by Nia Arthurs
“Come on,” he said with a little groan. “You’re killing me here.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just… have you heard anything about William yet?”
“He’s hiding for the time being, but Belize is a small country. Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”
“I’ve been thinking…”
“Uh-oh.”
“I’m serious, Trenton. I’ve decided… I’ll pay you back for everything William cost you. It will take me a while, but I’ll work harder and—”
“Hey, is that anything to say to your husband?” He tapped his chest. “What’s mine is yours.”
“But—”
“Why are we still arguing about this?”
“I feel so guilty. This wouldn’t have happened to you if not for me. You’ve already done so much for my mom, and now my dad’s taking advantage of you. My entire family’s using you, and it’s not fair.”
“Technically, they’re my family too. That gives them a little permission to take advantage of me.” She gave him an eye that warned him away from joking any further. He backed off and spoke sincerely. “Bree, you are the woman that I love. I can barely breathe when you come around. My heart beats so fast when you stand beside me, I think I’m having a heart attack. I want to call you in the middle of the day just to hear your voice. I want to rush home at night just to see your face—”
“Did you mean for that to be so cheesy or was it a fluke?”
He grinned, happy to see that the spark had returned to her eyes. “My point is that William and Merna were the two people responsible for bringing you into this world. I owe them much more than I’ve given.”
“That’s my point. You didn’t give. It was taken.”
“It’s done. We’ll confront William when the time is right. For now, would you accompany me to a very stuffy awards gala? Though your body… in that dress… I don’t know if I want to share.”
He gave her a head-to-toe look of approval. Nobody would notice if they showed up a few hours late for the party, would they? He just had to get there before they called his name. He could do that.
Trenton advanced, ready to claim her lips, when Breana ducked. With more energy than he’d expected a woman in such high shoes to possess, she slipped out of his grip and ran to the door.
“I spent hours getting ready, babe. You’re not messing up my makeup.”
Trenton’s grin threatened to overpower his face as he followed his wife and locked the door behind him.
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The Tourism Award Ceremony had all the trappings of a classic networking event. He knew that Breana must be endlessly bored with it all, but she carried on like a good sport and answered all the questions thrown her way with grace and poise.
Still, the constant personal inquiries, the dreary conversations, and the rare drunken guest made for a rather dismal evening. After a while, Trenton took pity on his wife and sent her off to enjoy the food and music.
“Are you sure?” Breana asked, her brown eyes filled with concern. “I can stick around if you want.”
“It’s okay. I’ve done these things solo before.”
“So you won’t miss me?” she asked with a teasing grin.
“I miss you already.”
She snorted. “You took the bait.”
“Hook, line and sinker. Now go and snag me a piece of lemon pie before they disappear.”
“Yes, sir.” She saluted and sent him a pretty smile before traipsing away to the desert table. Breana looked more alive on that stroll to the food than during their entire promenade around the crowded hall.
What was it about that Belizean beauty that had him so twisted into knots? Perhaps they were just starting into their newlywed bliss, but Trenton honestly couldn’t think of a more perfect partner for him. He continued to stare like a lovesick puppy until someone claimed his attention.
“Trenton! Good to see you, boy!” He turned to find a tall, slim man in a custom tailored suit offering his hand.
Trenton shook it enthusiastically. “Mr. Worthington, it’s a pleasure.”
“How is your mother, boy? I heard the treatment went well and she’s coming back this week.”
“Yes, my father went up to help her pack for her return. She’s more upset about leaving her friends at the hospital than anything.”
“I can imagine. Your mother always was a sweetheart.” Mr. Worthington turned and glanced across the room to where Breana was standing before the table laden with food. “I heard she’s not the only sweetheart in your life.”
“Yes,” Trenton nodded proudly, “I got married recently.”
“So I’ve heard.” Worthington leaned closer. “Tell me, son. Is it true? Everyone’s whispering about your… affair.”
“Excuse me?”
“They say you met her on the street corner?” Worthington wiggled his eyebrows. “Is it true?”
Trenton turned and snatched the man by the neck. “What did you just say?”
“Eck!” Worthington coughed. “It was just a rumor floating around.”
Trenton tightened his hold. “Who told you that? Who’s spreading rumors about my wife?”
“Everyone is talking about it,” Worthington said, wheezing from Trenton’s hold. “Won’t you put me down? People are looking!”
“I don’t care,” Trenton said. “My wife is the most beautiful, intelligent, honorable person I know. Keep her name out of your dirty mouth or I’ll—”
Before Trenton could continue the statement, a spotlight appeared above his head. Everyone in the room turned to watch the spectacle, and he quickly dropped Worthington. Chuckling lightly, he raised his hands.
“Uh,” the announcer on stage said through the mike, “Mr. Trenton Lorde of Lorde Industries is receiving the Minister’s Award for his involvement in the creation and building of over twenty luxury hotels in the country.”
A smattering of applause began and slowly caught on until the room burst into a wave of calls and cheers. Embarrassed for being found in such a compromising position, Trenton walked stiffly to the stage and accepted his award.
As he looked out into the crowd, he noticed George Camal’s entrance into the banquet hall.
“Sir, sir!” The photographer in front of the stage waved. “Please look at me.”
“Sure.” Trenton smiled for the camera and shook hands with the minister. As soon as the procedure was over, he bounded off the stage and searched the room for George’s grimy form.
Trenton finally spotted the man near the open balcony. He wore a gaudy brown jacket over yellow pants. Even from this distance, Trenton could see the gel holding Camal’s comb-over in place.
He didn’t actually plan on interacting with the man tonight, but he’d rather have Camal in his sights than have him sneak up on—wait… someone in the crowd parted and Trenton saw the woman George Camal was talking to.
Breana?
Panic burst through his chest like a popping balloon. Trenton moved determinedly through the crowd to get to his wife’s side. George Camal was far from Trenton’s biggest fan and with the rumors circulating tonight, he had no doubts that the man would try his best to throw salt into the wound.
If he made Breana cry; however, Trenton would make a scene. He cracked his knuckles in anticipation. George Camal had it coming.
Chapter 25
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So this was the infamous George Camal? Breana scanned the man from head to toe. He looked like the typical villain in any story—beady, glittering black eyes, slick hair, oily mannerisms. She disliked him immediately, and would have been wary of him without her knowledge of his war against Trenton.
“So,” George Camal hissed, “you’re the wife.”
“And you’re the stick that likes stirring up the water.”
“You’re quick on your feet. Any more brilliant examples of imagery left in your repertoire?”
“I was told when you have nothing nice to say, it’s best to keep sile
nt.”
Camal’s booming laughter grated her ears. She spun and glared at him. “If you don’t mind, I’m trying to watch my husband. Did you notice? He’s being awarded by the minister.”
“I see that,” Camal said, nodding stiffly. “But I wonder how approving the minster would be if he knew who Trenton Lorde had aligned himself with?”
“Excuse me?”
Camal sidled up to her. “Drug addict for a mother. Con man for a father. Can we really expect the daughter of low lives to rise above her circumstances? After all, we are products of our environment.”
Breana stared at Camal, saw the anticipation in his eyes, heard the tick of his smirk as it climbed higher on his weathered face. He was waiting for a reaction, but Breana was more amused than offended.
“You’re so funny, George. Can I call you George?”
“What?” His mouth opened and closed, the wrinkles deepening as he did so. “George?”
“George, let me tell you something about growing up with a drug addict mother.” She bent her head closer to his. “There are good days and there are bad days. On the bad days, you have to drag your mother off the streets where she’s begging for change to chase her next high. When you go to school the next day, the kids make songs about ‘Crazy Mary’ and her daughter. They refuse to sit next to you because they say you have AIDS. They push you down in the lunch line and play mean pranks.”
“Mrs. Lorde—” George choked.
“I know right,” Breana said. “Kids can be cruel sometimes, but it’s not a complete sob story because I got something out of all that bullying.” She pinched her arm. “Thick skin.”
“I actually hear someone calling for me…” George coughed and tried to run away, but Breana pulled him back.
“I’m a product of my environment, that’s true. It means I’m a scary person who knows some scary people.” Her eyes bored through his like daggers. “I saw you pull up in a fancy ride, George. It would be a shame if something… happened to it.”
“I didn’t mean any disrespect—”
“Get away from her!” a voice roared. Trenton leaped into view and grabbed Breana’s wrist, wrenching her body behind his.
George Camal wiped the sweat from his brow and scurried toward the stage. “That’s what I was trying to do!” he cried, nearly stumbling over his own two feet.
Trenton watched the older man’s retreat with confusion before he took on an arrogant air and flapped his jacket. “That’s right! You run… run away!”
Breana chuckled, but quickly fixed her expression when Trenton turned to look at her. His gaze was so intense and worried that she couldn’t bear to burst his macho-man bubble.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Did he say anything upsetting to you?” Trenton pushed up the sleeves of his jacket. “Should I go over there and—”
She snatched his arm to hold him back. “I’m fine. I missed watching you receive your award though. I wanted to take pictures.”
“Should I ask them to award me again?”
“Very funny. Hand it over. Let me see this glamorous plaque.” Trenton gave her the wooden carving, and she weighed it in her palm. “Eh, it’s nothing to write home about.”
“I agree.” He grinned and glanced behind her. “Where’s my lemon pie?”
She lured him closer and whispered. “I stuffed a bunch in my purse.”
“Why would you do that?”
“There’s still some left at the table. Don’t look at me like that. Haven’t you heard of the doggy bag?”
He stared at her as if she had spoken in a different language. Breana supposed that, in a way, she had. Trenton was used to having anything he wanted at any time. Dessert was such a treat for Breana growing up, that she had learned to take as much as she could when she had the chance.
“You’re so cute,” Trenton said finally. “Ready to go home?”
“But you haven’t eaten.”
“I’m okay. I can eat the lemon pies later.”
“Alright. Let’s get out of here.”
Their trek to the exit was slow, as Trenton had to stop and inform each person they’d greeted earlier that they were leaving. She endured the interruptions with a smile, but after the fourth person interrupted their exodus, she’d had about enough.
Turning her head, Breana considered leaving the room and waiting for her husband outside when she saw a tall, brown-haired woman. The woman swung around and Breana realized that it was not her boss, but the thought lingered.
“Hey,” she asked Trenton when he had a moment, “have you seen Cady?”
“Was she supposed to be here?”
“Yes.” Breana craned her neck to see over the crowd.
“Look. She’s over there.” Trenton pointed to a beautifully dressed woman striding desperately toward the exits. Even through the distance, they could see the wrinkles in Cady’s forehead and the severe turn of her mouth. “Is it just me or does she look upset?”
“That’s weird. Do you think something happened?”
“Let’s go see.”
Trenton and Breana followed the heiress out the banquet doors and into the hall, but Cady was taking such large strides that she got to the elevator before they did. At last a separate elevator opened up and Breana led Trenton inside.
Unease spread through Breana’s chest. Why had Cady looked so frightened? She wasn’t the type to let her emotions show easily—as Breana had learned after years of being terrorized by her.
Something was off.
After elevators deposited them in the lobby, Trenton and Breana marched toward the exits and spotted Cady in the parking lot. The woman clutched desperately for her car door and hauled it open just as they called her name.
“Cady!” Breana yelled. “Are you okay?”
Cady glanced up, surprised to see them. Brushing a lock of brown hair behind her ear, she forced a smile. “Hi, guys. I’m fine.”
“You looked strange in there,” Trenton added. “Is there something we can help you with?”
Cady stared at both of them with wide eyes. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
Breana glanced away. It was a good question. Cady definitely didn’t deserve her concern. Yet there was something about the woman—who was at once privileged and pitiful—that teased at Breana’s protective instincts.
Cady had been through a lot in the course of a few months. Unlike Breana, who’d been forged in fire and had come out stronger because of it, her boss’s upbringing made her unfamiliar with pain and heartbreak.
Breana stepped forward. “Cady, I—”
Before she could continue, Breana felt Trenton’s hand close around her wrists. He dragged her forward and when she glanced to the side, she saw that his hand was also wrapped around Cady’s.
Breana arched an eyebrow at the physical contact. He better move that hand before she dislocated it for him.
“Trenton, what are you doing?” she asked, aiming her glare at the fingers that gripped Cady’s arm.
“Run!” he yelled and tugged them harder. She stumbled, but Trenton yanked her up as a loud explosion rocked the lot.
All three were tossed aside by the impact. Breana’s shoulder thudded against the concrete as her body slammed to the ground.
Smoke billowed through the space and the wail of a hundred car alarms peeled into the night, rolling over the scent of burning metal and oil. Breana slowly got to her feet, straining to see past the grim cloud that hovered over the lot.
Panic tossed her heart like a ragdoll when she realized that Trenton was nowhere in sight. People poured out of the hotel. She saw men running toward her as if they moved in slow motion.
Her eyes scanned every face, but Trenton was not among them. Sliding one foot painfully in front of the other, she trudged forward. The smoke cleared, but the scene grew even more frenzied with the approach of dozens of onlookers.
“Have you seen Trenton?” Breana
asked, grabbing a hold of a man’s coat. Desperately, she twined her fingers in the fabric. “Have you seen my husband?”
“No,” he said.
Breana let him free and stumbled forward. “Trenton, where are you?” she mumbled. Her desperate search grew more arduous as her vision blurred. The world fell on its head, and it took her a moment to realize that she was falling too.
With the last of her strength, Breana forced her eyes open and maintained her scan of the now crowded parking lot until gravity roughly threw her down and darkness conquered her sight.
Chapter 26
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Trenton caught Breana just before she hit the ground. He cradled her in his arms as her body hung limply, her fingers brushing the concrete. Bile rose in his throat and a pressing, all-encompassing fear bottled in his chest.
“Bree, I’m here. I’m here. Open your eyes, sweetie.” He shook her, but she did not respond. Desperately, Trenton lifted his head and yelled until the veins popped out in his neck. “I need help! My wife is unconscious! Please call an ambulance!”
At that moment, the sound of sirens filled the air and a helpful onlooker drew the paramedics to Trenton and Breana.
“Please, step aside, sir.”
Trenton looked on as they put Breana on a stretcher and fitted her face with an oxygen mask. When her eyes popped open, Trenton nearly fainted with relief. Her gaze immediately sought his and he drew comfort from those big, brown eyes.
“Thank God,” he said, slipping his hand over her hair.
“How do you feel, miss?” the paramedics asked.
Breana sat up and Trenton rushed to help her. She swayed, but managed to stay upright on her own. “I’m fine. Where’s Cady?”
“You’re really concerned about Cady right now? You fainted, Bree.”
“That explosion came from Cady’s car, didn’t it? Is she alright? Did she get hurt?”
“She’s shaken up, but she’s okay. Her father came and took her away a few minutes ago.”
“That’s good.” Breana inhaled a deep breath. “Trenton?”
