On The Run - The Complete Series: The Elite
Page 1
On The Run
The Elite
The Complete Series
By KB Winters
Copyright © 2016 KB Winters
Published By: BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC
Copyright and Disclaimer
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 KB Winters
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Contents
On The Run - The Elite - The Complete Series
Copyright and Disclaimer
On The Run - The Elite - Book One
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
More from KB Winters
Acknowledgements
About The Author
On The Run - The Elite - Book Two
Copyright and Disclaimer
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
More from KB Winters
Acknowledgements
About The Author
On The Run - The Elite - Book Three
Copyright and Disclaimer
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
More from KB Winters
Acknowledgements
About The Author
On The Run
The Elite Series
Book 1
By KB Winters
Copyright © 2016 KB Winters
Published By: BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the brave men and women of our armed services who put their life on the line everyday to protect our freedom.
Thank you for your service.
~ KB
Chapter One
Melissa
From the outside, my life appeared as charmed as a day spent on a tropical beach where everything was blue skies, crystal clear waters, and endless sunshine. Anyone who looked at me would assume I didn’t have a single care in the world. They’d probably think my biggest problem was something like finding ways to spend all my fat stacks of cash, determining which of my three vacation homes to summer at, or where to get my weekly facial when my favorite esthetician went out of town.
You know, rich people problems.
In reality, my life was about as far away from the sun as I could have ever imagined possible. Most days were closer to the sensation of being abandoned on a glacier, slowly drifting day after day through an ice coated wasteland.
Being married to a billionaire sounded wonderful—in theory. Lavish vacations, invitations to all of the fanciest parties, and of course, the endless supply of money. But as it turned out, money really couldn’t buy happiness. And added to that list, there were a few other things that money couldn’t buy you—true love, satisfaction, fidelity, or even security.
My husband, the real estate mogul Henry O’Keefe was a force to be reckoned with in the boardroom. A hurricane packaged in a priceless Italian suit.
He’d been nothing more than a hustler selling timeshares when we’d met, and everyone, myself included, had been swept away by his charm, drive, and ambition. He’d always reminded me of a roving tiger, calculating and plotting his next meal. It was a persona that had certainly carried him…us…a long way over the years.
Unfortunately, over time, that hungry tiger had taken over more and more of the man I’d married, and seven years later, I could no longer see the difference between Henry the business man, and Henry the husband and father, the man I fell in love with.
He’d taken the real estate world by storm, conquering coastal California towns one by one and turning them into thriving resorts that made millions in profit every year. Each development was grander than the last and it seemed as though each one took a bigger piece of his soul.
His appetite had recently led him down the coast to a small town called Holiday Cove and the project had consumed him for the past six months. I didn’t have the faintest clue of the details. I didn’t care. All I knew was that the man I’d fallen in love with, married, and had a son with, was gone.
And I was done waiting for him to come back to me.
* * * *
“Good morning, George,” I greeted, my heels clicking on the hand laid paver stones leading from the hulking Pacific Palisades mansion to the circular driveway where a sleek, black SUV with tinted windows and bulletproof siding was waiting for me. George Giabaldi, our most trusted driver, was waiting at the back door, pulling it open as I approached.
He tipped his hat and offered a smile. “Good morning, Mrs. O’Keefe.”
I smiled through my inward cringe at the title I so desperately wanted to shake off. “Thank you.”
Once I was safely tucked in the backseat, George closed the door softly, and hustled around to the driver’s side. “Where can I take you this morning, ma’am?”
“The Redwood Plaza, please. I have a doctor’s appointment.”
George nodded. “Of course, ma’am.”
We set off and I stared out the dark window, each breath deliberate and slow. I couldn’t let George see how unnerved I was. On the outside, I was a calm, cool lake of tranquility. My chestnut hair was pulled back into a sleek chignon, diamond studs adorned my earlobes, my makeup clean and polished to perfection, and my smile soft as though there wasn’t even a hint of something out of the ordinary about the routine task.
However, inside my head…nothing was settled or calm. Every thought was jarring, like a shout, and my heart was thudding against my chest in such a frantic pace, like a wild beast trying to break free of a trap. My palms were coated with sweat and I kept them folded on my lap to keep them from shaking so badly that George would notice if he glanced in the rear view mirror.
By the time George pulled up in front of the sprawling Redwood Plaza, a c
omplex of professional offices in the heart of the city, I’d managed to talk myself down from the ledge. I was going through with the plan. It was no longer optional. Things were in motion that would be difficult to undo and if I kept second guessing myself, I was going to make a mistake.
One that could prove to be fatal.
“Thank you, George,” I said, exiting the car as he came around to open the back door for me. I smoothed the back of my heather grey pencil skirt as I stood on the sidewalk. “I shouldn’t be long. Would you please wait nearby?”
George tipped his hat. “Of course, ma’am.”
George was a middle-aged man, probably in his early fifties, and was one of the friendliest people that Henry kept on staff to tend to us and our estate. We had a full security team, a horde of house cleaners, landscapers, and even our own event planner who’d drop everything to set up functions if Henry or I called on her. Most of the people in our employ were aloof and kept to themselves—I was sure that was Henry’s doing. He wanted me to feel as alone as possible. Anyone who was too chatty was quickly dismissed and replaced immediately. George was always kind but made sure to never ask too many questions that went beyond the border of his job description. But, as my driver, he knew more about my life than anyone else on staff.
However, as he was Henry’s hire, I knew that I couldn’t drop my guard and confide in him of my true whereabouts and plans. Which, was why I’d selected an attorney that was conveniently located in the same office complex as my longtime doctor. That way, the visits could be chalked up to medical and would never raise an eyebrow. As far as I knew Henry didn’t even know I’d visited the doctor six times in the past three months. If he did, he hadn’t bothered to ask about my wellbeing.
But that was par for the course.
I pushed it all aside, and poured my concentration into taking quick, confident strides into the main set of doors to the largest of the group of buildings, not looking back as George pulled away from the curb and drove off to wait for my text message when I was ready to be picked up again. Inside, a shiver crept up my spine, and it had nothing to do with the blast of air conditioning.
This is the right decision. The only decision, I reminded myself, looping the words through my mind like a cadence as I approached the elevators.
My doctor’s office was on the third floor. Dr. Honey. But I soared past the third floor, not stopping until I arrived on the twelfth floor. No one was in the corridor and I released a slow, shaky breath on my way to the frosted glass door with the silver placard to one side that read:
Matthew Hart
Attorney at Law
The sign didn’t specify the details of Matthew’s practice, but his name garnered recognition as one of the top notch divorce attorneys in the area. Which is exactly what I’d need if I had a snowball’s chance in hell of getting away from Henry.
“Good morning, Mrs. O’Keefe,” Susie, Matthew’s receptionist called out to me as I stepped inside the small office. Matthew was an excellent lawyer, in a wealthy city, but didn’t seem to be much for flash and sparkle. A trait that I appreciated. I’d had enough flash and sparkle to last me a lifetime.
“Hi, Susie. I’m a little early,” I said, stepping up to the smooth marble counter that concealed Susie’s desk.
She smiled up at me. “Not a problem. I’ll let Mr. Hart know you’re here.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at her and then made my way to one of two overstuffed chairs arranged on either side of a round coffee table. I ignored the magazines laid out along the top. I had no interest in celebrity scandals, gluten-free carrot muffin recipes, or the latest and greatest that the car world had to offer. Clearly, Mr. Hart’s clients fell into three succinct categories.
“Melissa.”
I snapped up at Matthew’s voice and stood from the chair that I’d been perched on. “Hello, Mr. Hart.”
He gave me a lopsided grin. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Matt?”
I returned his smile and followed after him as he passed by Susie’s desk. He took me into his office and waved at one of the wingback chairs while he rounded the walnut desk that dominated the space and sat down behind it. A large manila envelope placed in the center of his desk caught my attention as I sank down into the offered seat. Matt caught my gaze and cleared his throat. “I know it’s difficult for you right now, but how are you feeling about everything?”
I brought my eyes back to Matt’s and drew in a slow breath, processing his question. It was simple enough in nature, but considering the circumstances, I struggled to find the right answer. There wasn’t a way to sum up the hell and chaos that had been ravaging my mind and body over the past weeks.
“It’s a lot…” he said softly. Matt was anything but the stereotypical divorce attorney. He saw me as a person, a bleeding heart, not just another client or cushy paycheck.
A flicker of a laugh escaped my lips. “Yes. It’s a lot. But I’m sure. I’m ready.”
Matt nodded but his expression shifted, something dark forming behind his eyes as he glanced down at the envelope before him. “Well before we get started, there’s something I need to share with you…”
My heart screeched to a sudden stop inside my chest. Had Henry figured out what I was doing? Had he called Matt and threatened him? Was all of my careful planning going to be for nothing?
Matt peeled open the flap on the envelope and slid out the contents, three glossy black and white photographs. He laid them out for me. “Do you recognize this man?”
I leaned forward in my chair to study the picture and when a flash of recognition went off in my head, a wave of nausea rolled through my stomach. “His name is Val…he’s part of Henry’s security team.” I pressed my eyes shut, no longer wanting to look at the images. Or think about what they might mean. “He was here?”
“Yes. Two days ago.”
I forced my eyes open again and stared at Matt. “What did he want?”
Matt put the pictures back in the envelope, as though he could sense that I didn’t want to see them anymore. “He came in asking why you were here two weeks ago. I don’t know how he found out you’d been here. Didn’t you tell me that you were using the cover of going to see your doctor?”
I nodded. “Shit…”
“Well, not to worry, Susie was a real stickler. She neither confirmed or denied that you’d been here. Which, as you might expect, didn’t go over well with this Val character…but she stood firm.”
I made a mental note to bring her a gift of thanks on my next visit.
If there would be another visit.
“Okay.” I ran my fingers over my ear and blinked twice to clear the raging fear swelling in my chest. “So, what do we do now?”
Matt studied me for a moment. “That’s entirely up to you, Melissa. I have the paperwork drawn up. All I need is your signatures and then I can send someone out to serve Henry at any time. But I wanted you to have this information before you made that call.”
I tipped my chin and stared down at my shaking fingers. I’d been planning my escape for so long, and yet standing on the threshold, looking at the glimmer on the other side, a deep rooted terror tugged me back. A terror made even darker knowing that Henry knew I’d been visiting a divorce attorney. Having the element of surprise had been a critical part of my plan—it appeared that was now gone.
Which meant I only had one choice.
“Where do I sign?”
Chapter Two
Melissa
“Mom, are there any fruit snacks?” Jackson, my five-year-old son asked, pulling me from the checklist I’d been running through in my mind while standing at the kitchen sink.
I turned at his little voice and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. Jackson was my whole life. My sanity. “You’re in luck. Gilly just got back from the supermarket. Check the pantry, sweetheart.”
Jackson smiled and scampered off in search of his favorite treat. I watched him go skidding into the walk-in butler
’s pantry and then turned back to look out the window over the sink. The view of the pool area was serene and peaceful. Watching the sway of the fruit trees and ferns Henry’s landscape crew had planted years ago, when we’d—well, he’d—first purchased the home was a comforting distraction.
“Mom? When is dad coming home?” Jackson asked, coming out of the pantry with a pack of fruit snacks in each hand. He shifted his blue eyes to mine and a ball of emotion lodged in my throat.
Matt had assured me that he’d fight like hell to get me sole custody of Jackson, but I knew the reality of the situation we’d be up against. And it wasn’t pretty. If Matt was a piranha, then Henry’s legal team were great white sharks. The only chance I’d have in getting custody of Jackson was if I made a back alley deal with Henry and turned down an alimony settlement.
Since we’d married before Henry had come into his fortune, we didn’t have a prenuptial agreement in place, so in the event of a divorce, Henry would legally be on the hook for up to fifty percent of his billions. If I turned that down, and walked away with nothing but child support, there was a chance Henry would sign over custody.
It would be a hail Mary, but it was my only shot.
“I’m not sure, sweetheart. Why don’t you go watch a show while I finish getting dinner ready?” I suggested. “Also, Jackson, let’s put one of these back, okay? You don’t need two so close to dinner time.”
He held out one of the brightly colored packs. “This one was for you, Mom.”
“Thank you, my sweet boy.” Tears stung my eyes and I swallowed hard to keep myself from crumbling right there on the kitchen floor. I wrapped Jackson into a tight embrace before he wriggled away. “I’ll call you for dinner,” I said as he ran out of the kitchen, giggling.
Alone in the quiet kitchen, I asked myself the same question my son had asked minutes ago. When was Henry coming home? I never knew when to expect him. Or if to expect him. He worked all hours of the day, all days of the week, and rarely took weekends or holidays off. He was always up to something. And when he wasn’t working, he was off with one of his whores. His cheating ways had never been much of a secret. As a relatively young, attractive billionaire on the rise in the City of Angels, he’d been featured on more than a few gossip magazines. The scandalous photos were always the same. He’d be in some candid shot taken in a flashy club, with his arm around some scantily clad woman who looked like she’d just slid off a pole and into his lap.