Filthy Rich

by Raine Miller

  My goal was to give her more reasons to be joyful than opportunities for remembering the sadness of the past. I couldn’t delete it or take it away. The fucker who nearly killed her was gone. But I could ensure happiness for her future.

  When we filtered out of the chapel after the ceremony, Brooke and I were the last ones out because we’d been the first ones in after the bride and groom. She was quiet beside me as we waited for the people ahead of us to move aside so she could go to her grandmother and Herman. “It was perfect, Brooke. You did a wonderful job of planning and making everything come together.”

  “Thank you. I am so happy right now.” She squeezed my hand and leaned into my chest.

  Supporting her body against mine, I propped one shoulder in the doorway while we continued to wait. I kissed the top of her head and breathed in the flowery scent of her hair. “I know you are. I can see it as clear as day, and happiness is a very good look on you, baby.”

  “You’re a big part of it, Caleb.” She said it softly as we paused in the entryway of Stone Church.

  I heard every word.

  Yeah, I’m marrying this girl.

  “SO, Brooke tells me Herman is taking you on a cruise around Europe. Are you looking forward to being on a boat for all of that time?”

  Brooke’s grandmother gave me a leveled look. “I am thrilled to be free again after so many weeks of therapy, quite honestly. I feel like I’ve been let out of prison, albeit my guards were very helpful during my incarceration,” she joked with me as we took a moment to chat together during the reception. “Herman feels the confinement of the ship will keep me from overdoing it with the new knees. We can take a leisurely pace with touring at ports, or stay on the ship if it becomes overtaxing for me. I’m not too worried because I feel strong, and I’ll be busy looking after Herman.” She winked mischievously.

  “Mrs. Caster—ah—I mean, Mrs. Blackstone, you reminded me so much of Brooke just now. I could hear her saying the same witty comebacks.”

  She smiled warmly. “Now, Caleb, I think calling me Mrs. Blackstone is a bit too formal, don’t you?”

  It was awkward, because I really didn’t know what to call her. She was still just as approachable as I remembered her to be, but she’d married into my family now, and I sure as hell couldn’t call her Mrs. Casterley anymore. “Well, probably yes,” I answered honestly.

  “I think Aunt Ellen would be appropriate if you feel comfortable with that. Technically, I am your aunt now that I’ve married your uncle.”

  “I will surely make the mistake of calling you Mrs. Casterley regularly. In fact, I know I will, but I’ll be honored to call you Aunt Ellen as often as my poor brain can remember to say it.”

  She laughed and agreed to still answer to Mrs. Casterley for me. “Caleb, I’m so glad we are getting this chance to talk, because there is something I’ve been wanting to discuss with you. I feel as if I don’t have a choice in the matter, because I am the only advocate she has.”

  “Brooke?”

  “Yes, I mean Brooke.”

  “How can I put you at ease, Mrs. Caster—shit, I mean—sorry for the language . . . er . . . Aunt Ellen . . .” Not the best start, but I was curious about what she wanted to discuss.

  She patted my hand in reassurance. “Don’t worry, Caleb, I come in peace, truly I do. I am just a concerned grandmother looking out for my precious Brooke. You see, I just want to make sure you understand how her past has shaped her.”

  “She’s told me about her husband and about losing her baby. I know her life with Marcus was terrorizing for her. Brooke has shared everything with me.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I know she has shared with you. She told me. And, Caleb, I feel, or rather—I can see you care for Brooke. I can see she cares for you. That part is for the two of you to figure out, although I don’t imagine you’ll have much of a problem with it.” She winked at me again.

  “Aunt Ellen, you are going to make a grown man blush.”

  “Well, good then. It only further supports my observations about you two, but this is not what I want you to take away from our conversation, Caleb.” She patted the back of my hand two times with firm taps. “It is about Brooke and how her whole life has been impacted by a lack of choice.”

  “How do you mean?” I asked.

  “Well, her illegitimate birth was out of her control—just something she had to accept. Limited time and access to her father, being his little secret was her reality, and something over which she had no control. The death of her parents was a horrifying shock, of course. Being ripped away from her home to come to live in a completely different country was suddenly mandatory. Having to live with me became her only option, regardless if we did end up making a wonderful life together. Just at the moment when her life seemed to finally be on track with the path she was choosing for herself, Marcus came along and ruined everything she’d worked toward. Becoming pregnant, marrying Marcus—neither are things she’d ever have chosen for herself at such a young age. He stalked and trapped her deliberately. Add in the terror she endured the whole time she was imprisoned in her marriage, and you can see how most of her life has been forced down her throat. The ability to choose has been taken from Brooke time and time again, and nearly ended her life in the process.”

  “I think I understand where you’re going with this.”

  “Do you, Caleb, because you cannot assume she is healed from all of that pain. In fact, she isn’t healed yet. I’m telling you, that in order for things to work out with you and Brooke in the long term, it will require you to let her take some control over her life. If you try to force her into a corner, she will run from you as far and as fast as she can, and she won’t look back, either. This is my darling granddaughter I am speaking of. I know her. I know what she needs in order to keep the demons at bay.”

  “I do understand, and honestly, I’ve sensed the same need in her. I can be patient with her, and I plan to, Mrs. Casterley—goddamn it—I mean, Aunt Ellen!” Her lecture frustrated me because I heard her, I really did. “I hear you. Sorry for the language, again, too.”

  She laughed at my obvious distress, but it wasn’t in a mean way. “You always were very respectful when addressing your elders, Caleb. I think your father raised some fine sons and daughters.”

  “Thank you for bringing him up. I know he would have been very happy for the two of you. He would have been thrilled to celebrate with everyone today.” I noticed she only referred to my father and not my mother. I wondered how their relationship had gone down over the years. It couldn’t have been sparkling because my mother didn’t pal around with the staff—ever. Madelaine Blackstone liked to keep the lines of status well partitioned at all times. Which is what made this wedding celebration all the more uncomfortable for her, by forcing her to blur those lines while bearing a fake smile upon her face.

  “I feel the same way about your father,” she said with a nod, “but now, Caleb, I want to know how you really feel about my Brooke. Do you love her or is she just a distraction for you after the loss of your beloved father?”

  Whoa. Talk about going straight for the jugular and digging in with a twist of the blade. Mrs. Casterley—fuck—Aunt Ellen . . . didn’t beat around the bush; she jabbed a fuckin’ spear into it instead. My hesitation to answer spurred her to say more.

  “I do apologize for my direct approach, but you must understand I am her only family, Caleb, so think of the question I’ve just asked you as coming from a very concerned parent.” She tilted her head with emphasis. “It is reasonable for me to ask, considering where Brooke has been and what she has endured. She cannot be hurt again.” Ellen delivered her final statement with steeled intent to hurt me if she didn’t like my answer.

  I liked the fact she was bulldogging me, actually. She was entitled to be protective of her only granddaughter who she had raised for the most part. She’d taken on the role of a parent to Brooke. I put myself in her place and could guarantee I wouldn’t be so acc
ommodating to the guy “sleeping” with my daughter. I’d want his balls on a platter if he harmed a single hair on her head—if he ever got close enough to her in the first place, would be debatable.

  “I love her. She’s not a distraction.” The truth was very easy for me.

  “I thought so, but I just wanted to hear it from you, Caleb.” She now gave me a true smile.

  “I am going to marry her,” I blurted. She raised an eyebrow at me. “I know she’s not ready yet, and I will wait until she is totally ready,” I assured her. “And then I’ll come to you and ask properly.”

  Ellen’s expression softened again, and then we went right back to generic conversation topics as if the one we’d just finished had never even happened. Strong, gentle, determined, kind. Four words that definitely suited both Casterley women. Well, soon to be two Blackstone women when I get my wish.

  “What were you and Nan talking about? It looked fairly intense from across the room,” Brooke asked a few minutes later when she made her way back to me after being dragged away by my sisters earlier.

  I picked up her hand and planted my lips to the back of it. “We were talking about how precious you are.”

  “Oh, Caleb—”

  Her eyes grew watery as she stared up at me. I got the feeling she had to struggle a bit to accept my answer, but now I understood how her emotions worked, and the tears pretty much confirmed she did, indeed, believe me.

  “It’s all good, baby. It’s all good between your grandmother and me. She just needed some reassurance that I was more than happy to give to her. She also insisted I call her Aunt Ellen from now on.”

  She took in a deep breath and gave me one of her half-sad smiles—the kind I recognized already as her signature Brooke-is-okay-now smile.

  “I have something to tell you later on tonight when we are alone together,” she said, still smiling.

  “Oh? Is it something I will like to hear?” I really fuckin’ pray it’s something I want to hear.

  My heart sped up. I didn’t want to hope, but my mind went right to the words I most wanted to hear from her more than anything.

  Just three words.

  Three words that would confirm what I was feeling went both ways. That it wasn’t just my dick talking because the sex was so fucking hot. Sex with Brooke was incredibly hot, but I knew I couldn’t allow sex to be the main reason behind my ever-growing feelings for her. There had to be some other justification for why I’d felt so strongly about her right from the beginning.

  She brought her hand to my cheek and caressed with her thumb, soothing me in an instant. “I think you will like hearing it, Caleb.”

  Brooke

  My son shares next to nothing with me about his life, so imagine my surprise when Winter informed me that he’s having the penthouse remodeled from top to bottom.” This was Caleb’s mother’s attempt to engage me in conversation.

  It was also her making sure I was fully aware of my place in her world—that of being a paid employee and nothing more. I wasn’t offended really, because Caleb had already warned me that she would most likely be prickly with me. She was close to his previous girlfriend’s family, apparently, and their breakup had not been well received. Caleb also told me that his relationship with his mother was not a warm one, nor had it ever been. I felt sad for him but didn’t really know what to say. It was her problem if she didn’t like me being with her son. He was an adult who could choose for himself.

  I hadn’t imagined she would be thrilled upon meeting me anyway—my reason for being blunt with Caleb in the beginning about us—because I would be a hard sell for many in their high-society, blue-blooded world.

  I had no illusions about whose name topped that list of many—Madelaine Blackstone—a classically beautiful woman who dressed impeccably and had perfect hair, makeup, jewelry—everything. She was a very well put together society doyenne who looked too young to have a son Caleb’s age. I could see a resemblance between her daughters and her, but not Caleb. He must have gotten all of his looks from his father, because he looked nothing like his mother. Nan had remarked how Caleb looked so much like his father at the same age he could be his clone.

  I’d been pleasantly surprised by the rest of his family, though. Lucas and Winter more so, because we’d spent some time together in the last weeks and had bonded already. Today I’d met Willow and her fiancé, Roger, for the first time, and they’d been nothing but kind and friendly to me. Willow even remembered to bring a signed set of her books for me. I had Caleb to thank for that surprise probably, but I suppose Willow wouldn’t have gifted me the books if she hadn’t felt like doing it.

  Herman’s children all expressed support of their father’s marriage to Nan. Each one had told me personally how glad they were to see their dad finally finding happiness with his soul mate. Herman’s relationship with their mother had been acrimonious and remained that way even in the years after their divorce, so it was a good thing for the kids to be able to see their dad happy and in love after such a long time.

  All in all, I felt pleasantly relieved that my introduction to the large clan of Blackstones was now behind me—even the matriarch who didn’t approve of me being with her son.

  “I’d have to agree with you, Mrs. Blackstone. One of the first things I asked Caleb was if his penthouse really needed a remodel because I think it is stunning just as it is now.” I smiled at Caleb before I answered her. He winked at me, and I took it as a sign we’d discuss his mum later tonight when we were alone. Right now I was going to kill her with kindness.

  She nodded at me in a way that felt patronizing and also one hundred percent calculated before she spoke. “It is a shame really, because Janice thought so, too.” Waiting for me to take the bait, she smiled sweetly.

  But she would have to wait a very long time, because I’d never ask her the question. I knew very well who Janice was. Caleb’s ex—none other than Janice Thorndike—the former face of Vogue, and now working in the upper echelons of the fashion world. I’d seen pictures of them out together on Google, and he’d told me she was the reason behind the black eye he was sporting when I’d first met him. He’d also said getting involved with her had been a terrible mistake because of their two families’ close friendship over the years. Anything else about Janice I didn’t know would have to remain that way, because I really didn’t care to know. Most people had a past. Caleb was a bit older than me. I knew he’d been with many women before me, and nothing would change that fact, so the jealousy factor did not motivate me much. I’d learned being jealous of something that cannot be changed was a pointless waste of my time. Caleb didn’t want to be with Janice anymore, and his mother’s disappointment over their breakup wouldn’t make the slightest influence on his feelings there.

  Caleb wanted to be with me—showing me constantly how he felt was so much more powerful than just saying the words.

  “Mom, please.” Caleb scowled at her and shook his head in annoyance. “I’ve decided that I want to make some changes to my home . . . because I feel the time has come for some changes.” He turned to look at me with those gorgeous blue-and-gold eyes of his, and said, “And Brooke is just the person to help me with it.”

  “IT was perfection, condesa. La abuela looked stunning—a total GILF if not for the part about me being gay,” Eduardo told me as I bid him farewell at the ferry.

  “I think I should call her up and tell her you said that.” He dropped the flippant expression and actually looked scared for once. “Ha . . . gotcha!” I rarely got the upper hand with Eduardo and his outrageous comments, so I relished the enjoyment of making him squirm in fear.

  “Ay, Dios mío, you scared me, condesa. Abuela would have my cojones.”

  “Indeed she would, but she might forgive you for helping make her wedding so lovely.”

  “It was my very great pleasure to help you both.”

  Eduardo hugged me good-bye and did the two kisses to each cheek ritual he’d perfected, before boarding the bo
at. I blew him a kiss, and then turned back to Woody where Caleb was waiting inside for me.

  I knew a few people were staying the night at Lucas’s beach house, but most of the guests had left the island after seeing the bride and groom away via helicopter. Herman and Nan were spending their wedding night in New York before heading off on their European cruise. The new Mr. and Mrs. Blackstone had looked radiant as they left the island this afternoon. It was strange, sending my grandmother away on her honeymoon, but it also felt so very right at the same time.

  Caleb was taking a call when I returned, so I didn’t interrupt him as I drove us to the cottage. He’d asked me earlier if I wanted to go back to Boston for the rest of the weekend, but I’d told him I wanted to stay here. We’d come to an unspoken agreement about our sleeping arrangements during the last month. Most weekdays I stayed in Boston with him, because the penthouse redesign was now my full-time job. That left the weekends for the island and the cottage. I’d also started working from home on Fridays up until today, because I’d been planning the wedding. There was still plenty I could do via the Internet for redesigning the penthouse, so I planned to continue. I didn’t know what Caleb would think of my plan, and since he was technically my boss on the project, I really hoped he wouldn’t object. I knew he liked having me at his penthouse. I liked being there with him. But I needed to live on the island. I just needed it and didn’t really have the words to explain why. Maybe it was some kind of emotional healing for me to live in the same house where my mother grew up. I don’t know what it was that bonded me to Blackstone Island so deeply, but the need was there, and Caleb would have to understand and accept it—if he wanted to be with me. I knew what I felt for Caleb, and I didn’t want to be difficult. I also knew I didn’t want more pressure to acquiesce to a man’s control.

  Meeting his mother just this afternoon pretty much cemented the fact that I didn’t really fit in to the Blackstone billionaire world—even more so now than I’d felt it before. I was an island girl, and I was going to stay an island girl.