Enchanted: (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #8): A Fake Fiancée Romance

by Ainsley St Claire

  “I’ll talk to her. In fact, Quinn and I were just talking about heading over now.”

  “Let me know how it goes.”

  “Will do. Thank you, Henry.”

  I disconnect the call and tell Quinn what he said.

  “Let’s head over, and we can decide what to do afterward.”

  I can’t help but be disappointed that we aren’t going back to what we were doing before he called, but we have all night to explore.

  She crosses the room and gathers her purse. She’s graceful and never complains—yet another reason to really like her. As we ride down the elevator to meet Gerald at the car, I smell her perfume, and it makes my dick hard. “Should we come up with a signal for you to tell me you need some time alone with Lillian?”

  I snort. “I will definitely not need any alone time with her.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that kind of ‘alone.’ I just thought, if there was something you wanted to say, something you didn’t want me to hear.”

  She’s so cute when she’s trying to be gracious. “Thank you. If anything, I think I need you as a witness to what’s said.”

  She nods. “That’s probably smart.” She has something else to say, but we’ve arrived in the lobby, and we see Gerald waiting for us.

  Once we get situated in the car, I reach for her hand. “First, let me say thank you again for doing this. I know this is above and beyond what we agreed to.”

  She leans over and gives me the softest kiss, which makes me fall even harder for her. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and it’s almost disconcerting.

  “Second,” I continue, “the plan is to make it clear what she can and cannot do. The house is full of antiques, and she can’t sell them off.”

  As we pull up in front of the house, I smile because I see Harriett peeking out the window where she usually does when she knows I’m coming.

  The front door opens before we are both out of the car. She has a look of concern on her face. “Master William, I’m so glad you’re here. Miss Lillian has broken two vases.”

  I take a deep breath. This may not be as easy as I was hoping. “Well, that’s not good. Can you please let Lillian know that I’ll be waiting for her in the salon?”

  As we enter the house, we walk past a huge table that has been in that spot my entire life. I remember the huge bouquets of flowers my mother would decorate the table with. Today it’s covered in what looks like junk mail, several pairs of shoes beneath the table, and multiple high-end bags. It’s chaos. No wonder my dad was living mostly in Rittenhouse. I look up as Harriett disappears around the corner upstairs to the master suite. There’s another loud crash, and then I hear, “What the fuck is he doing in my house?”

  “Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to leave Gerald outside. Should we at least invite him in to remain in the foyer?” Quinn murmurs.

  “I just texted him.”

  “Great minds think alike.” She winks at me and reaches for my hand, and it oddly settles me. “I’m ready to call 911 if I need to.”

  Gerald slips into the room, taking up an unobtrusive post by the door. He nods in greeting, but before they can say anything, Lillian stalks into the room wearing silk pajamas and a silk bathrobe that flows behind her as if it was a cape. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

  “I think it was made abundantly clear that the house belongs to me. I’m the one who pays the utilities, the property taxes, and the salary for the staff. You’re welcome to stay rent free until you choose not to and live on your allowance. But there was an insurance audit two years ago of all the household items, and they must be accounted for, which means the two vases, possibly a third that you have destroyed today and anything else that may be missing is going to be withheld from your inheritance.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “I spoke with Henry after you left, and he made it clear that I could.”

  “I’ll sue you.”

  “If you can find someone who will represent you when you vandalized turn-of-the-century antiques, by all means, do.” She’s steaming, so I put it out there just so she knows. “Lillian, please, also know that should you chose to take the lump sum of your inheritance, you will immediately be evicted from the house.”

  The rage in her eyes is evident. “Fuck you.”

  “I have set up an auditor to come in and go through everything. It’s the same person who went through for the insurance claim. They’ll be here tomorrow morning at eight.”

  “You can’t do that. What about my things?”

  “They’ll be completing the inventory all week. If there is something that you feel doesn’t belong to the estate, just make a note. They certainly won’t be going after the clothes in your closet. They’re looking for the antiques that are part of this house.”

  “I won’t allow them in the house,” she sputters.

  “You have a choice, Lillian. You can live here happily for free, no property taxes, no utilities, with Harriett and Marcus to help you maintain the house, and enjoy your monthly allowance to go shopping and maybe have something left over to give your sons. I’m not pushing you out. You can stay as long as you want. Heck, if you even want to redecorate some of the rooms with your own money, I’ll have everything packed up and stored. I have no problems doing that, but let me be abundantly clear. My house. My things. My rules. It’s been that way since I was twenty-five. I’ve been kind and allowed you to live here. That will only change if you decide you’re going to be destructive. Do you understand?”

  “I’m going to fight this. Your father promised me this house.”

  I laugh because I know that isn’t the case. “I’m positive he didn’t do that given what he did with his will. But even if he did, it was never his to promise you, and no court will tell you otherwise. Sure, you can hire an attorney who will represent you for hundreds of thousands of dollars, but that is your precious inheritance that pays for that.”

  “Well, you and your sham girlfriend will find that I’m a viper and I bite. I’ll take it to the Supreme Court if I have to.”

  I can’t help myself, and I laugh out loud.

  “It’ll be a waste of money,” Quinn inserts. “Your stepson fucked my brains out this morning, and I expect that tonight we will do a repeat. You can take your sham relationship theory and go to hell. We work together, and it isn’t for public consumption that we’re dating. William may not tell you this, but I have no problems telling you that you’re behaving like a small child. Your husband died. His father died. All you care about is the money, and that’s truly sad.”

  Lillian’s mouth visibly drops open in shock. In my head, I’m pumping my fist high above my head and thinking this is a drop-the-mic moment. Lillian has underestimated Quinn, and she’s in for a rude awakening if she thinks she can go toe to toe with her. Not only is Quinn book smart, but she’s street smart, and that’ll take Lillian down about eight pegs and quick.

  “I don’t have to fucking talk to you,” Lillian retorts.

  “You’re right, you don’t have to talk to her, but you do have to talk to me. Let me be clear, tomorrow morning the auditor’s coming in and going to inventory everything. The vases you destroyed and anything else they can’t locate will be deducted from your inheritance. And as for what you broke, I really hope they weren’t one of the Ming vases that my mother had, because right there, that’s a $5 million deduction.”

  Clenching her fists at her side, she screams something inaudible and marches out of the room. This is a woman who’s definitely used to getting her own way and is absolutely beside herself, but that is not going to happen now.

  Harriett steps into the salon. “Harriett, can you grab Marcus and meet me here?”

  “Yes, Master William.” Harriett scurries off with a smile on her face.

  “That was way too much fun,” I tell Quinn.

  “I know. I’m sorry I said anything. I should have kept my mouth shut, but she was so belligerent and hateful to you,
I felt like I needed to step in and set her straight.”

  “I thought it was brilliant. Thank you.”

  Marcus and Harriett join us in the salon and stand at the door. I invite them to sit down. “Marcus, what shape are the grounds in?”

  “Very good, sir. Your mother’s hydrangeas are preparing to bloom, and I’m fertilizing with today’s watering.”

  “Good. It looks great to me. All the equipment is in good working order?”

  “Yes, sir. I have an account at the hardware store if I need anything.”

  “Wonderful. How are the cars?”

  “They’re fine. I know Miss Lillian would like a newer vehicle, but it is only two years old.”

  “I agree. Let’s hold off on buying a new car. If she wants to buy something new, she can do that with her own money.”

  A large smile erupts on his face, and I know he’s happy with that.

  Turning to Harriett, I ask, “What is the shape of the house?”

  “I will admit I do struggle to keep up. Miss Lillian is a bit of a whirling dervish.”

  “I see that. The auditors will be here tomorrow to check the inventory of the house. Is there anything you are aware of that is missing?”

  “There are a few things. I can make a note for them just in case they’ve been put away somewhere I’m not aware of.”

  “I don’t want you to feel like you are in any danger,” I stress. “So, if you feel uncomfortable, please let us know, and I’ll make sure that you have your own help and escort here at the house, but I really need you to stay here. I’ve no problems hiring a security team to join you.”

  “There’s nothing that women or her sons can do to hurt me. I know jujitsu,” she informs me.

  I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “That sounds good. I hope it doesn’t come to that though.” I look around the room and survey the house I grew up in. It would look great with a bunch of kids running around. I’m not sure where that thought came from. “You know how to reach me. Currently, I don’t have any plans to move back to Philadelphia, so I’m depending on you both to care for the house as if it was your own.”

  Harriett sits up and proudly states, “Not a problem, Master William.”

  I stand and open my arms, and both Harriett and Marcus step in and give me a hug. “I would never have made it through my teen years without you both. You’re welcome to remain here as long as you want. You’re family.”

  Harriett wipes a tear away. “Thank you, Master William.”

  I reach for Quinn’s hand, and as we walk, I tell Gerald, “I think we need to make plans to have someone here at the house tonight. Can you help me with that?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll make sure that happens. Give me two minutes.” Gerald seats us in the back of the car and then puts up the partition between the front and the back as he calls somebody. Over the intercom, he announces, “Jim Adelson has a team that will be at the house within the hour and will remain in shifts twenty-four hours a day for the next few weeks.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate it.” Turning to Quinn, I take her hand in mine. “What would you like to do for dinner?”

  “I’m very flexible. It seems everyone wants you for something. I hate to be one more in line.”

  “I think it’s me who wants something from you.” Her lips call to me—those sweet, luscious lips, all plump and pink and parted and so damn tempting. Suddenly, the only thing I want is to taste her and take her and make her mine. I lean over and kiss her. My hand wanders to her warmest spot, and I rub back and forth over her jeans. Her hips move restlessly as I touch her precious spot. Her hand glides across my chest, causing my skin to tingle beneath the thin fabric of my shirt. The casual touch sends a jolt of electricity through my entire body, spurring a host of memories from this morning. I want her hands on my skin, her lips pressed against mine, her body below, above, and against me any way she’ll have me, as many times as she wants.

  The trip to the Rittenhouse is short. Gerald has stopped the car and opened the door before I realized we’ve arrived. Quinn discreetly wipes her mouth and gets out of the car. She’s a perfect shade of crimson. Gerald winks at her, and I see her smile back.

  Taking her hand, I’m ready to race her back to our room and ravish her, but Jennifer stops me. “Are we still good for dinner tonight? Owen is bringing his girlfriend, and I thought I’d introduce you to my husband.” She turns, drawing attention to a man in his early thirties dressed in a suit with shoulder-length blond hair and a two-day-old beard and piercing blue eyes. I think he’s a good-looking guy, and I’m not sure I want him anywhere near Quinn.

  He steps forward and extends his hand. “Jefferson Mills. Nice to meet you.”

  “Great to meet you too.” Mills? I wonder if he’s related to Francis, so I ask.

  “Yes, she’s my little sister.” He smiles. “I was ahead of you and Owen by three years in school.”

  “So nice to meet you, Jefferson. We were just heading upstairs to change for dinner,” Quinn informs them.

  My cock automatically deflates. She squeezes my hand in assurance that I hope says that we’ll eventually pick up where we left off. “We had some drama with the stepmonster. I’ll tell you all about it over dinner if you’re interested.”

  “Sounds great,” Jefferson says. ”We can reminisce over some predinner drinks.”

  “Owen’s always late, but his girlfriend should be here any time,” Jennifer shares.

  Quinn rushes me off to the elevator and waves. “See you in a few.”

  The elevator door closes, and I back her into the corner and nuzzle her ear. “This isn’t how I imagined our evening going.”

  “If you think dinner gets you off the hook from being fucked hard, you’re going to be sadly disappointed.” She bites her lip, driving me crazy.

  “That’s the kind of disappointment I can live with,” I tell her.

  Chapter sixteen

  Quinn

  Jennifer turns to me and says, “Oh my gwad, you should see the crap these two pulled when they were in high school.”

  “Be nice,” Owen warns.

  “Don’t hold a thing back,” Monica interjects.

  I like Monica. She’s Owen’s girlfriend, and I have a feeling they’re more serious than we are led to believe. She’s beautiful and exotic with dark hair, dark features, and big black eyes. I particularly like that she’s wearing off-the-rack clothes from a department store and, like me, has a Kate Spade bag—nice but not over the top.

  “Owen was playing with one of the young housekeepers, and William was covering for him.” There are some protests from the guys, but they’re hardly believable. “When our mom found out, she went crazy. She made Owen apologize to her.”

  “Apologize? She did a lot more than that. She grabbed me by the ear and marched me down to housekeeping, and I had to apologize to the girl in front of all of the housekeepers,” Owen says as he rubs his ear. “She then made William and me sit in her office and lectured us on how to be respectful of women. She gave both of us condoms—which was humiliating.”

  “That’s right. We could never use those condoms either. That would have been just wrong to use condoms bought by your mom,” William reminisces.

  “I think that was her point.” Jennifer laughs.

  “Oh, no, she was very clear that she wasn’t forty yet and didn’t want to become a grandmother at such a young age,” Owen informs us.

  We are all laughing so loud that we’re distracting the other diners to the restaurant. “What happened to the housekeeper?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

  “She’s now the head of housekeeping.” Looking at Monica, he is quick to add, “She’s married with a bunch of kids too.”

  “There must be more stories,” I ask.

  “Do you remember what you guys did to Brett and Jason on their sixteenth birthday?” Jennifer asks.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” William answers in such a way that we know he recalls exactly what the
y did.

  Jennifer leans into the table and, just loud enough for the table to hear, says, “They were having a big party with all the who’s who of Philadelphia, but William and Owen were on restriction and weren’t allowed to attend the party. So they snuck into the kitchen and put chocolate-flavored laxatives in their milkshakes.”

  Both Owen and William are laughing so hard, they are almost on the floor.

  “What happened?” Jefferson asks.

  “Brett and Jason had big speeches to give to thank everyone for coming.”

  “They’d been practicing for weeks at home,” William injects.

  “Both the guys had dates—the head cheerleader from school and some other girl that was way cooler than the rest of us—and they were planning on getting laid. Brett walks to the front to make his speech and lets a huge fart go, and it got picked up by the microphone, so everyone heard it. Then Jason was laughing so hard, he blew out his pants. Not only was it an ugly sight, but it smelled bad. Needless to say, they didn’t get laid.”

  “We didn’t know that we put too much laxative in their shakes and that it would take effect so quickly.”

  “You didn’t?” I exclaim.

  “Everyone was sure it was us, but they couldn’t pin it on us since we weren’t anywhere close to the party,” Owen says, laughing.

  I look at William. “Lillian must have been super pissed.”

  “It was almost as bad as what we saw today—almost.”

  “What happened today?” Owen asks.

  William walks him through what happened, giving them the highlights.

  “Your dad was so smart,” Jefferson remarks.

  “He was. I know he loved Lillian once, but if I'm honest, he wasn’t over my mom, and he must have known she married him for the money.”

  “When’s the funeral?” Monica asks.

  “I’m not sure. My dad’s will didn’t even specify what he wanted. Of course, right now with the crash, we’re having problems getting his remains,” William says.

  I put my hand on William’s leg and rub it to console him as best as I know how. He puts his arm around me, and I know this is hurtful.