by Xenia Melzer
“Yes. I looked her up on the web. There is a law firm called Connor and Partners in Miami… I just don’t know what she might want from me.”
“Can you stall her till tomorrow?”
“She said it was urgent. I don’t know if she’s just a good actor, but I believed her. Plus, I think she’s already in the area. She was talking while in the car.”
Martin stayed silent for a moment. “We have several options here, Dean. You can just tell her to come back tomorrow, when Richard is back. That’s probably the wisest thing to do. What makes me a little nervous, though, is that she has your cell number. Ask her how she got it, because by any rights, she shouldn’t have it. Unless you were careless with it?”
“Never!” Dean did nothing to keep the hurt out of his tone.
His cell number was indeed a well-kept secret. After a crazy fan had hacked his previous phone and left disturbing pictures and messages on it, Richard had seen to it that it couldn’t happen again. His new number was known to only a few people, and he never used it to make random calls. Come to think of it, the fact that there had been no caller ID should have stopped him from taking the call. Dean groaned. When would he ever learn?
“It’s too late for that, boy.”
Master Martin appeared to have read his thoughts, but that was a Dom for you. “Now we have to deal with the potential fallout. When she calls you back, ask where she got that number. If she has no satisfying explanation, tell her to fuck the hell off. If she has one, tell her you are inconvenienced today and make an appointment for tomorrow, when Richard is back. Can you do that?”
“Yes, Sir. I can do that.” When he had strict orders to follow, Dean could do anything.
“Good boy. If there’s anything else, call me back immediately. I can’t leave here right away, but when you need me, let me know it.”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
Martin disconnected the call and only seconds later, the phone rang again. Dean took a deep breath and answered.
“Connelly.”
“Mr. Connelly. Elisa Connor, again. Have you checked your schedule?”
“I have. But before we talk about that, I have a question. How did you get this number?”
There was a long pause during which Elisa Connor obviously tried to phrase her answer. When she finally spoke again, her words knocked Dean right on his ass.
“Your sister, Tricia Connelly, gave it to me.”
Chapter 6
“SHE ALSO gave me your address. Can I come over? I’m in the area and could be there in about fifteen minutes. Mr. Connelly?”
Dean managed to focus enough to answer Elisa. “Yes. Yes, you can come over.”
He didn’t register when Elisa ended the call or how the cell slipped from his lifeless fingers. Something was awfully wrong, he just knew it.
Two years ago, his beloved big sister had moved to Germany. The international law firm she worked for had opened a new headquarters in Munich, and she was in charge. The hours were beyond crazy. In many respects, Tricia was like Richard, always giving everything.
So all Dean had heard from his sister in the last two years were a few letters, sometimes with pictures. The last one had been four months ago, when she told him she would come back to the States soon. Since then, nothing. And now a lawyer contacted him, claiming she had gotten his number from Tricia? That was bad. Really bad.
Dean rose unsteadily to his feet. The butt plug nudged against his gland, but right now he found it irritating, not comforting. Knowing it would earn him an unpleasant punishment, but unable to care at the moment, he went to the bathroom to get it out. Since he was at it, he also unfastened the cock cage.
Memories of him and Tricia flooded his mind, all the more vivid because he didn’t know what was going on.
Dean had only been seventeen when his parents found out he was gay. Christopher and Faith Connelly both came from old, conservative money and had raised their two children accordingly. There was not a lot of love lost between them. Not that his parents were particularly caring toward each other either. All that counted was how others, especially their peers, perceived them. It was important to drive the right cars, to make the right investments, go to the right country club, study at the right university.
Both Dean and Tricia had learned early in their lives to never mess with their parents’ expectations. Tricia, who was five years older than Dean, had taught him all the necessary tricks to keep his mother from breathing down his neck.
When he realized he was gay, Dean had turned to Tricia, because she was the only person in the world he trusted.
She hadn’t let him down. She had supported him, helped him to keep it a secret from their parents. It was Dean’s bad luck that one of his father’s business partners had decided to hit on him. When Dean turned him down, the man accused him of having made the first move. Dean had been too shocked by the accusation, as well as his father’s vile reaction, to say anything in his defense.
Christopher Connelly had thrown him out that same day, telling him to never show his face again. Even though their relationship had been strained at the best of times, it still hurt to see the disgust and hatred in his father’s eyes.
Again, Tricia had saved him. She let him crash at her student apartment until he found his own place. With a part-time job as a waiter and the extra cash Tricia sent his way every month, he finished high school and started studying at a small university.
It was then that he wrote his first thriller. Much to his surprise, the book was picked up by NestEgg Publishing and became an instant bestseller. Something about the main character, a female called Laura Ashbourne, seemed to enthrall readers. Apart from the satisfaction, it also brought him financial independence.
Dean tried to pay his sister back, but Tricia refused him outright. Instead, she demanded a hand-signed copy of each new book he wrote.
At twenty-five he’d met Richard, who swept him off his feet and introduced him to the world of BDSM. From that day on, Dean’s life had been bliss.
A bliss that lawyer woman was going to destroy, he just knew it.
As if on cue, the landline rang. It was the guard at the lobby, asking if he was expecting a Ms. Elisa Connor. Dean confirmed her story and went to the door to open it for her once she reached the top level where he and Richard lived.
Elisa Connor was a tall woman in her forties, if Dean had to guess her age. She wore her hair in a tight bun. The black-rimmed glasses, her tailored jacket, and the matching pencil skirt with sensible shoes made her look like an expensively dressed version of his elementary school teacher.
Elisa held out her hand in that slightly condescending manner all lawyers showed when dealing with nonlawyers. Dean had always wondered if they had to participate in special courses just to get the intimidating part right.
“Mr. Connelly, I presume?”
“Yes, that would be me. Please, come in.”
Dean let go of her hand and stepped aside so she could pass. While he closed the door, he could see how Elisa took in the apartment.
It was huge. The entire upper floor was theirs. Since Richard loved open spaces and full natural light, the entrance hall merged with the living area. An expensive leather couch in the shape of a crescent moon, custom-made, of course, faced a window that gave a spectacular view of the city and opened out to a veranda with a pizza oven and a set of lounges. The floor was Brazilian walnut, the walls painted in an eggshell shade. They didn’t have many trinkets around, both of them preferring clean surroundings. They did have paintings and photographs, though, and not of the cheap kind.
To Dean, this was all normal. He had grown up rich, made a fair amount of money with his books, and being with Richard was just a constant stream of all the privileges money could buy. It wasn’t something he still noticed. Only when he saw the reaction of strangers to his home—which, admittedly, hardly ever happened because they rarely allowed others in their sanctuary—did he realize how insanely wealthy his boyfrien
d was.
He had to give it to Elisa, though; she snapped out of her trance quickly. Coming from such a big firm, she was probably used to the blatant display of wealth.
“You have a very lovely home, Mr. Connelly.”
Dean had to suppress a chuckle. What a poor shot at being polite. “Thank you so much. The credit for that goes to our interior designer. He’s a genius. Now, would you care to tell me what this is all about? Why has my sister given you this address? Which, by the way, should remain confidential.”
Elisa Connor looked genuinely sad for a moment, and the feeling of dread knotted Dean’s stomach once again. “Of course it will. As well as your cell number. This information was given to me under confidentiality, so you can rest assured.”
She took a deep breath. “Can we sit down? This is not easy for me.”
Dean indicated the leather couch with his chin. Once they both had settled, Elisa started talking again, as if afraid to be silent for too long.
“I met Tricia when she did an internship at Connor and Partners. She was such a gifted lawyer. Before she went to Germany, she came to me to settle her affairs in case anything should happen to her. That’s when I got this number and address.”
Elisa paused once more. The wet sheen in her eyes told Dean before she opened her mouth what had happened. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Connelly. Tricia died in a car accident two days ago. Since she didn’t want you to be contacted by strangers in case anything happened to her, she listed me as her emergency contact. That’s why I’m here today.”
Dean just sat there and stared. There was an off feeling in his body, a tingling he couldn’t place. As if his insides were about to constrict, to squeeze until there was nothing left inside him.
He could see Elisa’s mouth moving, but no sound filtered through. The world had stopped and there was nothing that would make it spin again.
Tricia was dead.
His beloved, laughing, caring, beautiful, brilliant sister was no more.
His only family was gone.
Dean wondered if the feeling of emptiness was normal, or if it was because his heart had stopped. He ached, he needed Richard, but he was alone.
“Mr. Connelly?” Elisa’s sharp tone managed to pierce through the haze surrounding him. “I’m very sorry about your loss. Unfortunately, there is more. I don’t know if you’re aware, but your sister has a three-month old daughter. Her name is Emily. The pregnancy was complicated, and Tricia didn’t want you to worry, so she didn’t tell you about it. She said she wanted to surprise you when she returned home. Since there is no father registered for Emily, she is now orphaned.”
Dean gulped back his tears. There were just too many things crashing over his head all at once, so he clung to the things that came to his mind.
“What does that mean? What will happen to her?”
“In her will, Tricia named you guardian for Emily. She didn’t want her parents to take the child. The will is very specific. You are also the sole heir to Tricia’s fortune. Emily has a trust in her name that you will control as well.
“Tricia meant to tell you all these things when she came back. I know this must all be very confusing, and I’m sorry I couldn’t break this to you in a gentler manner. Emily will arrive in the States in three hours. A woman from the Florida Department of Children and Families Child Welfare Program will take care of her until you have made up your mind and the formalities are cleared. Do you have any questions? Or do you need time to yourself?”
Chapter 7
DEAN BLINKED, desperately trying to get a handle on the situation. He had never felt so cornered and helpless before. “Actually, both. This is a lot to process. Tricia never mentioned anything about being pregnant. Emily is already three months old, you say?”
Elisa nodded.
“Then why didn’t she tell me?”
“She said she felt it was important to see you personally for this. When she had Emily, she was so full of joy. As I said, there were complications during her pregnancy. It took a toll on her, not just physically. She was always so strong, so used to being in control. And then her body betrayed her, so to speak. It was hard.”
“You two were close.” It was a statement, not a question.
Elisa eyed Dean warily. “I know, it’s not very professional, but we already knew each other and, well, I always admired her. She made it easy for me to like her.”
“That was my sister.” Dean fought back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. “What happens to Emily should I not take her?”
Elisa’s expression turned serious. “Then the state will take matters in hand. I don’t wish to pressure you and neither did Tricia. She never expected for things to turn out like this. None of us did. First, the Child Welfare Program will get in touch with your parents to see if they would be willing to take Emily in. And, yes, that will happen despite what Tricia has stated in her will. If your parents refuse to take the baby, then she will go to foster care. A blond-haired, blue-eyed, white baby girl won’t take long to place. There’s a long list of couples waiting to adopt a child. She will be well cared for, that I can promise. What I can’t promise is that you will be allowed to have contact with her. If her new parents don’t want it, which is a high possibility, then they can cut contact.”
Dean mulled those words over. He didn’t like them. Didn’t like the idea of his little niece being with strangers, or, even worse, his parents. Growing up with their lies and hatred and arrogance.
Tricia had always been on his side. When he had told her about his book, she had been nothing but supportive, never once indicating she thought it was a ridiculous idea at best. Emily was now all he had left of his big sister. All the family that remained.
There was no way he could not take her in. She was his.
The thought of what Richard would say about all this hit him like a bucket of ice water, but not even the displeasure of his Dom and lover could change Dean’s decision. They would work things out. Richard would understand. He always did. Dean could do this.
“I want her. I don’t know anything about babies, but I guess there’s books I can read?”
Relief washed over Elisa’s features. She managed a shaky smile. “There are not just books. The Child Welfare Program can provide you with the contacts of nurses and capable nannies to help you in the beginning. Remember, when people have their first child, they are usually completely clueless.”
“So how does this work?”
“I’m going to inform the authorities that you are willing to take Emily in. There is some paperwork to go through, but that shouldn’t take too long. We can schedule your first meeting with Emily for the day after tomorrow. I have to warn you, though. They probably won’t let her stay with you immediately. Somebody from the office is going to check your home, to determine if it’s okay for a child to live here, and maybe they’ll insist on you taking a baby-care course before they leave Emily to your care. If things go smoothly, she can move in with you in a week or two.”
That didn’t sound so bad. Dean rose from the couch. “Thank you. And now, I need time to myself.”
Elisa rose as well. The sad expression was back on her face. She was about to turn to the door when she suddenly stopped. “Do you want to see her picture?”
Dean froze. His heart hammered against his chest as if he’d run ten miles. “You have a picture?”
“It’s not a very good one, but the authorities in Germany, who put her on the plane, sent me one. They’ve been very considerate.”
Elisa unlocked her cell, tapped at the screen a few times, and then held it toward Dean.
The picture didn’t show much—a little blurry and clearly taken in some sort of waiting room—yet it had his full attention. Emily was sleeping. She was dressed in a cute pink ensemble with a matching cap. Her tiny little fingers held a stuffed animal Dean identified as a mammoth.
His niece was beautiful and perfect, and his heart melted.
“Thank you.” He hes
itated a moment. He had just remembered something else. “Will Tricia be on the plane as well?”
Elisa shook her head. “Her body is still in the morgue. Once they give clearance, she will be cremated and the ashes will be sent to you. She had no specific wishes what you should do with them. She just wanted you to have them.”
Dean already knew there was no way he could spread his sister’s ashes anywhere. He wanted her close so she could see her little girl growing up. Elisa shot him one last sympathetic glance before she left. Dean closed the door, sank to the floor, and stared into nothing for a while.
Then he started to cry.
Chapter 8
RICHARD TOOK a deep cleansing breath when he entered the lobby of the apartment building. The three days in New York had been hell. He had worked nonstop to minimize the damage that good-for-nothing manager had caused. Things were still not smooth sailing, but it was nothing the assistant to the manager couldn’t deal with on her own. If she kept doing a good job, Richard would offer her the position permanently.
He greeted the receptionist and headed for the elevator, swiping his phone on the way. He stared at the vibrator app, not sure if he should activate it. He hadn’t heard back from Dean since the day before, when he had missed a call. Richard had been in a meeting then, and when he tried to call Dean back, it had gone straight to voicemail. Since there had been no further calls from Dean, and he also hadn’t responded to Richard’s texts, Richard assumed Dean had gotten lost in his writing, which happened on a regular basis. In fact, he was glad, because when Dean was in a writing trance, he didn’t care about Richard’s absence so much. Truth be told, he probably forgot Richard even existed. Only the story mattered then. But now Richard was back home, and it was time for Dean to snap out of work. The vibrator app was the perfect way to announce his return.
At the moment, it would alert his boy to his arrival. If Dean had any sense, he would be welcoming Richard on his knees, in a perfect display position. Richard felt his own cock harden just thinking about his boy. He opened the door to their apartment.
