by Lan LLP
Sauntering up to me with Nik and Belle by his side, Carson inquires, “Are you missing that sweatshirt you love and wear all the time?”
“Yes,” I snip.
“Are you positive you didn’t drop it in the dressing room?”
“Yes…um…I’m not sure.”
“Let’s go check there and then report it to Lost and Found if we can’t find it,” Carson calmly suggests. I nod my head in agreement.
Chapter 16
Carson Bradley
My surprise visit to the dance studio didn’t turn out quite the way I had pictured it. Lil is still pissed at me as we drive back to the penthouse. So I might’ve overreacted with Edison. She knows I don’t know how to share. I’m an only child who suffers from that syndrome that she’s well aware of. Her eyes are fastened to the view outside the window. There’s nothing interesting, just annoying traffic. Her responses to my questions are concise—one word answers or a head nod or shake. I can’t resist stealing glimpses of her adorable pouty face as she enforces the silent treatment on me. It’s hard to take her seriously. All I can see is my Lil hidden under a colorful layer of feathers and sequences. This must be either Nik’s or Andrew’s handiwork.
The minute we enter our place she makes a beeline for the bedroom to hunt down her missing sweatshirt. It wasn’t returned to Lost and Found at the dance studio. She ransacks our enormous closet, searching like a mad woman. I didn’t realize how attached she was to that ragged thing. I can’t say that I’m upset it’s missing. She hasn’t taken advantage of all the expensive clothes I’ve bought for her.
“Lil, what’s so special about that old sweatshirt?” I ask as I watch her sift through all her clothes.
“That old thing is irreplaceable to me. As much as I wanted to go away to college, I didn’t have the heart to leave my mom alone. On my seventeenth birthday, she gave me a gift box with that sweatshirt and a large envelope full of money. She told me, ‘Lily, you’re going to I.U.’”
“Now I understand. I’m sorry. I can see you two are everything to each other.”
“We are,” she agrees, her voice soft and fragile.
After hearing Lil’s story, I feel like shit for wishing a terrible fate for that tattered thing. Lil’s mother appears to be a selfless woman who’s sacrificed a great deal for her daughter. She did an amazing job raising an incredible young lady whom has captured my heart with ease. With so much admiration for Lil’s mom, I look forward to meeting her more than ever.
“I’m sure it’ll show up eventually,” I encourage, kneeling down in front of her on one knee. Distracted by a wispy feather in her hair, I pluck it out and blow it away from between my fingers. “By the way, nice outfit,” I kid as I persuade my smirk from breaking free. She rolls her eyes in response.
Overlooking my ribbing, she tells me, “I hope so,” with a heavy sigh. “Besides for my necklace, it was the only thing that’s kept my mom close to me since I left home,” she shares as her eyes drop to the white fibers on the carpet.
I know what can turn this entire evening around for Lil, but I don’t want to ruin her surprise. After the Make It Magical event, Lil and I will be flying to Fort Wayne for her friend’s wedding. Nik, Isabella and Owen have been taking care of all the details for me.
“I should be getting some answers from Owen within the next few days. I think a trip to your mom’s looks very promising.”
“Seriously?” she excitedly replies with her hands to over her mouth, obscuring her beautiful smile as her eyes brighten with joy. Rising on to her knees, she circles her arms around my neck to pull me closer to her. I guess this means I’m forgiven for that jealousy stunt I pulled earlier.
“Yes, seriously. Am I lovable again?”
“Hmmm…,” she purrs and cups my face in her hands to examine me. Turning my head from side to side, she trifles, “Handsome? Definitely yes. Lovable? Still…undecided.”
Freeing my face from her hands, I press my lips into each palm and leave a kiss there. “I’ll take what I can get. I’m not proud when it comes to you. Now how about dinner? What would you like to eat that’s not pizza or Italian?”
“Thai?”
“I love Thai. Do you know what you want?”
“Anything that’s not too spicy.”
“Alright. I’ll order dinner while you clean up this disaster you created in here,” I tell her as I twirl my finger around the pile of clothes on the floor.
“Carson, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I hope you know I’m not deliberately keeping you away from people you love. In my line of work, I encounter a lot of ruthless competitors. Some of them have no integrity. They’ll do whatever it takes to be on top—even hurt innocent people like you to get to me. I don’t want them anywhere near you, not even a single strand of your hair,” I tell her truthfully. She has been so honest with her feelings that I feel guilty for keeping secrets from her even if it’s for her protection.
“Do you know who has your researchers? Are they dangerous people? Will they hurt you?” she asks, worried. Again, she’s so selfless. She’s concerned about my safety rather than her own.
Shit! Maybe I shouldn’t have revealed too much to her. I’ve scared her.
“I have a name, but we’re still investigating. Don’t worry, Angel. I’m safe. They’ll never come anywhere near us,” I assure with my arms securely wrapped around her body as apprehension leaks into my mind. I should have Owen add a few more bodyguards to watch over Lil as soon as we get back from Indiana. Those assholes won’t be pleased when I ignore their demand in another week. If they’re cocky enough, they’ll probably escalate their threat to something more personal.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” she murmurs sadly into my chest. “I can’t be without you.”
“Shh…no more negative thoughts,” I soothe. “Nothing will happen to either one of us. You’re stuck with me forever—like it or not.”
“I’ll take forever,” she smiles against my chest.
Wesley Montgomery
Sitting here in my father’s office brings back memories of my granddad Charles. Because I was the only Montgomery grandchild, I was the center of his attention. Regardless of how callous he treated others, he was always affectionate with me. Granddad instilled in me the value of wealth and how important it is to hold on to it.
When I was about seven, he took me to a poverish part of Boston. He pointed out where the homeless lived and what they did for food. He kneeled down, looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Wes, this is why I stop at nothing when it comes to making money. I used to live in one of those buildings. But you’ll never have to because you’ll never be poor.” I nodded my head in response as if I understood what he meant. He patted the top of my head with a big grin and chuckled, “Good boy. Granddad will teach you everything.”
My father’s momentum courses through the office door the second he cracks it open, hitting me with his bursting energy. His normal pace is fast. He’s always on the run.
“Wes, thanks for seeing me here, between my meetings. I’ve been very busy.”
“Sure, Dad. No problem. Um…since you and Bianca are now acquainted, how much longer do you need me here in Boston? I’d like to go back to Hong Kong.”
“Just another week or two. I might need your help with another matter,” my father replies sternly. This curt tone he’s taking with me isn’t typical, and I don’t like where our conversation is heading. I was under the impression that after my one deed was completed I’d be done with this mess.
“I have business to attend to,” I reply daringly even though I know this isn’t the best time to bring it up.
“Your business can wait. Besides, Mr. Ly has made it clear that Bridgette is off limits for the Montgomery’s,” he asserts bluntly.
Shit! How does he know about Bridgette? That terrifies me. If he knows, then Mr. Ly probably does too. No way. If Mr. Ly knew, he wouldn’t have bought the stocks to help me.
&
nbsp; “It’s not what you think,” I defend myself. If he only really knew, Bridgette wants nothing to do with me. I’m the one obsessing over her from a distance like a sick, lost puppy for the past three years.
“Wes, let’s not go there. I don’t have time for this,” he cuts me off. “I want to personally thank you for persuading Bianca to cooperate with my plan. She’s a cunning woman who knows exactly what she wants and isn’t shy about voicing it.”
“I’m glad I can help.”
What my father doesn’t know is Bianca didn’t need any convincing from me. She jumped for the moon as soon as she heard Chandler Montgomery wanted to meet with her. My father is an influential man among the conceited aristocrats. She knew his name the second it rolled off my tongue.
“She’ll be a great asset for us to have in getting our hands on Bradley’s new bone drug.”
“I’m sure she will be,” I agree while forcing my eyes to not roll back. “Have you heard from Bradley yet? Is he willing to fork over the formula?” I pry with caution. Everything about this is wrong. I don’t want anyone harmed over a stupid drug that we know nothing about.
“I think he might need a little more persuasion,” he suggests with a disturbingly cruel expression on his face. The left corner of his lips is curled up like a cursive C while his eyes are hooded in contemplation. Who is this shady man? I know my father can be intimidating. But frightening like Satan? This is new territory for me. I hate to ask what he has in mind. Honestly, I really don’t want to know—kidnapping two innocent researchers is already going too far in my book.
“What kind of persuasion?”
Fuck! Did I just really ask him that?
“I gave him two generous weeks to consider my demand. If he doesn’t give me what I want, I’ll steal something even more precious to him than this drug formula for collateral.”
Wes, don’t do it! Don’t ask him any more questions! The less you know the better it’ll be for you.
“Are you talking about a family member of his?” I pry against my own warning.
You idiot!
“Even better. I have an insider who just confirmed his lover did not die in an accident and is still very much alive. After I relayed that news to Bianca earlier today, she was even more eager to help my cause. All she wants in return is Bradley.”
“Dad, you can’t be serious. You’ll be responsible for three kidnappings. Bradley’s girlfriend is just twenty-two or twenty-three years old.”
“Correction, son. It’ll just be two kidnappings. Bianca will be accountable for the girl, not me. I’m only offering her any aid she needs to accomplish her task.”
“What will happen to the girl after you get Bradley’s formula?” I ask worriedly. I don’t like the sound of this. My gut is all knotted up with anxiety.
“I don’t know or care. That’s up to Bianca,” he hisses like a cold venomous snake. “She can do whatever the hell she wants with her.”
I never thought I’d ever agree with anything that came out of Mimi’s mouth until today. Repetitively, she’s reminded me I could never be a true Montgomery. Well, she’s right. I have a conscience and a heart and I don’t value money more than people’s lives.
What the fuck! What do I do now? I can’t walk away. I’m responsible for three lives.
“Wes, what’s troubling you? You look disoriented,” he snaps at me with his hand tapping the desk.
“I was thinking about how I can rearrange my schedule so I can be here for you,” I lie with a pursed smile.
“That’s my son. I knew you would understand the measures we have to take to stay on top.”
“I do,” I lie again through a phony display of happiness.
__________
“Oh dear, you look terrible. Why the long face, Wes?” Ms. Polly asks as I enter the penthouse. “Can I get you something?”
“I’m fine, Ms. Polly.”
“You can’t fool me. I’ve been taking care of you since you were a wee baby. You’re not fine. You want to talk? Now or later?” she offers with her consoling blue eyes.
With a resigned sigh I tell her, “I’m torn,” as my hands run agitatedly through my hair. “I don’t know what I should do. My father is involved with something that goes against what I believe in my heart,” I disclose frankly.
“Wes, listen to your heart. You’re a good man. No matter how hard the Montgomery men have tried to mold you, they can’t change what’s inside you,” she advises with her hand rested on my shoulder.
“Thank you, Ms. Polly. Thanks for keeping me grounded all these years.”
“No, dear, it was all you. It’s unfortunate Mimi doesn’t realize what a wonderful son she has. It’s her loss, not yours.”
“That reminds me. Has that P.I.¸ Evan Miller, called back with info for my biological parents? I’ve given him several weeks already.”
“No. I don’t recall that he has.”
“I better see what he’s up to.”
“Would you like me to set dinner for you? I made your favorite, rib eye roast.”
“No. I can do that myself. You didn’t have to go through all that trouble, but thank you. Good night, Ms. Polly.” I wave my hand and trek up the stairs to my bedroom.
For years and years I’ve debated whether I should search for my biological parents or not. The stubborn voice in my head finally convinced me to do it. I asked around and a private investigator by the name of Evan Miller came highly recommended.
Three weeks later and still no answers. Highly recommended my ass.
Swiping through the contact list on my phone, I search for his number. Three rings before he accepts my call.
“Hello, Mr. Montgomery. I was just about to call you,” he claims.
“What a coincidence that I’m calling you instead,” I reply in a skeptical tone.
He’s full of shit. I can’t believe I paid him the entire balance up front.
“I have good and bad news for you. Which one do you prefer first?” he asks warily.
“Bad,” I mutter, irritated.
“Okay. Bad first. I found your parents, but your father is deceased. He died in a work-related accident shortly after you and your twin brother were born. Your mother is now remarried. You have a half-sister and brother.”
Oh fuck! I have a twin brother and half-siblings.
“Where’s my mother living now?” I demand. My heart is throbbing with excitement and confusion. I have this overpowering need to see her immediately to have her answer all my “Why?” questions.
“Bloomington.”
“Where the hell is that?”
“It’s a city in southern Indiana. Haven’t you heard of Bobby Knight? He was the Indiana University coach who threw his chair across a basketball court.”
Ignoring his nonsense babbling, I insist, “Can you email me her address?”
“Yes, of course. You want to hear something ironic? I completed a case a few weeks ago for a lady whose target was also linked to Indiana University and Bloomington. Can you believe she fired me because I didn’t want to be involved in a so-called accident plot?”
What the hell is this man jabbering about? Wait a minute…did he just say a so-called accident plot? Oh fuck! What are the unlikely chances?
“Mr. Miller, was your former client’s name Bianca Sorté?”
“How did you…um…I can’t…disclose my client’s name to you. It’s…confidential.” He stumbles clumsily over his words as he attempts to conceal his slip-up.
My curiosity is piqued. I need definite answers, and I know exactly how to get them. “I’ll give you five thousand dollars cash if you give me the details. It’ll just be between us.” I coax and wait for him to respond. One thing I’ve learned from my father and granddad is money can weaken even the strongest if the amount is high enough. Mr. Miller is no exception.
Chapter 17
Lillian Ly
Batting my tender lids to open, I see a white flower of some sort on Carson’s pillow throu
gh the fringe of my lashes. Surprise, surprise. Carson is already up and out of bed. It can’t possibly be passed 8:00 a.m. Doesn’t this man ever enjoy the luxury of sleeping in? I surely do. Raising my body on my elbows, my eyes spot a note under a pale lotus blossom. This man is so perfect that even his handwriting is impeccable.
Our magical journey begins now. Together we’ll find our forever. The first item you’ll need is in the closet. x C
I’m positive there’s a ridiculous smile pasted on my face as I read his sweet note. No wonder this man never sleeps in. He’s always busy discovering ways to melt my heart, keeping me utterly head over heels for him. Tossing the sheets off my body, I jump out of bed and race into the closet, excited and breathless. Intentionally, I assume, a white box trimmed with pink ribbon and a name tag marked “Lillian” is set centered on top of an accessory island. The silk bow slides easily off and so does the lid. Glimmer from a diamond tiara blinds me, triggering a handful of whimsical thoughts to surface.
It’s so beautiful! But why a princess tiara? Oh Mr. Bradley, these diamonds better not be real.
The anticipation fuels my curiosity, propelling my imagination and feet to race. Grabbing the tiara in one hand and the lotus in the other, I speed down the hallway to find Carson. My keen nose follows the bold aroma of coffee to the kitchen. For sure I thought I would find him here getting his caffeine fix, but no Carson. The next logical place I deduce would be his office. I rush down the opposite hallway and once again, no Carson. It’s way too early to play hide-and-seek. Where the heck can he be? I swear he told me last night we would be spending today together.
In bed most of the time if I recall correctly.
Carson is a major stickler when it comes to following rules—even more so than me. No matter how hard I tried to persuade him to make love to me last night he still refused. I even slipped into bed naked after brushing my teeth—talk about putting myself out there.
