerk typed in the information.

  “Oh dear. She’s in surgery, honey. She won’t be done for a while.”

  “Surgery?” Ayla cried. “What do you mean surgery? For what? What happened?”

  “Calm down now, honey. You can speak to her doctors on the third floor. Go to the nurse’s station and they will help you there.”

  The last words were barely out of her mouth as Ayla started rushing toward the stairs.

  “Ayla, you have to remain calm. They do surgery for everything these days,” he tried to reason, but he could hear how empty the words were to his own ears. “Operations are hardly a big deal anymore.”