She’d done good to stay away from him for so long, but what choice did she have? He made her feel nervous, excited, and weak all at the same time. Weakness was the most dangerous of those sensations. Being weak made you vulnerable. Once you were vulnerable, you could be hurt deeply. Irrevocably.
No one should have so much power over another.
Chapter Five
A week passed and Daniella didn’t hear from Cyrus, which suited her fine. It had taken a few days to recover from the confrontation with him anyway. Going to see him had been a lapse in judgment.
During a phone call with Davis a few days ago, he’d given her good news that the investigator had already started tailing Cyrus. She hoped he would have something of substance soon—some dirt she could use to force his hand.
In the meantime, she planned to forget her problems and enjoy a meal out. Roland had invited her out to dinner and she’d accepted.
At first she’d declined, worried Cyrus might have eyes everywhere. She’d even warned Roland that her husband knew they’d met once before, but he appeared unconcerned.
When she entered The Savory Date, a Moroccan restaurant and her absolute favorite place to eat, the inviting scent of savory stews simmering in spices greeted her and created a spike in her appetite. She hadn’t been eating well, a common condition when she worked long hours. If Cyrus knew, he wouldn’t be pleased and would make her get food in her stomach. He’d done it several times, bringing her a meal on his way somewhere and forcing her to sit still long enough to eat it, reminding her she should refuel her body so she could continue at the same pace. Odd she should remember that about him.
Roland was already seated at one of the round tables draped in a solid white tablecloth when she arrived. The host led her to the table, and he smiled a greeting, looking up from a bowl of lentil soup.
“I hope you don’t mind. I ordered an appetizer since you were running late.”
Daniella checked the time as she sat down. She was only five minutes late. He must have arrived early and ordered then. Cyrus would have never done that. He would have waited to see what she’d like to eat first.
She ordered water with lemon and smiled at Roland. The dark suit surprised her. At the company he’d helped start up, BoldMine, they seldom wore clothes more formal than khakis and a polo shirt.
He wasn’t bad-looking at all. Granted, he didn’t have Cyrus’s chiseled features, but his close-cropped hair was always short and neat, and he had the most beautiful brown eyes she’d ever seen on a man. Beautiful, but not with the same brooding intensity of Cyrus’s.
She silently berated herself. Why couldn’t she get him off her mind?
Roland scooted his chair closer to hers. “I have big, important news I want to share with you.” He grinned from ear to ear and looked immensely pleased with himself.
“What is it?” Daniella asked.
With a cocky grin, he said, “I’ll tell you soon, but we’ll need champagne for this.”
He piqued her interest with that comment. “Can I get a hint?”
Roland patted her hand. “Patience, my dear. Be patient.”
He clearly enjoyed having his little secret, and Daniella didn’t want to spoil it. Though she practically knew all the dishes by heart, she perused the menu as they waited for the server to return. She lifted her head when raucous laughter came from the other side of the restaurant. “Someone’s having a good time,” she murmured.
The comment had been meant for Roland’s ears, but the waiter walked up at the same moment with the very recognizable bottle of Armand de Brignac in hand. “There’s a group of businessmen in one of our semi-private rooms. They’ve been here since this afternoon, eating and drinking and spending a lot of money.”
“Sounds like that will be a nice tip for someone,” Daniella commented.
“Yes,” the waiter said, a wistful note to his voice. He obviously wished he had been the lucky employee chosen to wait on the group.
They ordered their meals and then the waiter poured them each a glass of champagne.
“I’m getting impatient,” Daniella said. “You have to tell me what we’re celebrating.”
“Success.” Roland lifted his glass and she lifted hers. “BoldMine found an investor. We’re about to go to the next level.” He grinned so widely he could have swallowed his ears.
“You’re kidding! I’m so excited for you.” She threw an arm around him and gave him a big hug. He’d been working on BoldMine for years, long before they’d met.
He chuckled appreciatively. “Cheers.”
They clinked their glasses together and both took substantial swallows of the pricey wine.
“Which means,” Roland continued, his voice filled with hidden meaning, “I can help you.”
She had no idea what he meant. She wasn’t in financial trouble. “Help me how?”
“With your divorce.”
Temporarily surprised by the offer, Daniella didn’t respond right away. Slowly, she set her glass on the table. “I still don’t understand what your success has to do with my divorce.”
“I can help financially. With more money you can hire a better attorney to fight and get your divorce. I want to help you,” Roland said.
“I appreciate your offer, but—”
“Don’t brush me off.” He set his glass beside hers and leaned forward with an eagerness that made her apprehensive instead of excited. “I’m confident once we sign on the dotted line, the infusion of cash into our software systems will catapult our company, and I will become an extremely wealthy man.”
“Maybe or maybe not. You don’t know for sure. What if the investor backs out?”
He shook his head, confident. “Everything will be fine,” he assured her.
“Even so, I won’t accept money from you.”
Roland placed a warm hand over hers. “Daniella, you’re in this mess because of me. The least I can do is help you get out of it.”
“I can’t accept your money.”
This was her fight, not Roland’s. Besides, she was happy with the work Davis performed, although he hadn’t been her first choice. Despite their history, she’d wanted a more high profile attorney to handle her divorce. But when she’d left Cyrus, she hadn’t moved quickly enough to hire anyone. She’d been preoccupied with settling into her new apartment and resolving problems at work. Cyrus had taken advantage of the delay and “conflicted out” a good number of the top divorce lawyers in the city. By meeting with them and sharing enough details about their marriage to establish an attorney-client relationship, he’d effectively kept them from being able to represent her.
“Yes, you can take money from me. Let me help you so you can become unmarried. Consider it a loan if it’ll make you feel better.”
Daniella looked at her glass on the table. “As much as I appreciate what you’re offering,” she said carefully, “I can’t let you do that. This is my problem, not yours, and I’ll find a way to deal with my husband. Fighting him is not as easy as you think. He has unlimited resources.”
“He’s not a god, Daniella.”
“I know.” Not a god, but certainly godlike in the extent of the power and funds available to him.
Roland’s jaw hardened. “He’s not going to change unless you play hard ball.”
“You think I haven’t tried?” Daniella asked, frustration lending an edge to her voice. “What makes you think you can defeat him? He has way more money than you or I, and he’s not afraid to spend it. You know all about that, don’t you?”
An unrecognizable expression flitted across Roland’s face. “Yes, I do. So that’s it, he’s filthy rich and therefore unstoppable. Whereas I’m…what? A pauper compared to him?”
“I wasn’t comparing you to him,” Daniella said. She placed a hand on his arm, regretting her remark. “He’s unstoppable, Roland. He has a team of attorneys and lots of money to spend on them.” The conversation was making her lose her appetite.
“Daniella?” Her name came
as an incredulous query from off to her left. The familiar voice sent the hairs on the back of her neck vertical. She looked up and into the frowning face of her brother-in-law, Trenton Johnson, Cyrus’s youngest brother. “What are you doing here?” His green-eyed gaze moved from the bottle of champagne chilling in the bucket to her hand still resting on Roland’s arm. His frown deepened.
“I’m having dinner,” she said. She left her hand in place in a display of impudence. “What are you doing here?”
“Business dinner,” he replied.
Her eyes darted in the general direction of where she’d heard the group of men laughing. Was Cyrus with him? Apprehension skittered down her spine.
Roland cleared his throat, which drew Trenton’s attention to him. Roland stood and extended his hand, introducing himself.
Trenton shook the proffered hand. “Trenton Johnson, Daniella’s brother-in-law.” Trenton’s emphasis on the relationship was unmistakable and made her feel guilty. But she hadn’t done anything wrong. They were simply two friends having dinner.
“Nice to meet you, Trenton,” Roland said.
“I’ll let you get back to your meal.” Trenton was not smiling at all, unusual since he had a gregarious personality, particularly when compared to his oldest sibling. “I’ll let Cyrus know I saw you.”
Their eyes remained on each other. She could tell he knew she wanted to know if Cyrus was with him.
“Do that,” she said with more chutzpah than she felt.
One eyebrow lifted a fraction, but he didn’t say anything else before walking away.
“Daniella,” Roland said, “he can’t hurt you if you don’t let him.”
Easy for you to say, she thought.
Minutes later, she saw the businessmen leaving, still engaged in a vigorous conversation, laughing as they exited. Trenton was among them, but he didn’t turn in her direction, as if he didn’t even know she was there. She drained her glass of champagne, her eyes lingering at the end of their short line of bodies. Despite looking forward to the delicious food earlier, she didn’t know if she could touch the lamb stew and couscous when they arrived. Her stomach had tangled into a knotted bundle. Would Cyrus make an appearance?
A few more minutes passed and still no Cyrus. A puzzling ache filled her chest, which made no sense, since she didn’t actually want to see him…did she?
Finally she accepted he wasn’t there and relaxed. No doubt Trenton would inform him he’d seen her and Roland together, but at least she didn’t have to worry about a confrontation tonight.
She was laughing at one of Roland’s comments when, as if he’d been conjured out of thin air, Cyrus came around the corner. Tall and imposing, he weaved his way through the tables filled with diners, an expression on his face that suggested he wanted to hurt someone. All the muscles in her body seized up.
He had been here.
She held her breath until his long strides brought him beside their table, a look of displeasure on his face.
He looked down at her without acknowledging Roland with even a glance. “Having fun, Dani?”
Chapter Six
Daniella glared up at her husband in defiance. “Yes, I am.”
Roland rose swiftly to his feet. “What a surprise to see you here, Cyrus.” A hint of nervousness colored his voice, but he stuck out his hand, reaching across Daniella to do so.
Cyrus’s gaze flickered to his outstretched hand, making it clear he saw it, and then dipped back to her. “What do you think you’re doing?” He spoke calmly. But didn’t he always?
“Eating dinner,” she replied in a steady tone.
She didn’t want the confrontation to escalate. Beneath Cyrus’s deceptively calm exterior lurked a lion ready to pounce at the slightest provocation. He spoke in a low, neutral voice, but his jaw was tight. Even if Roland didn’t seem to sense the full extent of the danger, she knew it firsthand. She’d seen Cyrus eviscerate opponents for minor infractions, and considering how much he disliked Roland, she wouldn’t be surprised if there was bloodshed.
Their waiter hustled to the table, a ready-to-please expression on his face. “Mr. Johnson, may I get you a chair?”
“That would be nice, thank you. Right here would be fine.” He pointed to the spot on Daniella’s left, which meant she’d be sandwiched between the two men.
The waiter ran off and almost immediately returned with a chair, which he placed in the exact location Cyrus indicated. The young man never even bothered to ask Roland or her if it was okay to have Cyrus join their table. He assumed it would be, which grated on her nerves.
“The two of you back together now?” Cyrus sat in the chair and rested one shiny black shoe on his knee, patiently waiting for an answer.
She didn’t know how to respond. Part of her wanted to thrust a lie in his face and tell him she was romantically involved with Roland, but another part of her worried about the repercussions.
Roland sat down, too, and cleared his throat, no doubt as uncomfortable as she was in this awkward situation.
Cyrus followed up with another question, this time directed at Roland. “You know we’re still married, don’t you?”
Roland nodded. “I do. But I also know she wants a divorce.”
Cyrus’s eyes returned to Daniella. He pinned her with a dark stare and she fought the urge to squirm. “She’s not getting one. No matter what means she uses to try to get it.”
The way he looked at her sent a trickle of nervous energy down her spine. Did he know about the investigator?
“I was going to save this for another time, but since we’re all here together, why not do it now? I have to give you credit for trying, by the way.” That’s when she knew for sure he’d found out about the P.I. and her stomach dropped in dismay. “My driver noticed a dark sedan around more often than not. By the way, your investigator made a good choice, using a nondescript vehicle, but it wasn’t good enough. The driver I usually use is former special forces, so he pays attention to details in a way most people don’t.” He pulled an envelope from his breast pocket, set it on the table, and pushed it toward her. “I received these today and planned to send them to you, but why delay?”
Daniella stared at the envelope, the nervousness in her gut intensifying.
“Go ahead, open it,” Cyrus prodded.
Carefully, Daniella opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of photos. Regrettably, the investigator who’d been following Cyrus over the past week could be seen in each one sitting in his car or snapping photos through the long lens of a camera. While he’d been watching them, they’d been watching him.
“Funny thing happened,” Cyrus continued, obviously enjoying himself. “We found out who he was working for. I thought he was another low life paparazzi, but imagine my surprise when he mentioned Davis Williams. It was easy enough to figure out this had to do with our divorce, and with a few more questions we found out all the details of your plan. Then I made the problem go away.”
Daniella shoved the pictures back in the envelope and dropped it on the table. “You paid him off.”
“It’s amazing what people will do when you quadruple their fee. Sad, isn’t it? The lack of ethics in today’s society.”
“And you exploit it.”
“It’s not my fault people can be bought.” He looked pointedly at Roland, who shifted uneasily in his chair. “How are things with your little software company?”
His condescension didn’t stop Roland’s chest from swelling with pride. “We secured an injection of cash thanks to a generous investor. We’re on our way to bigger and better things, and our software will change the world.”
“Is that right? You made good use of the million dollars I gave you after all. I had my doubts.”
“Stop it,” Daniella said, embarrassed for Roland.
“It’s inventory tracking software, isn’t it?” Cyrus asked. Something about the tone of his voice gave Daniella the distinct impression Cyrus already knew the answers to his questions.<
br />
“Yes. It’ll aid manufacturers and retailers in communicating better than ever. We’re about to change Just-In-Time into In-The-Moment.” He sounded proud of his accomplishments, and he should be. He’d worked hard for years to get to this point.
“I’m happy for you, but I thought I told you to stay away from my wife.”
“That’s enough,” Daniella hissed. “Do you have to be so rude?”
“I paid him a million dollars. Despite my wealth, a million dollars is not a little bit of money.”
“That was more than four years ago,” Roland said.
Cyrus’s glaze slid to Roland, his eyes as black and hard as coal. “A deal is a deal, and I don’t like it when people renege on deals.”
Roland licked his lips. “Give me some time, and I’ll give you the money back.”
“I don’t want the money. I want you to stay away from my wife.”
“What I do, when I do it, and with whom, is none of your business,” Daniella interjected.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Cyrus said. “Everything you do is my business because it affects me and reflects on our marriage. Therefore, I forbid you to see this snake again.” He spoke in an imperious tone, as if he thought she’d simply fall in line with his dictate.
“Snake? Wait a damn minute,” Roland blustered.
“Roland, please.” Daniella could feel frustration course through her body. Back and forth, back and forth they went, and she was caught in the middle. She took a deep breath. “Cyrus, you can’t forbid me to see anyone, and even though you found out about the investigator, I’m not done. I won’t give up.”
“You’re wasting precious time. Neither of us is getting any younger.”
“We should leave,” Daniella murmured to Roland. She stood and both men promptly followed suit.
“Time is up, Dani,” Cyrus warned.
She looked up into his granite features. “You don’t scare me.”
His mouth twitched into a half-smile. He seldom smiled, and more often than not, when he did, he wore that damned half-smile. Which she hated. It reeked of arrogance and a superiority complex—fed by the way people danced around him, rushed to do his bidding, and damn near curtsied in his presence.
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