Systematic Siege #4 (Siege Serial)

by N. Isabelle Blanco

  Systematic Siege #4

  SIEGE SERIAL

  Copyright © N. Isabelle Blanco

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This work is copyrighted. All rights are reserved. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior written permission of the author.

  Cover image licensed by 123rf.com/ © George Mayer

  Cover design by Coquette Graphics

  Publication Date:

  Genre: FICTION/Romance/Erotica

  Copyright © 2017 N. Isabelle Blanco

  All rights reserved

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  50

  There’s a small window above my head. The sun started shining through a while ago. Has to have been three hours at least.

  I’ve been sitting on this cot the whole time.

  The light is naturally dim back here. It isn’t like some of those holding areas with the bright lights and institution-like set up. I can see dust particles flying inside the bright ray of sunlight pouring in.

  That’s all I’ve had to focus on. That and the growing black hole in my fucking gut.

  Overnight. That’s how long they’ve kept me in this fucking cell.

  Me—A Drevlow.

  But that’s exactly why I’ve been here this long. Because my father, Mr. Drevlow, demanded that I stay here and “learn my lesson”.

  He knows I took the blame.

  Fuck. I took the blame.

  I lean forward, elbows braced on my knees, and run my hand over my buzz-cut hair. Everything’s shaking. My leg is bouncing.

  All I can imagine is Lexi out there, suffering. Thinking God knows what.

  In my defense, at the time I believed I would be out of here in two hours, tops. Not that I’d be here until the next day.

  The logic was simple: I was going to take the blame and confirm they helped me plan it. All of us would pay for whatever pain my girl is going through.

  And I was going to have enough time to get to her, explain my plan.

  As long as the cops believe I was in on the whole recording plan, I can make it seem more legitimate when we’re all brought before the school board.

  There’s no doubt we will be. This entire ordeal goes against the very stringent rules set forth by the board.

  I don’t give a fuck that this will get me thrown out of school—actually, I’m banking on it.

  I’m taking all those motherfuckers with me when I go.

  By now, my father knows I said I was in on this. He should’ve been proud. Ecstatic that I hurt Berkman’s daughter.

  The fact that he left me here overnight and sent me that little message via my lawyer can only mean one thing.

  My father knows I’m lying.

  Either Kaylee got to him and told him the truth . . .

  Or I couldn’t convince him that I’d changed my mind about wanting Lexi. Couldn’t undo my mistake of telling him I wanted to be with her.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I haven’t slept. Can’t. Has nothing to do with being in this cell.

  Everything feels wrong. I don’t know how to explain it. Like there’s some telepathic connection between me and Lexi.

  It’s almost like I can feel everything she’s feeling. Can feel how the damage sinks in deeper with every moment that she’s out there without me.

  I have to get to her. Have to explain . . .

  “Daddy said you can finally go, tough shot.”

  The sound of keys, more than that asshole’s taunts, bring me back to reality. I’m on my feet before he’s even fully done opening the door.

  My lawyer is standing just outside the holding area. He steps toward me as I barrel out, his mouth open to speak.

  “Not now.” I storm past him.

  He’s calling my name. Chasing after me. Ignoring him, I head straight to the door—

  My father steps inside, his back straight. Bearing impeccable in his ridiculously expensive suit.

  He’s standing right in front of the door, blocking my way. I hope for his sake he gets the hint and moves.

  Of course, he doesn’t.

  He reaches out to grab my arms as I approach. The look on his face is one I know well.

  He’s ready to lay down his law with me.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” He grabs my arms.

  I tell him once, calmly, “Let me go.”

  “I asked you a question, boy.”

  “I said, let me go!” I yell, shoving him out of my way with all my strength. Several voices yell out behind me as I barge out the door.

  There’s no stopping to take in the fact that I finally got to push my father. Give him some of the aggression I’ve been choking on for so long.

  No stopping to be ashamed at my thoughts either.

  Shit. Shit. I don’t have my car here with me. Obviously, my father isn’t going to let me take his car to get back to Lexi.

  Fuck it. I’ll run.

  51

  17 hours before Barnard Wellington’s disappearance . . .

  “What else did he do?”

  Hell. I think I’m still shaking my head. Forcing myself to stop, I somehow find the strength to look him right in the eye.

  Pretending I’m not lying.

  That I’m not panicking.

  What about me gave it away? What? Damn it.

  “You can’t force me to work up here with you, Andrew.”

  Just minutes ago, he was treading carefully with me. Trying not to scare me.

  My words drag something different out of him. Gone is the soothing, cautious Andrew. A hardness falls over him, the kind of unrelenting energy that signals his indomitable will.

  “Lexi. You’re under contract. I’m your boss. And I need you up here.”

  My lips fall open at his audacity. At the calm way he stated that. “You’re really going there?”

  “You and I have an enemy in common, Ms. Berkman. I need you to become my right hand in order for us to succeed.”

  “I hate you,” I say, blinking in disbelief. “How could you want me to be your right hand?”

  “And I—” He inhales deeply instead of finishing what he was going to say.

  “You what?”

  Shaking his head, Andrew leans back on his desk and crosses his arms; the exact same pose he’d been in when I first approached the glass wall. “I’m your boss and I’m telling you I need you here.”

  “I need to be able to coordinate the team. Paul. Megan—”

  “She’s been promoted to your position. You’ll be coordinating the team from up here.”

  My face burns hot with frustration. With the futility suddenly creeping in on me. I remember this feeling of having my choices taken away from me by a prick with too much power.

  “I’m the best fucking coder in this entire building, Drew.” Once again, that freaking nickname leaves my mouth before I realize it.

  Andrew’s expression softens. “I know, Lexi. And I’m not too shabby myself.”

  I know. I remember. He was a genius back then; I can only imagine how dangerous that mind is now.

  Still. “You aren’t better than me.”

  He nods. “No I’m not. But together, we’d be beyond dangerous and you know it.”

  Deep d
own, I know he’s right. The logic is irrefutable. Bringing down Menahan isn’t just about releasing a headset beyond superior to his. Undermining his company by taking top spot.

  It’s about finding ways into his systems. Getting the information we need to truly ruin him and his entire family name.

  The devil fuck me, but I’ll be helping the Drevlow name grow with that outcome.

  But as long as my mother gets the help she needs out of this, what else can I do?

  “You’re starting to see my logic, aren’t you?”

  Fucking asshole.

  Fisting my hands, I look around the office. My new workplace. “I’ll only agree to work up here on one condition.”

  “Shoot.”

  Huffing out a sarcastic laugh, I turn back to him. “You confessed to the cops.” I saw the video. His father made it his mission to come show me.

  And then he offered me that bargain, and I was stupid enough to take it.

  Stupid enough to send myself down such a horrid path.

  “I did.” Andrew stares into my eyes.

  Swallowing, I blink back tears. “So you admit you betrayed me.” What am I expecting, a different answer? I saw the video for myself!

  His head tilts back and his expression turns defiant. “I’ll tell you the exact details of what happened back then—”

  “So it was more than that?” Was that a hint of desperation I heard in my tone?

  “—if you tell me what happened between you and Stephen. All of it.”

  Why does he keep asking me?

  Obviously, I know. I did something that gave it away. Andrew suspects Stephen abused me much more than I’m letting on.

  I’ll never let him know. I can’t. All these years, it was about getting away. Every step calculated. Planned. I needed to escape Stephen’s hold and that was all I could focus on.

  I’ve just rediscovered sexual pleasure at the hands of the man before me.

  Dealing with what happened to me, though? No. I haven’t even begun processing that fully.

  How the hell am I even supposed to?

  And Andrew expects me to share it? Out of his mind. It feels too private. Too . . . too . . . “You know what? Forget this.” I turn to leave.

  “Please.”

  My heart crumbles painfully. I pause mid-step, pressing a hand to my chest. Why is it hurting so much?

  “Lexi, please.”

  I spin to face Drew again, dropping my hand.

  He’s still in the same position I left him, but his eyes . . .

  God help me, I’m in so much pain right now.

  “Being up here is going to be hard,” I confess, my tone weaker than it should be.

  His eyes somehow soften even more. “I know.”

  “Then why are you doing this?”

  “Because I honestly have no choice.”

  52

  What does he mean by that?

  I search his eyes, his beautiful eyes—

  Holy crap. I didn’t just think that.

  But I did.

  “Be logical about this,” he urges in that flat tone, as if he’s the one being logical.

  Yes. Strategically it’s the best move. When it comes to destroying Stephen that is.

  Out of nowhere, the lock I keep tight on my memories fails, and I’m reminded of exactly why Stephen needs to be ruined.

  “Stephen! Please! What are you doing?”

  “It’s mine, Lexi. It’s always been mine. Just like that pussy.”

  Pain tears my insides, radiating out from my ass, like a knife stabbing deep.

  It hurts. Oh God, save me. It hurts.

  “Lexi? Lexi!”

  I blink.

  Then I jump back, breathing hard.

  Andrew had been right in front of me. All up in my face. He fists his hands, veins bulging, but makes no move to follow me.

  He knows I can’t handle that right now.

  Panting, I tear my stare away from him. Holy hell, why the fuck? But I know why. It isn’t the first time one of the memories come at me without warning.

  I’ve gotten good at holding them back. I can go weeks now without getting lost in the recollections. Regardless of what my therapist believes, I know that I will come to completely suppress those memories with time.

  I will forget.

  I have to.

  “Lexi.”

  That pained groan centers me. If I weren’t so freaked out about almost losing myself to that panic, it would register that he’s my lifeline right now.

  Somehow, his obvious pain over seeing my own gives me the strength to withhold the anxiety.

  But I don’t analyze that. “You’re right.” I resist the urge to run my shaking hand across my mouth. “To destroy him, we need to be a team. Our planning has to be perfect.”

  Because this is my reality and I can’t allow any weakness to affect that.

  Andrew Drevlow is my enemy, but he never, ever did to me any of the things Stephen has done.

  “Lexi . . .”

  “But I will not talk about anything other than our plans to bring him down and work with you.” My voice shakes with the warning.

  His jaw muscle pumps; he always had a bad habit of grinding his teeth when stressed. “Fine. Your rules.”

  I’m shocked by his easy acquiescence. Like hell it’s my rules. I know him. He was never the type of guy to let anyone take the reins.

  The furious light in his eyes tells me he isn’t too keen on letting me take them now.

  “Why?” I ask him, raising my chin. Why are you giving in so easy? Why are you actually respecting my desires right now?

  He lowers his chin and stares me deep in the eye. “You. Know. Why.”

  I shake my head. I don’t.

  He exhales, nostrils flaring softly, and his fists finally unclench. “The first thing I need you to do is hire yourself an assistant.”

  My eyebrows raise at that.

  “You’re too important to have bogged down with mundane things like answering my calls and keeping track of my calendar.”

  “You should have thought about that before strong-arming me into the role.”

  Andrew stops for a second, his expression unreadable.

  When his lips twitch and his expression melts with affection, I swear I feel the ground beneath my heels shift. “God. I missed your stubborn comebacks.”

  No.

  No.

  My body steps away from him, a single step, but my head’s also shaking and I see the moment he catches on to the fear in my eyes.

  Please. Please don’t make me feel this again. Not with you.

  I swear I can hear his voice in my head. You never stopped, Lexi.

  I can’t do this. Can’t be near this man. I’m not strong enough. What the hell was I thinking?

  The intercom on Andrew’s desk beeps right before a woman’s voice comes through. “Mr. Drevlow. I have your 9:00am here to see you.”

  I would love to say the spell is broken.

  For me, it’s not.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  Andrew half turns to press the answering button on his phone. “Let him up.”

  I’m already backing away, seeing my small way out.

  “Wait.”

  I pause right by the glass wall.

  “Delegate whatever you have to. I’m giving you full control as my right hand.”

  Me? Me? The world is upside down. Twisted. Me as the right hand to the head of the Drevlow empire?

  Immeasurable power.

  Tainted privilege.

  This empire crushed the likes of my father and now I’m going to help run it? Not just help it grow, but actually steer a portion of it? Command it?

  Use it against Stephen. I feel poisoned at the thought of what I must do, but this has been my life for almost a decade, I remind myself.

  A puppet of powerful men. A puppet of cruel fate. I learned to deal. To survive. To use everything to my advantage.

  No need to st
op now.

  “Fine,” I tell him, heading straight for my desk.

  53

  16 hours before Barnard Wellington’s disappearance . . .

  By the time Andrew’s 9:00am gets off the elevator a minute or so later, I’m calmer.

  I think.

  I’ve busied myself firing up both desktops on my desk. Arranging my frames and knickknacks can be done later. I’m all about business right now. Setting up the most important aspects so Andrew and I can move forward with our plan.

  The man he’s meeting walks in, flashing me a bright white smile once he sees me. He’s fairly handsome with his tanned skin, and everything about him screams money.

  Andrew’s already at the glass wall, waiting for him. “Asad. Come in.” His tone is terse and I get the feeling that he doesn’t like how Asad just smiled at me.

  Asad smiles at Andrew and greets him. But when he walks by my desk, his eyes cut in my direction again and I freeze.

  His eyes. That look in his eyes . . .

  I’ve seen it before.

  Stephen.

  A cold shiver rips down my spine.

  “Considering you need me to agree to this contract, let’s start things off on the right foot. Shall we?” Andrew’s voice is deadly soft.

  Deadly serious.

  I sneak a glance at him and my heart drops at the dark light in his eyes.

  There it is again. That madness.

  For some reason, it scares me more than what I saw in Asad’s eyes. Then the memory of Stephen.

  It’s the first time the question crosses my mind, but I can’t help but mentally ask him, What have you become?

  I know the answer to that. I’ve dealt with enough evil to recognize it when I see it.

  “Of course. What do you need?” Asad stops before Andrew and offers his hand to shake.

  Andrew doesn’t even stare at it. “You don’t look at her. You don’t think about her. And for your sake, you don’t dare to even dream about her.”

  I can’t help my gasp at that.

  Asad looks between both of us, his eyebrows rising with amusement. “I thought she was just another employee—”