Bared to the Billionaire: The Complete Series

by Sylvia Pierce

  “I’m not going to stop you,” he said, “but will you at least hear me out?”

  Arianne pulled her hair into a hasty ponytail, then turned to face him again, her eyes blazing. “Make it quick.”

  “I hear what you’re saying,” he said, “and your instincts are bang on. Trick might talk—it’s our best bet for information about Natasha. But you can’t trust him, Arianne. He’s loyal to Davidson, just like you were.”

  “I was loyal because I had no other options. Davidson handled my bills, the fees on my penthouse, my credit cards, clothes, groceries, everything. Yeah, I got paid, but I never actually saw the money. Trick and the others? They see the money. The minute Trick realizes there isn’t any this time, he’ll turn against—”

  “Turning against Davidson doesn’t mean he’s turning towards us,” he said. Arianne shook her head, but Jared plowed on. “This man has been stalking you—us—for weeks. He was very likely involved in kidnapping your sister. And let’s not forget the obvious—he’s a criminal, Arianne.”

  “So I should just do nothing? Let them keep my sister? Davidson’s probably going to kill her, Jared. If you think I’m going to let that happen, you’re—”

  “That isn’t happening,” Jared said. “Don’t even think it.”

  “He’ll talk. I’m telling you.”

  “You’re absolutely certain he’ll come round, then? Because unless you can convince me of it, I’m not letting you walk into another trap alone. It’s too risky, and we don’t know all the facts yet.”

  Arianne grabbed her purse, shoving the paperwork inside. She’d gone from determined to pissed in five seconds flat.

  “What is it?” he asked. “Don’t shut me out.”

  Her face was blotchy with anger, her movements stilted as she continued to shove things into her purse—a hairbrush, her phone, her wallet. “It’s just… I’m not one of your business deals. You can’t control this. Me. Everything. You need to trust me, too, Jared.”

  “I’m not trying to control you, love.” Jared put his hands on her shoulders. “I just want—”

  “You just want me to do what you say, because you don’t think I can handle Trick. I went and got my ass kicked last night, and now I’m just weak and helpless and—”

  Jared cut her off with a kiss. He didn’t care about her injured lip; he needed her to understand what she meant to him, why he was so adamant about this. It had nothing to do with her getting her ass kicked, and everything to do with the unbearable thought of losing her. Jared threaded his hands into her hair and pulled her closer, claiming her lips, sliding his tongue into her mouth, kissing her bloody breathless.

  When they finally came up for air, Ari closed her eyes, the tension between them fading. Jared touched his forehead to hers and sighed. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met, Arianne Holbrook. I have every confidence in you. You need to believe that.”

  She nodded.

  Jared stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I just want you to talk it through completely, out loud, so we can figure this out together. You’re putting your fate—and Natasha’s—in the hands of a thief and a few spreadsheets. We need a solid plan.”

  Arianne pulled back to meet his eyes. He thought he’d finally gotten through to her, but then she folded her arms across her chest, and he saw that stubborn streak rear its head once again.

  “Here’s your solid plan,” she said. “I’m going to see Trick. I’m going to make him talk. And then I’m going to get my sister back.”

  “Arianne—”

  “You’ve got two choices for next words,” she said. “One, be careful. Or two, I’m coming with you.”

  For a moment neither of them spoke. Arianne nodded once, then turned away, ready to head out on her own.

  “Don’t be daft, woman,” Jared said. As far as he was concerned, letting the woman he loved walk out that door without him wasn’t a choice—it was a death sentence. For both of them. “Of course I’m coming with you.”

  She turned to face him, her lips curved in a grateful smile. “Thanks for sticking by me.”

  “I’m not leaving your side, love. Not today, not ever.” Jared dressed hastily, grabbed his phone and keys from the dresser, shoved them into his pockets, and ran a hand through his hair.

  Go-time.

  “Okay, Crusher,” he said. “Let’s go get our man.”

  Chapter Five

  They were standing just outside the front doors of Ari’s lobby when she spotted Trick out of the corner of her eye. He pretended not to notice them as he approached, pausing only long enough to shake a cigarette out of the pack and light it up before resuming his walk.

  As he sucked in a deep breath of tobacco smoke, Ari stepped in front of him and flashed a disarming smile. “Afternoon, friend. Just the man we wanted to see.”

  Trick’s eyes narrowed at her, then slid over her shoulder and found Jared.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he said, the cigarette dangling from his lip.

  Jared smiled. “She’s neither fucking you nor kidding you. As a man who’s been on the receiving end of both, I assure you—they’re quite memorable events.”

  Trick tried to duck Jared’s grip, but Jared was faster and more powerful. He grabbed Trick by the collar, then yanked the cigarette from Trick’s mouth and tossed it into a nearby ashcan.

  “Hungry? Brilliant. Let’s go for a nosh.” Jared pulled him toward the diner on the corner.

  Ari had never seen Jared so worked up, so intense—not in bed, not during their highly competitive Brawler matches, not even when she’d first confessed to casing his home for a future robbery. Seething with a dark and dangerous anger, he was one hundred percent alpha, the look in his eyes cold and severe, muscles straining against his shirt, his mere presence so damn intimidating it made Ari’s whole body shiver.

  It also made her panties wet.

  Thank God we’re on the same side.

  Trick stumbled and grunted as Jared dragged him down the sidewalk, but otherwise followed without protest.

  Inside the diner, Jared shoved Trick into a booth, sliding in beside him. Ari took the seat across from them.

  “Anyone else with you today?” Jared asked.

  “Jesus, man. It’s just me.” Trick looked at Ari, his eyes blazing. “What the fuck is this, Ari?”

  Jared grabbed Trick’s jaw, digging his fingers into the flesh and forcing Trick to meet his eyes. “You don’t look at her, you piece of shit. You look at me. Understood?”

  Trick fumed, but his rage petered out quickly. One look at Jared’s face, and even an idiot could tell that he wasn’t screwing around.

  Ari’s heart pounded, her face hot, her emotions ping-ponging from high to low and back again. As frightened as she was for her sister, Jared’s fierce protectiveness had her stomach in a free fall. Gone was the polite British charm, the cool man in a suit who saved his dirty talk for the bedroom and his violence for video games. The man sitting across from her now was a feral beast that couldn’t be caged.

  Ari didn’t want him caged. She wanted to crawl into his lap, claim his mouth in a kiss, and mark him the way he’d marked her—from the inside out.

  Jared finally released Trick’s face, and Ari let out a breath, her heart still slamming behind her ribcage.

  “So here’s how it’s going to work, Tricky Dick.” Jared threw his arm around Trick’s shoulders and nodded toward Ari, keeping his eyes on Trick the whole time. “This lovely woman is going to ask you a few questions, and you’re going to answer them. If you lie—and believe me, I’ll know—you’ll be leaving this restaurant on a stretcher. Understood?”

  Reluctantly, Trick nodded.

  The waitress came by with menus and waters, cluelessly rattling off the day’s specials. She’d probably seen it all before—fights, breakups, late-night brawls. Ari couldn’t care less what the waitress thought, anyway; she and Trick were locked in a vicious stare.

  When the waitress finally left,
Trick looked from Ari to Jared, then back to Ari, baring his teeth like a dog. “You tell him everything, Ari? Sell us out like your daddy did?”

  “Hey, arsehole.” Jared clamped down hard on Trick’s shoulder, making him wince. “Dead from the neck up? As I explained, she’ll be asking the questions, and you’ll be answering them. Right?”

  Trick’s face was as red as a ruby, but he finally nodded.

  “Where is she?” Ari asked. It was the only question that mattered.

  Trick rolled his eyes. “Come on, Ari. You know I can’t—”

  “Have we decided?” The waitress was back, inadvertently saving Trick from another of Jared’s threats. Trick insisted that he wasn’t hungry, but Jared ordered coffee and apple pies all around.

  When they were alone again, Ari pulled out the papers she’d tucked into her purse, and tossed them across the table at Trick. “He’s not going to pay you, Trick. Not you, not Lilah, not Keens, not even Vincent. So if you’re protecting him out of some fucked up sense of loyalty, you can stop.”

  “The fuck you talking about?” Trick grabbed the papers and flipped through. “What is this shit?”

  “The truth,” Ari said. “He screwed you guys. All of you. He’s been doing it all along. Annandale, One Night Stand, everything in between. This time, he’s not even pretending to give you guys a share.”

  “Where’d you get this?” Trick said.

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Like hell it doesn’t,” Trick said. “For all I know, you and English here cooked this up an hour ago, marked it up all nice and legit.”

  Through clenched teeth, Ari said, “You have my sister, dickhead. You really think I’d take a chance like that?”

  “Jesus Christ, Ari.” Trick slouched down in his seat, finally losing steam. He lowered his eyes, running his thumbnail along a crack in the tabletop, his mouth pulled into a tight frown. “None of us knew what the fuck he was doing. Kidnapping? I didn’t sign up for that shit. He’s off the rails on this one, I’ll tell you that much.”

  “You think?” Ari was practically spitting at him. “My sister is just a kid, Trick. Nineteen years old. He kidnapped her, and you’re an accessory.”

  “I had nothing to do with it!”

  “Tell the judge.” Ari kicked him under the table, making him look at her. “Where is she, Trick?”

  The waitress was back with the coffee, taking her time filling each mug from a filmy glass coffeepot that was probably older than Ari.

  Trick wrapped his hands around the mug and took a sip. When he set it down again, he met Ari’s eyes, and she swore she saw regret there, maybe even an apology. “He didn’t tell us what he was up to. Woke me up at two in the morning with a text that he’d taken her. Said it was all part of the master plan.”

  “Where?” Ari asked.

  Trick chewed on his thumbnail, his leg bouncing beneath the table. He was about to lie, no doubt about it.

  “Trick,” she said, as calmly as she could manage. “Where did he take her?”

  Trick shrugged. “No idea. Sorry.”

  In a flash, Jared grabbed the back of Trick’s head and slammed it into the table. “Wrong answer, arsehole. Shall we try again?”

  “Fuck, man. Fuck!” Trick sat up and pressed a napkin to his now-bleeding nose.

  “Everything okay over here, gentlemen?” the waitress asked. Ari hadn’t seen her approach. Her face was pinched with annoyance, one hand on her hip, probably ready to toss them out. But one smile from Jared, and the tension evaporated.

  “Sorry about the disturbance,” he said. “Just a little disagreement between old mates. We’ve got it all sorted now.”

  The waitress sighed. “Okay. Be right back with your pie.”

  “Ace,” Jared said, still smiling.

  None of them said a word as the waitress went back to the kitchen, then returned with three slices of pie, each one topped with vanilla ice cream. She distributed the plates, plunked down a stack of napkins, then smiled at Jared. “Let me know if you need anything else, hon.”

  “Will do.” Jared glanced at her name tag. “Thank you, Maggie. The pie looks lovely.”

  Maggie finally left them alone, and Ari turned back to Trick. His nose had stopped bleeding, but he wasn’t touching the pie. Behind his eyes, Ari saw the wheels turning, but what could he say? The evidence spoke for itself, and everyone at the table knew it.

  Ari should’ve known it years earlier. Nothing they’d discovered had come as a surprise. Davidson was a bastard, and that was that.

  “Tell me what you know,” she said. “And when the shit goes down with Davidson, we’ll leave you out of it. You, Keens, and Lilah can go your own way.”

  “Not Vincent?” Trick asked.

  “You, Keens, and Lilah can go your own way,” she repeated. As far as Ari was concerned, Vincent and Davidson were the same person. And that person was going to pay for what they’d put her sister through.

  Trick shook his head. “How do I know you’re not lying? That this ain’t another setup?”

  “You don’t,” Jared said, pulling Trick in for a side-hug. “Just like we don’t know that you won’t phone your boss the moment we leave. Our relationship? It’s got to be built on trust, Tricky Dick.” Jared picked up his fork, letting his eyes trail down Trick’s torso and linger on his crotch. “Alternatively, we can render you sterile. Hell, if you keep cocking things up, you won’t even be able to have a good wank without crying.”

  Trick shut his eyes, swallowing hard. “Motherfucker.”

  “Last chance, knob head.” Jared reached across and forked Trick’s untouched apple pie, shoving in a bite. “How about an address? She’s asked you several times now. Rather politely, I might add.”

  After a beat, Trick relented. “Yeah, yeah. I got you. Fuck.”

  Ari tossed him a pen, and he scratched out an address on the back of one of the spreadsheets.

  “Manhasset?” she asked, reading it upside down.

  Trick nodded, sketching a quick map. “It’s in a two-story strip mall out on the island. Pizza joint, nail place, tax guy here, then an empty storefront with taped up windows. That’s Davidson’s place. He’s got her in the apartment upstairs.”

  Ari bit her lip, her earlier resolve wavering as she thought about Tasha, scared out of her mind. She’d managed to shove all of those fears aside today, just to get here, to get the answers that she so desperately needed. But now that she had them, images of Tasha flooded her mind—Tasha, crying. Tasha, tied to a chair, begging Davidson to let her go. Vincent, putting his hands on her…

  No.

  “Is she… okay?” Ari asked.

  “Yeah, Ari.” Trick sighed. “Far as I know. Davidson said no one touches her—his orders. He’s got Lilah staying with her most of the time.”

  Ari let out a breath. Lilah was tough as nails, but she wasn’t cruel. Vincent aside, Ari was banking on the fact that the rest of the crew felt the way Trick had felt about Davidson’s kidnapping scheme.

  Ari took the paper with the address and stuck it in her purse, making to leave. But Trick shook his head.

  “You can’t go after her, Ari,” he said. “Not now.”

  “Like hell.”

  “Listen. You two go charging in there, no backup, no plan, shit’s gonna get ugly.”

  “You said Lilah’s with her,” Ari said.

  “Doesn’t mean Davidson and Vincent ain’t showing up.” Trick scrubbed a hand over his mouth, then picked up the rest of the paperwork Ari had left on the table. “Give me a day. I’ll talk to Lilah and Keens.”

  “And then what?” Ari asked. “Ask them nicely to return my sister? Forget it.”

  Trick shook his head. “If what you’re telling me about Davison is true, maybe—”

  “I don’t have time for maybes.” Ari stood up to leave again, but this time Jared stopped her with a firm grip on her arm.

  “He’s right, Arianne,” Jared said. “We need a plan.”

  �
�I have one.” She jerked away from his grasp. “Go to Manhasset and get my sister.”

  “We don’t know who else is over there,” Jared said. “We’ve no weapons, no backup plan if things go pear-shaped. You’re upset, and you’re not thinking straight—”

  “Jared, you can’t—”

  “This is your sister’s life we’re talking about,” Jared said. “Not some piece of artwork covered by insurance. We don’t go in without a plan, and that’s that.”

  Ari opened her mouth to protest again, but then she shut it. Jared was right. They couldn’t afford to go in half-cocked. Like any hostage situation, they needed a solid extraction plan. One that didn’t involve the police.

  Ari slumped into her seat again, her eyes lasering on Trick. “You will tell them everything, Trick. Show them the proof. Because if you try to screw us on this—”

  “He won’t. Will you, mate?” Jared slapped Trick on the back a few times, driving the point home. “Trust, remember?”

  “Yeah, I fuckin’ remember.” Trick shoved Jared’s hand away. He looked over the paperwork again, shaking his head. “Wow. He’s really gonna fuck us on this.”

  “I guess this means you won’t be picking up the tab, then.” Jared pulled out his wallet and signaled for Maggie to bring the check.

  “This whole thing is fucked,” Trick said. “Totally fucked.”

  Ari rolled her eyes. “Beyond the fact that your boss threatened me, kidnapped my sister, and cut his whole crew out of the deal? You think?”

  “Yeah, but… I don’t know, man. He’s fucking with the—” Trick stopped short and looked around the diner, making sure no one was within earshot. He leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “Russians are after him.”

  Ari’s eyes snapped to Jared’s, and she knew they were both thinking about Errington’s brownstone last night, the Russian who’d shown up just as she and Jared were about to leave.

  “Why?” Ari asked.

  Trick shrugged. “He ain’t telling us shit. But Keens and I were supposed to meet him at the bar the other night, right? We roll up a few minutes early. He’s there, but his back is to the door, and he’s got three, maybe four of these goons in a booth with him. One talking that Russian shit, another guy translating. All tatted up, scary as fuck. I mean, I would not fuck with those dudes. But Davidson made some kind of deal, sounded like. He’s supposed to get something from Annandale. Been promising it for months, putting them off, trying to buy time, that kind of shit. Comrades ain’t having it, though—that much was clear.”