BLACKMAIL_A billionaire blackmail romance

by Chloe Fischer

  Bullets and blood, and bullets and blood, and bullets and blood…

  The constant refrain played in her mind like something out of a horror film, but she could not silence the tune in her mind.

  She did not know how long she had walked but it was as if her mind had left her body and she was nothing but a numb vessel, moving through space down a lonely country road which seemed to lead nowhere.

  Until the farmhouse appeared like a mirage, beyond a row of dairy cows grazing in the lea. She needed to knock on the door and use the phone. She wanted the nightmare to be over before she fell into the abyss which was threatening to consume her.

  How can you eat at a time like this? She wanted to scream at the cows who barely acknowledged her as she climbed the fence.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  His voice was like a thousand knives stabbing into her back and she turned to look into his inky, void eyes.

  He hung out the driver’s side window, ready to pounce if she took another step in the wrong direction.

  “We have to call the police,” she whispered. “We have to – “

  “Get in the car, Ayla,” he said flatly.

  “We have to call – “

  “Get in the car,” he told her again and there was no mistaking the malice in his voice. “I took care of it.”

  She stared at him blankly, the words making little sense to her jumbled mind.

  “What – “

  “GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!”

  He lunged to open the door, but she scrambled back over the pasture toward the road.

  He watched her carefully, as if worried she would flee as he shifted back into the driver’s side.

  When she closed the door, he sped back up the lane, his mouth a gash of annoyance.

  “What did you do?” she asked after several minutes of silence.

  “I took care of your mess,” he retorted.

  “What does that mean?”

  He glanced at her through his peripheral vision.

  “What I said. No one will know anything.”

  “How – I mean – “

  “Just shut up, Ayla. You will never speak of this to anyone again, got it?”

  A flood of mixed emotions flew through her as she stared at him.

  “Do you understand?” he yelled again. “Answer me and stop staring at me like a retard!”

  She nodded slowly, gulping back the lump in her windpipe.

  “Yes,” she breathed. “I understand.”

  He seemed to relax with her words and his white knuckles loosened on the steering wheel.

  “Okay,” he said, and she got the sense that he was speaking more to himself than her. “We have to get rid of this car and we’re done.”

  She bit on her lip to keep from asking him any other questions.

  “Well?” he asked, sneering at her. “Haven’t you got anything to say to me?”

  She looked at him with wide, terrified eyes.

  “Like what?” she asked, blinking uncomprehendingly.

  “How about ‘thank you’, ungrateful little bitch,” he snarled. She winced and drew back as if he was going to hit her, although he made no move to do so.

  “Thank you,” she gasped, tears welling in her eyes again.

  His leer grew and suddenly she found herself more frightened than she had been before. He pulled his eyes away from the windshield, his gaze boring into her.

  His calloused palm reached out to pat her bare knee and she cringed at the touch.

  “Don’t worry, sis,” he said tightly. “I’m sure I’ll find a way for you to repay me one day.”

  _______________

  The phone rang again and this time, she answered it.

  “Girl, where the actual fuck have you been?” the annoyed female voice demanded from the other end of the phone. “You fell off the face of the earth!”

  The relief Ayla felt was so strong, she gasped and sobbed simultaneously.

  “Bitch, are you crying?” Sonia demanded with concern, and Ayla shook her head even though she knew her friend could not see her.

  “You need a drink. Come over. Angela’s making tacos. You know how us lesbos love tacos, baby.”

  Ayla had to laugh and she nodded, wiping away the stray tear from the corner of her eye.

  “All right,” she agreed, wondering how her best friend could possibly have sensed her inner turmoil.

  She really is connected to me, Ayla thought gratefully as she disconnected the call.

  Wandering from her suite on the third floor of the condo, Ayla leaned over the inner balcony landing to peer into the living room, two floors below.

  Diren was on the sofa, watching the news and sipping on a scotch.

  Soft jazz music played seductively in the background and suddenly, Ayla was aroused.

  He’s done so much for me since I met him. How can I betray him like this?

  Swallowing her guilt, she hurried down the spiral staircase to him, gently slipping in behind him to cover his eyes.

  “Guess who?” she purred and he pretended to think.

  “Delia?” he replied.

  “Not funny!” Ayla protested, yanking her arms back but he was too quick, pulling her toward him in an almost ninja style flip onto the antique sofa.

  Ayla squealed as she landed atop him, straddling him.

  “That was smooth,” she commented, impressed with his move.

  “I thought you might like that,” he replied deviously. Their eyes locked and Ayla moved forward to kiss him playfully on the lips.

  “My best friend invited me for dinner tonight. Would you like to tag along?”

  She had purposely worded it like that so that he would know she wanted the night to herself.

  He grinned.

  “Well, when you put it like that…” he laughed. “No thanks. Anyway, I have the Stanhopes coming tomorrow. Signed and sealed. Done deal.”

  Ayla’s smile faded and she sat back, folding her arms over her full breasts.

  “Really?” she asked coldly. “You’re still going to go through with it?”

  Diren sighed and shrugged, putting his hands around her waist to lift her from his body and set her gently on the couch at his side.

  That was fine with Ayla; she had dried up with the mention of the Stanhopes.

  “It’s only business, Ayla. You can’t take everything so personally.”

  He seemed about to say something else but held his tongue.

  She stared at him for a long moment.

  “All’s fair in love, war and business?” she asked sarcastically and Diren shrugged.

  “Darling, that’s what business is; a combination of love and war. So yes, anything goes.”

  Ayla slowly rose and nodded.

  “I’m glad you feel that way,” she told him sincerely, studying his face as if she might see it for the last time. “I’m going to get ready to see Sonia now.”

  “Are you angry with me?” he asked as she turned back toward the stairs.

  She shook her dark mane.

  “Of course not,” she replied quietly. “All’s fair in love, war and business.”

  As she retreated up to her suite, she wondered if he would feel the same way when he knew she had stolen all his account numbers and saved them on a hard drive.

  Swallowing her guilt, Ayla hurried to get ready to meet Sonia.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Mr. Benning, the Stanhopes have arrived.”

  Diren exhaled deeply and looked around his office.

  “Where is Alvin?” he called back to Catrina through the intercom.

  “In the boardroom, waiting for you,” she replied. “Where is Ayla?”

  The question caught him off guard and he gritted his teeth at the receptionist’s insolence.

  “Is that a concern of yours?” he asked snidely.

  Since he had made his relationship with Ayla somewhat public knowledge, the attitude among the staff had become almost hostile.
<
br />   It’s none of their damn business with whom I involve myself, he thought curtly, ready to battle with the secretary – or fire her, but Catrina seemed to gain control of her bitterness and did not reply.

  “Send them in in five minutes. I just need to make a call.”

  He didn’t but he needed a few extra moments to collect his thoughts.

  Ayla had changed something in him over the past weeks and Diren wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

  She had warmed him in spots he was sure had frozen over, ruined by the greedy and manipulative woman he had married all those years ago.

  But Ayla was different than anyone he had ever known, innocent but tough, beautiful but unaware of her allure, smart but unassuming.

  Over the past weeks, she had captivated his soul and forced him to lower his guard despite the overwhelming desire to remain hardened.

  She made it impossible for him to think of anyone else, even when the usual suspects tried sniffing around, testing his loyalty to Ayla.

  They had never had “the conversation”, neither one of them wanting to ruin whatever passions were reigning their bodies but Diren would be a fool not to admit that he was falling in love with the girl.

  Sometimes he wondered if bringing her to his privately guarded condo was simply a way of planting his flag…metaphorically, of course.

  Something told him that Ayla could never fully be claimed, no matter how lost she could seem at times.

  Tonight, when I get home, I am going to ask her to move in with me for good. No more darting back and forth between her apartment and mine, looking over her shoulder for her step-brother. No one should live like that. She deserved security for once in her life.

  Diren knew he would have to address the issue with Ryland Duggan also at some point. He had hired a private investigator to look into Ryland’s past. As soon as he received the man’s report, he would draft up a plan of action to neutralize the step-brother’s threat. No one was going to scare or threaten his woman, not while he was still drawing breath.

  A knock on the door interrupted his reverie.

  “Mr. Benning, Vanessa and George Stanhope are here.”

  He rose from his spot and tried to smile in the way he reserved for his associates but it didn’t come easily as he watched George Stanhope fumble into the room.

  Diren could see the look of defeat on Vanessa’s face as she stared after her grandfather.

  She’s trying not to cry, he realized as she swallowed.

  Vanessa turned to him as George wandered through the office, looking lost and confused. There would be no speaking to the senior owner of Windchime Publications, not when he was so far gone.

  For a startling second, Diren heard Ayla’s voice in his head.

  “Why doesn’t she just run Windchime herself? It’s her grandfather’s company, isn’t it?... But you just told her that you wouldn’t do that. That’s the only reason she signed the papers.”

  He tried to quiet her words echoing through his mind but he couldn’t focus as the Stanhope’s attorney extended his hand.

  “Is your in-house counsel going to join us?” the lawyer asked and Diren nodded absently, staring after George.

  “He can’t sign like this,” Diren heard himself say and two sets of eyes turned to him, surprised.

  “No, of course not,” the attorney, whose name Diren did not catch, agreed. “He has signed power of attorney over to Ms. Stanhope in his more lucid moments.”

  “What is he doing here then?” Diren demanded angrily and Vanessa’s face turned pale.

  “I – I just thought that it’s his company…and that…”

  “That he should witness the sale of his company to an umbrella which is going to make a mockery out of everything he’s worked for?”

  His words were met with a gaping silence.

  “Well?” he barked. “You knew he didn’t want to sell and you basically forced his hand, knowing full well what Benning Media is about. You’re just as bad as I am, Vanessa.”

  “Wait a second!” the attorney snapped. “Ms. Stanhope has done her due diligence in this matter – “

  “I don’t care what she has agreed to,” Diren spit. “She knows as well as I do that once this deal goes through, she is going to have nothing more than a place mat at the board table. She never cared about what her grandfather wanted. And she’s proving it by bringing a mentally unsound man to witness his own undoing. You disgust me. Get out of my office!” The irony of his disgust was not lost on him. Talk about the pot and the kettle…

  “We have a deal!” Vanessa cried, her face red with indignation. “You can’t back out now!”

  “I just did. You have nothing more than a formal handshake agreement. The papers have not been signed. Go home and try to redeem yourself by running Windchime the way George would have wanted it. Try to save your own soul.”

  Their mouths gaping, the pair were shocked into silence, but Diren could not bear to look at either one of them.

  Their attempt to profit no matter who suffered, reminded him too much of himself in that moment.

  “Get out.” he ordered, and the pair spun to oblige, taking the ailing elder with them.

  He retreated to his chair, sinking heavily into it as he stared at his hands.

  Where the hell did that come from? He wondered but he knew it was a ridiculous question.

  Ayla had been in his head for days, watching him with her guileless but pained blue eyes. She had become his moral compass somehow, leading back into a feeling world, one which he had buried so deeply within himself, he had forgotten it existed.

  “What happened?” Catrina asked, rushing into the room. She seemed agitated as she flapped her arms about. “Vanessa Stanhope was raging about a lawsuit.”

  Diren snorted and looked up at her.

  “She has no grounds to sue and even if she did, I hit her where she hurt. She wouldn’t dare. Get Alvin in here.”

  Catrina studied him suspiciously but she did not argue as she turned to get the lawyer.

  How am I going to explain this to the board? He thought wryly but he knew in the grand scheme of things, Windchime Publications was not going to make or break his company in any direction.

  Alvin appeared in the doorway, his brow furrowed in confusion.

  “What the hell happened with the Stanhopes?” he demanded but before Diren could explain anything, his cell began to ring. Diren glanced at the caller ID.

  “Diren Benning.”

  “Mr. Benning, this is Ollie Stappler.”

  He felt his back tense instantly and he held up a finger to have Alvin wait.

  “Why are you calling me, Ollie?” he asked, his voice loaded with concern. He could count on one hand the number of times he had heard from his IT security specialist in five years. This could not be good.

  As if to confirm his fears. Ollie spoke again.

  “Sir, we may have a problem.”

  “Where?” he demanded, his eyes scanning the office as if the perpetrator of the breach was before him.

  “At your home office, sir.”

  “When? Right now? Someone has broken in?”

  Ollie inhaled resignedly.

  “No, Mr. Benning. This happened a few days ago. The download happened under your password which is why it wasn’t immediately caught, but the data stick used was not secure.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re talking about, Ollie. What happened?”

  Diren was attempting to make sense of what the tech was saying but it didn’t compute.

  “Mr. Benning, someone has logged into your home server and downloaded personal information onto a data stick.”

  “What kind of information?” he demanded, his blood running cold at the implication.

  Ollie cleared his throat nervously.

  “Personal account information, Mr. Benning. From…offshore accounts…”

  Dizziness swept through Diren’s body and he shook his head.

  “No,” he said f
latly. “You’re wrong.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not wrong, sir. I have emailed you video of your webcam at the time it occurred. Do you recognize this individual?”

  With trembling hands, Diren turned to his desktop computer and opened his personal email.

  He closed his eyes as the video started, willing the image to evaporate before his eyes.

  “No,” he muttered. “It can’t be.”

  “Do you know her, sir?” Ollie asked urgently. “Perhaps we can – “

  “No,” Diren said flatly. “I don’t know her.”

  He quickly closed the screen and sat back, his mind whirling.

  I let her into my house, into my life, he thought, bile threatening to erupt from his belly. And she has been setting me up the entire time.

  “Mr. Benning if you know who she is, we can have her taken care of,” Ollie spoke in his ear.

  “No. And say nothing of this to the rest of the team.”

  He ended the call before another word was spoken, his grey eyes glazing over.

  “What is it?” Alvin asked, leaning forward and Diren jumped. He had almost forgotten the attorney was still in his office.

  “Nothing,” he muttered. “Nothing.”

  “Diren…”

  “You need to go now, Alvin. I’ll call you later.”

  Slowly, Diren rose, leaving the lawyer in his chair, staring after him.

  “Diren, are you – “

  “Not now, Alvin. I have something to take care of,” he interjected, walking from his inner space as if in a trance.

  The moment for uncontrolled rage had already passed.

  In its place was an eerie, deadly calm.

  Not now, Alvin. I have to take care of another deceptive, treacherous bitch whom I allowed into my life.

  Chapter Thirteen

  She was pacing the living room as she had been for hours, waiting for Diren to come home.

  I should call him and tell him to get over here before it’s too late, she thought, panic causing her to lose her breath.

  Stay calm. Nothing is going to happen, not yet. It’s too soon.

  Earlier, she had dropped off the hard drive to Ryland in Tallman.

  “Where are you going in such a rush?” he asked leeringly. “Aren’t you gonna stay and visit your mama a little while?”