Chase: A Secret Millionaire Romance Novel

by Violette Paradis

  “Nothing,” I say.

  “Not true. Liar.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about it with you.”

  “Why not? Scared you might find out that I’m an excellent problem-solver?”

  I roll my eyes. “Just because you read about detectives all day doesn’t make you one.”

  She lifts her chin and crosses her arms. “Try me.”

  “Fine.” I sigh. “I don’t want to leave this place.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just… I can’t go back to that world. Everyone just pushes me into whatever direction they want me to be pushed in.”

  “So? Push back.”

  “On Amber? And crush her dreams? I told her I’d get her to New York City.”

  Rita shrugs. “Give her your motorcycle. She can get there on her own, can’t she?”

  “No. I stole that motorcycle and Victor reported it to the police. The instant a cop sees a Chase-brand bike and runs the plates, they’ll pull her over and arrest her. At least if I’m on the bike, they’ll arrest me and she can get a ride with someone else.”

  Rita scrunches her face and taps her lips as she thinks. “And you don’t want to do that because…”

  “You know how angry my father will be with me? Bringing any negative press to the Chase name will piss him off because he’ll lose his precious market value.”

  Rita scrunches her face and taps her lips as she thinks. “So? Push back on him, then.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m serious. Listen, if you love Amber, you’ll do what you have to do.”

  I pause. “What if she doesn’t love who I am out there?”

  “If she loves you here, she’ll love you out there. When Penelope Pistol moved to Moscow, Nolan Hardman followed her there. The detective scene was way different but Nolan was able to adapt.”

  “Is that supposed to help me?”

  She shrugs. “All I know is that you can’t stay here forever. Maybe Marigold will stop complaining about you.”

  “Really? She complains about me? What does she say?”

  She shrugs again. “I never said she started complaining about you yet… just that maybe one day she’ll stop. We all know you’ll get on her nerves sooner or later. I mean, you have been here a long time. And you haven’t really done much lately since finishing those cupboards… unless you count flirting with Amber.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Seriously? Do you really want to start this with me?”

  “Anyway, gotta go. Bye!” Tucking her book tighter under her arm, she rushes out of the kitchen.

  “Thanks,” I mumble.

  Sighing, I look back out at the pale half-moon in the sky hanging over the forest. Only six days until Amber wants to leave. What will Amber think when I pull her into a life of constant fame? How do I prepare her for the beast that’s waiting for us? And most importantly… am I ready to face that beast again?

  ***

  A few days later, I wake up with a heavy feeling in my belly. Only two days until I promised Amber we’d leave. That’s fifty hours away. There’s so much I have to do before we leave. I have to tell her about who I am. I have to tell her that she’s going to see my face on the front of magazines. How the hell do I break this to her without sounding like a crazy person?

  Trying to distract myself from all these thoughts, I work at my station outside. I’m adding the final touches needed for my secret gift for Amber. As I wipe the sweat from my brow and look up, I see the pale waxing moon in the late afternoon sky. It’s Thursday. Less than twenty-four hours before Amber wants to leave. I haven’t even talked to Marigold yet. A part of me is putting it off because I don’t want it to happen. I don’t want to leave.

  No.

  I’m not supposed to think those thoughts. I’m supposed to want to leave. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling Amber—that I want to leave with her. But the closer our departure date is, the more I want to stay. Looking around the garden, I think about what an oasis this place has been. This secluded spot has given me peace and confidence during turbulent times. But if I stay, I know Amber wouldn’t want to stay here with me. After all, she spent the last two months doing everything she could to get out of this place. Asking her to stay goes against everything she’s been working toward. And if she knows I want to stay, she’ll be heartbroken. Would she even love a man who is too scared to face reality? Would she love that man more than the rich bachelor everyone else thinks I am? Maybe after this, she won’t love me at all. I sigh. What a mess.

  As each hour slips away, I decide I need to rip off the band-aid and tell Amber the full truth. That’s the first step.

  As I dream about my freedom, Amber steps out of the house and joins me. I snap back to reality and pull the cover over my secret project.

  “Still not letting me know what you’re working on?” She asks with a smile as she walks over to me. She’s wearing a dark blue babydoll dress and heavy eyeshadow which makes her look dark and mysterious.

  “I told you, it’s a secret.” I smirk.

  “I know, but I thought we were past the secret stage.”

  A knot of guilt pulls in my stomach. “Okay, well it’s not a secret. It’s a surprise.”

  She raises her eyebrows. “Is there a difference?”

  “Yeah, with a surprise there’s a guarantee that you get to find out eventually.”

  She smiles. “Well, then I guess I like surprises way more than I like secrets.”

  My smile wavers as the guilt grows. I really have to tell her soon.

  “I’m almost done writing my second song,” she says.

  “That’s great.”

  “I just need to figure out what the end is gonna be.” She plays with her hands.” You see, the first two parts are so good but it needs a good conclusion. Otherwise, everything else feels fake, you know?”

  I smirk. “I think I understand.”

  Biting her lip, she runs her hand through my hair.

  “It’s getting long,” she says.

  “Maybe you can give me a haircut.”

  “Or you can leave it.” She scrunches her nose. “I kind of like it.”

  “Oh you do, do you?”

  “It’s cute in a wild and crazy kind of way.”

  “So, you think I’m cute?”

  She smiles. “Just a little bit.”

  “A little bit? More like a biggy bit.”

  “A biggy bit?”

  “That’s right.” I pull her closer. I see it in your eyes.”

  Smiling, she continues combing her fingers through my unruly locks. “I can’t wait to go on a real date with you when we’re in New York City.”

  “Hanging out on the balcony upstairs isn’t a real date?”

  She laughs. “It’s not a date until wine is involved.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “You know, I can steal a bottle from Miss Marigold’s secret wine fridge.”

  “Marigold has a secret wine fridge?”

  “Yeah, I stumbled on it while looking for beer one day. Never did find that beer but I found a nice Sauvignon Blanc.”

  She snort-laughs. “Sauvignon Blanc? Where the hell did you learn that?”

  My mouth goes dry for a moment.

  “Marigold’s wine fridge,” I say. “Obviously.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  I watch her for a moment. “If I find that wine, will it be a real date?”

  She smiles. “Maybe…”

  “Maybe?”

  “As long as there’s a kiss at the end of the night.”

  “Well, that I can do…” I lean in to have one right now but she puts her hands on my chest and stops me.

  “You can’t just kiss me whenever you want!” She says coyly. “You have to butter me up first.”

  “Butter you up, huh? I can butter you up, just like a dinner roll.”

  “You expect me to kiss you after comparing me to a dinner roll?”

  “Yet you’re still
here in my arms, staring at how handsome I am.”

  She rolls her eyes as I pull her in and press my lips against her neck, inhaling the delicious scent of cherries and peaches. She doesn’t stop me this time. Instead, she lets out a soft involuntary moan as my lips move gently across her neck.

  “Shh,” I whisper against her skin. She shivers under my breath.

  “You make it difficult to be quiet,” she says in a soft voice.

  Tasting the sweetness on her neck, I breathe her in deeper. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”

  She lets out a soft laugh. “When did you get so bad?”

  I smirk against her neck. “I’ve always been bad.”

  My lips travel up to her ear.

  “Gabe?” She whispers.

  “Hmm?”

  “I lov—” She starts to say those three words but she quickly stops herself. She brings her hands to her mouth as her eyes widen. “Oh my god!”

  “What was that?” I ask. My lips form a knowing smirk.

  “Nothing.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “You love me?”

  “No! I didn’t say that. Shut up!”

  I smile widely. “You did, you love me!”

  “Excuse me.” She pulls away. “I have to go jump off a cliff now.”

  I tug on her elbow, pulling her back.

  “Come here.” I pull her against me, pushing the hair out of her eyes and holding her face in my hands. Her hazel eyes look up at me.

  “God, I hate how handsome you are. And how smug you can be!”

  “But you love me.”

  Her cheeks turn pink but she can’t stop smiling. Tilting her chin up, I pull her in for a kiss. She doesn’t resist. I let her velvet lips guide mine. Relaxing away all the tension, I let myself melt against her.

  Pulling slightly back, I smile at her.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “You don’t have to say it out loud. We both already know.”

  There’s that indignant look followed by the flare of blushing cheeks. I stare into her soft gaze and we smile at each other like we’re two drunk-in-love fools. As I’m about to lean in and taste her lips, footsteps on crunch leaves force us to pull apart.

  “Gabe!” Rita appears around the corner.

  Rita looks at us with a knowing glare.

  “Yeah?” I ask. “What do you want?”

  Although Amber is no longer pressed against me, I still feel her heat pulsing through my body. It’s distracting.

  “You have a phone call,” she says. “It’s Soph—”

  I loudly clear my throat. “Thank you, Rita.”

  Looking over at Amber, I see a concerned expression on her flushed face.

  “Who?” Amber asks.

  Rita is about to answer but I hold my hand up and order her to move along. I turn back to Amber.

  “I’ll tell you later,” I say.

  Heart pounding, I make my way to Marigold’s office. Shaking my head, I let out an angry moan. I can’t stop hiding from this anymore. Either I have to tell Amber, or someone will tell her for me. And I can’t have that. I need to be in control of this.

  I need to tell the truth.

  But how? How am I supposed to say, “Oh, who’s the woman who just called me? Just my illegitimate fiance that I’m supposed to marry on Saturday. No big deal!” I rub my face. This could only end in disaster. My mind races as I think about all the possible outcomes. Amber will be angry, disappointed, confused, betrayed… Will she even still love me if I’m a different person?

  When I arrive at Marigold’s empty office, the phone is on the desk. I pick it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Gabriel, what the fuck?” Sophie’s valley girl accent sounds clearly in my ear.

  “Nice to talk to you too, Sophie.”

  “So, this is how you greet me? After abandoning me for weeks? Ugh.”

  “How did find out where I was? Did my father tell you?”

  She laughs. “I got your location from a photographer.”

  My heart freezes. “What?”

  “Oh, don’t tell me you don’t know. You should be apologizing to me right now!”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Sophie?”

  “Don’t play games with me, Mr. Valentine.”

  I sigh. “What are the papers saying I did this time?”

  “Does making out with a tattooed woman out in the forest ring a bell? Are you trying to embarrass me?”

  “You’re seeing another woman? You’re making out with her in the forest?”

  “I was fine with you disappearing because it meant nothing would show up in the papers and I could use all sorts of tricks to make them think you’re with me… Look-alike actors and photo editing can do wonders. But THIS? I’m not cool with everyone thinking you’re cheating on me!”

  “Hold on… the magazines have pictures of me with Amber?”

  “Huh! It has a name. Who the hell is she?”

  I tense my jaw. “How did the paparazzi find me?”

  “How could you do this to me? We’re engaged!”

  “We’re not engaged,” I say through gritted teeth. “This is just a publicity stunt! We barely even know each other.”

  “Of course I know you, Mr. Valentine.”

  “Don’t call me that,” I say. “Just because you were obsessed with my mom’s movies, doesn’t mean you know me.”

  “Well, if the magazines think we’re engaged. So, if they see these pictures, they’ll think you’re a cheater.”

  I pause. “Wait… if? I thought you said the magazines already knew.”

  She sighs. “One trashy conspiracy magazine published photos of you two. The photos are blurry enough that I was able to sue the photographer and have them take the photos down. I paid him off so that he wouldn’t find you again. I make no promises though.”

  A photographer knows where I am? Crap.

  “I managed to fix the situation by having a lookalike walk to a limo with me in Monaco this morning. The paparazzi ate it up. The wedding’s back on, as far as they know.”

  I sigh as I rub my face. How did I end up in this mess? I’m in the passenger seat of my own life.

  “How long is this going to last?” I ask.

  “As long as it keeps making money. And as long as my name becomes Sophie Dawson Valentine.”

  “You know I go by the last name Chase, right?”

  “Who cares? I’ll finally be part of the Valentine dynasty!”

  “That’s never going to happen.”

  “It already is, honey.”

  I now understand why Amber said that people who call you sweet names often end up being sour.

  “I’m not playing your stupid game anymore, Sophie.”

  Her tongue clicks disapprovingly. “Well, your father doesn’t mind playing along. He seems pretty happy with the publicity.”

  “Victor is not the boss of me.”

  “He certainly seems to be. And I do too. I mean, I said you were in Monaco this morning, therefore you were in Monaco. It doesn’t take much to make those idiots believe something.”

  I shake my head. “You’re insane.”

  “Now, I want you to stop appearing outdoors with that woman. And I want you to meet me at the wedding venue on Saturday.”

  I laugh. “Absolutely not. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? You’re never getting my last name.”

  “Why not? I’ve already got your balls in my hands.”

  “Sophie— what the fuck?”

  “Don’t deny it. Unless you do something about it, I’ll squeeze you for all you’re worth.”

  “You’re insane! Find your own life. A real life. Forget about me. Pretend you never met me. Date someone else… someone who actually likes you.”

  “Nah, I’m good. Talk to you soon, Mr. Valentine.”

  The phone goes dead and I exhale sharply. How the hell did a photographer find me? Did my father give me away? It couldn’t have been Marigold or Rita. And there’s no way Amber could
have told on me… right?

  Even if I wanted to stay here, I couldn’t. My secret is out there. Frustrated, I slam my hand on the desk and regret it immediately as I cradle it against my chest.

  Fuck!

  21

  EXIT PLAN

  Amber

  Out in the backyard, I anxiously pace back and forth. Why is Gabe acting so strange? Why do I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my belly? I gnaw at my fingernails as a thousand thoughts run through my mind. Is this a repeat of my situation with Chuck? Am I being ditched out here again?

  Gabe emerges from the house. His eyes catch mine. His neck is stiff and his brow is furrowed. Uh-oh. Something’s definitely wrong.

  “Hey.” I walk up to him. “What’s going on?”

  His throat moves as he swallows. His nostrils flare as he inhales.

  “Follow me,” he says.

  “Why? Where?”

  “Just come.” Turning around, he walks into the house.

  Feeling like I won’t like what I see, I hesitantly follow him inside. He’s already heading upstairs. I silently follow him. Once we’re both inside the parlor, he closes the doors and turns to face me. I can see the distress in his expression.

  “Did you…” He pauses. “No, it’s dumb.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “Did you tell anyone about me?”

  “What?” I furrow my brow. “Who would I tell?”

  “All those times that you used the phone in Marigold’s office. Did you tell anyone about me? Did you tell anyone that I was here?”

  “Well, Chuck and Bob know that I’m here. I mean, they’re the ones who left me behind. But why would I talk to them about you?”

  He winces for a moment. “Do you think they would have told anyone about you being here?”

  I let out a short laugh. “I don’t think so. They’d rather forget about me than talk about me.” I pause. “Why? What does it matter?”

  “Do you think they’d talk about you if they were being bribed?”

  “Gabe… what’s going on?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  “Well, if it’s Chuck we’re talking about, he’d definitely take a bribe. But trust me, anyone giving money to Chuck is simply throwing it away. That guy smoked so much pot as a teenager that he can barely remember how he likes his coffee.”