Hearts of Darkness: A Valentine's Day Bully Romance Collection

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  Chapter One

  I'd done exactly what he'd asked via his extensively detailed email. How was I to know the Head of Operations at Falco International was allergic to chocolate? I mean, peanuts and shellfish, these I can understand. Allergic to chocolate? It should be illegal or something.

  Long story short, now we had a problem on our hands. Well, let me clarify. I had a problem. My boss, Ty Falco—head honcho and prize dick—had never turned up for work once in the time I'd been his secretary. Never. Which meant it fell on me to deal with any sort of fallout. Again.

  I was situated on the top floor of the prestigious Mayfair address, and an office was left open, just in case our master deemed it necessary to be in our presence. I'd been working here at the London offices for ten months and two weeks, now. Throughout that time, Mr Falco would correspond with me via email—sometimes up to ten a day, if I was particularly lucky. Occasionally he got his other secretary to phone me. Apart from that, I'd never had contact with the man. Nada.

  That didn't mean I didn't know him, though. I was almost intimately acquainted, if you counted dealing with his many discarded women. I knew the apparent size of his manhood. I knew his blood type. And I knew he'd been stabbed with a stiletto by a psychotic ex-girlfriend, though he probably deserved it from what I heard.

  For a man who didn't actually live full time in England, he sure had enough time for sordid encounters and to get himself in the tabloids on a regular basis. His picture was splashed across the gossip pages as much as they were the business section.

  But what a photo he made.

  He never smiled, not once. But the dark, Italian good looks could take him anywhere; he opened women's legs as most people opened doors. It was simply a pity that women and discarded companies were left in his wake, waiting for the next person in line to make it all better again.

  Which was usually me. Or my American equivalent, Betty, with whom I corresponded with regularly. In fact, she sent me a beautiful bouquet for my birthday, and we chatted about her grandkids at length.

  Which brought me back to the most recent problem. The Head of Operations, Steven Macey, was now in hospital and unable to carry out the planning meeting as had been arranged. Death by chocolate had almost been a possibility for that man.

  It was now Friday at—I looked at the digital clock in the corner of the computer screen—4.45pm, and I was supposed to come up with an alternative, preferably ten minutes ago.

  Glancing over at the empty coffee pot on the table next to the filing cabinets, I longed to ignore my usual rule of no caffeine after 4pm and fill that sucker up. No such luck if I was expected to sleep the night before my wedding.

  I was getting married.

  A sliver of excitement danced across my chest. This time tomorrow, I would be Mrs Henry Walters. I couldn't help the smile which spread across my face. Who'd have thought such a whirlwind relationship could turn out so well?

  My email pinged, pulling me out of my daydreams, and I immediately saw it was from Falco. I sighed, wondering what the hell he wanted at the end of the day. I'd already ordered the fancy diamond earrings for his last conquest, at his behest earlier in the day.

  I read the email, then read it again. Not quite believing the words in front of me.

  You need to stand in for Macey as you're the only one who is up to date with the plans of the Vegas investment. Be there by 3pm.

  And there it was.

  What in the bloody world was this guy on? Be in Vegas, tomorrow? I hit reply and took my time in responding, wording it in the most neutral of tones possible.

  Mr Falco, thank you for the fantastic opportunity to be involved in the new Vegas development. Unfortunately, I have plans for the weekend. I'll arrange for a suitable replacement to arrive there for the specified time.

  Honey Webb.

  I quickly re-read it before hitting send. There. I'm sure Malcolm from Finance or June from New Developments will be able to go on short notice. They were both up to date as much as I was.

  Ten seconds later, the email pinged again, and I looked at my inbox to see another email from Falco.

  No. Change your plans.

  That was it. I'd been summoned. Well, I couldn't do it. Hello? My wedding was at 3pm tomorrow afternoon. Did he really expect me to drop everything and run? I didn't know whether to laugh or be pissed.

  His arrogance astounded me. It was convenient for him, so I had to be at his beck and call? He could bloody well jump, for all I cared.

  I hit reply and jabbed the keys in my response nice and hard, imagining it was his eyes I was poking.

  No change, sorry. I have a prior, important engagement. I'll arrange for a suitable candidate to go in Mr Macey's place.

  Honey Webb.

  As I hit send, I calmed myself down. It was simply a mis-understanding. Once he realised I couldn't travel, he'd let it go. Falco would be pissed at being turned down, but he'd get over it.

  It took a whole four minutes for the next email to ping up its arrival on my screen. I'd been sitting there, staring at my monitor, not doing any work, and expecting it to come, yet it still made me jump when the speakers burped that a new message had been received.

  "Shit," I mumbled, moving the mouse clicker to hover over the email. I hesitated for a few moments and wondered whether I should ignore it. I shook my head. No, I'm a professional. Even if my boss wasn't, it didn't mean I couldn't take the high-road.

  I clicked on it and wished I hadn't.

  Miss Webb, you're employed as my secretary. Your contract states that you will travel wherever I need you. You'll be in Las Vegas tomorrow afternoon. Travel arrangements have been made for you.

  What the fuck? How many times in the past year had I been requested to travel? Zero. Even at my interview, they said it was based at the London office and to not expect to travel.

  I'd been holed up in this building for all of this time. My only visitors were employees wishing to deal directly with me instead of Falco, or his ex-girlfriends. That was it. I wasn't high on the food chain. And I had no particular wish to be.

  I read the email again, and my ears grew hot. How the bloody hell dare he? I went to hit respond, to give him a piece of my mind, but I hesitated with my hand on the mouse.

  What if he fired me? Could I really afford to give up a job like this? My finger lifted off the mouse. It itched to click it, but the sensible side of me was talking loud. Sensible Honey was coming out to play.

  Taking my hand away, I took a few deep breaths. Calm. Everything would work itself out.

  Ravensmead Court was one of my priorities, now. I couldn't ignore the extensive costs for improving the old building. Not since it had been willed to me less than a year ago. My grandfather would turn over in his grave if I let it fall into even further ruin.

  That was my justification for eating crap from my bully boss. I needed to be smart.

  But I was so pissed off with juggling his sex life and not being given even the smallest thank you. There were a million things I could list that would have made a lesser person quit.

  I could do it. I could quit.

  Relief surged throughout me as I pondered leaving this job. Henry and I could work together in his family's wine business, and then we could be happy, and I could get away from this cold company and even colder man.

  Could I dare do it?

  I went back to my computer mouse, and I hit reply. Maybe I could. I quickly typed what was on my mind.

  No, I won't. I resign.

  I hesitated before carrying on.

  Your former girlfriend herder, Honey Webb.

  I hit send before I could chicken out and closed everything down for the evening. If he couldn't email me, he couldn't get all alpha. I was done. Finito.

  I looked at my mobile phone, noting the time. 4.55pm. Since I'd just resigned, I thought it appropriate I should skip out early on my last day. There was no way I was working my notice—not for that bastard. I'd be away for a whole week on honeymoon
in Spain, so there was nothing he could say about it anyway.

  Putting my phone in my bag, I began to gather all my things, searching through the desk drawers before shrugging on my coat. At the corner of my eye, I noticed the only photo I had on my desk.

  Leo, my son, looked back at me. I bit my lip. Was I doing the right thing, here? I'd only known Henry three short months, and everything had moved so quickly. I shook the doubts from my mind. Of course I was. We were like peas in a pod, and I couldn't be happier with the man. This was about Ty Falco, anyway. Not the dependable man I was committing my life too.

  The office phone ringing startled me, and I automatically reached for it.

  "Good afternoon. Falco—"

  "Miss Webb, you just resigned via email. Couldn't you at least have done it by phone?"

  It took a moment for me to figure out who had interrupted my greeting. Then it hit me. Ty Falco had actually picked up his phone and dialled the London office.

  Shit, shit, shit, shit.

  "I'm not sure I expect anything less of someone who turned down a possible promotion." His deep voice purred across the phone lines, and I was instantly struck at how sexy he sounded. If I was another person, I'd completely drool all over that particularly phone voice. Yes, it was the first time he'd ever deemed it important enough to speak to his secretary. I was only the person who dealt with practically his whole life, so I wasn't important. Nope.

  My stupid temper wanted a piece of the action. I tamped it down with the offer of wine in approximately two hours.

  The silence stretched, and I wondered if I was supposed to be speaking. Did he ask me a question?

  "Well, did I employ someone who can talk?"

  Whatever had been keeping me tongue-tied immediately disappeared. "Yes, I can talk. And yes, I did just resign." I paused for the briefest moment. "I'm done with your unrealistic demands." I stuck my hand on my hip, determination straightening my shoulders.

  This time, I waited for him to respond. At one point I shook the phone receiver, just in case it had stopped working.

  "I'm disappointed in you, Miss Webb."

  I rolled my eyes. I was distraught, obviously.

  "I thought you were a career woman. Focused on progressing in Falco."

  "I'm quite happy with my prospects, thank you all the same, Mr Falco. And those prospects are going elsewhere, now."

  "I'll forward you a generous bonus for the inconvenience of changing your plans. And keeping your position with us." I grit my teeth at what I'd just heard. He sounded like an automaton, telling me what he thought I would like to hear.

  "I'm sorry, my time can't be bought. My weekend and next week's holiday has been planned for six weeks. Regardless, your business issues aren't my problem any longer." Thank God.

  "And just what is so important that you'd turn down your employer for, Miss Webb?" He was getting annoyed. His Italian was more pronounced, now. A feeling of satisfaction had me smiling. The billionaire wasn't getting what he wanted. Diddums.

  "Ex-employee, if you remember? I'm actually getting married tomorrow and going on my honeymoon, not that it's any of your business." I glanced over at the wedding dress hanging on the back of the door. I'd only managed to pick it up today. Everything was so last minute, I was surprised I'd managed to arrange everything within six weeks.

  "Your wedding? Why on earth would you bother getting married, Miss Webb? You sound like a sensible woman. Why limit yourself for the rest of your life? Or are you fighting above your weight and not willing to give this sucker up?"

  I held the phone out briefly and looked at it, not quite believing he was spouting his way of life to me. It took all I had to calm my voice and speak evenly. "With all due respect, Mr Falco." I held the phone out at arms length again and gave it the middle finger, before pulling it back to my ear. "Not everyone has your... inclination... to play the field until they're so set in their ways they end up alone."

  "One is never alone when you're rich, Miss Webb." And that right there proved how much of an arrogant prick he was.

  "Of course, but not everyone is as wealthy as you are. And not everyone wants to wake up alone in the bed after mediocre sex with a stranger."

  The silence drew out between us, until at last, he spoke. "I'll try one last time." I momentarily closed my eyes, shaking my head at his determination. "You get to Vegas because I need someone I can trust, and I'll double your already very generous salary."

  "Mr—"

  "Triple."

  Triple? That was ridiculous. And maybe there was a tiny piece of me that was telling me not to be so dumb. Bite his hand off. Marriage? Sparriage. I could say my vows any time, but the money would come in very handy.

  I rubbed my forehead, not quite believing I was in this particular mess...and actually considering doing the dirty on my future husband-to-be. I pushed a strand of dirty blonde hair back behind my ear. It was too wild, and it was always escaping its constraints.

  "It's tempting, isn't it, Miss Webb?" His voice was low, sultry even, and my breath caught, stopping my brain for a moment. Jesus Christ, this man oozed sex. I shook my head, I was so stupid. "Have I just reached your price? Are you considering leaving him at the altar for me?" He lingered on his last word, and all sorts of images floated across my mind. Absolutely inappropriate considering I was an engaged woman.

  "It is tempting, Mr Falco." I lowered my voice. "If I wasn't marrying the man I love tomorrow, and you weren't a complete bastard. Goodbye and go fuck yourself."

  I hung up, not really believing I actually said that to a person I was working for not ten minutes ago. A feeling of satisfaction ran through my tired body. This was the start of the rest of my life, and everything was looking up.

  I picked up a few more of my personal belongings, stuffing as much as I could into my large, oversized shoulder bag. At the last moment, I picked up Leo's photo and kissed the glass.

  "We're going to be okay, baby." I said, smiling. "Mummy's going to work for Henry, and we're going to be a happy family."

  I rushed towards the private lift just as the phone began to ring again. I stopped, turning around to face it. I debated whether to go back or not. It was probably someone from finance, checking I'd received the weekly reports.

  Of course, it could be Ty Falco again.

  I reached out and smacked my hand on the down button. Who the hell gave him the right to call me after ten months of working for him? I wasn't important enough for him before, but because he needed me and my information on the new Vegas hotel, he was willing to try and bribe me, now?

  Well, to hell with him. I stepped into the lift and hit the Lobby button, smiling as the doors closed on my life with Ty Falco.

  Good bloody riddance.

  Chapter Two

  "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU turned him down." I turned from the mirror, where I was adding another layer of lip gloss to my already overly pink sparkly lips, and glared at my best friend. She was standing with me in one of the many bedrooms in Ravensmead Court, wearing a neon pink elasticated dress and white stilettos.

  It was a hell of a sight, but still, she looked fabulous, and it only distracted me slightly from being pissed at her.

  "What do you mean you can't believe I turned him down? Jerry, I'm getting married today." I paused, shaking my curly hair to give it a little va va voom. "Something which people keep forgetting," I said quietly.

  Jerry flicked her dark long locks, which were pouffed with lots of volume and a mass of hairspray. Her make-up was colourful and exactly the way I imagined her just six weeks ago. The eighties themed wedding which I'd fought Henry for was here in front of me.

  "And you keep saying you need the money. Mr Sex-Pants literally just offered you a fuck load of money to go to Vegas—the city of sin—and you turned him down to marry Mr Sour-Pants."

  "Seriously, Jer, I know you don't like him, but I do. He's been good to me and Leo. And I really do think we have a great future together." I spun back to the mirror and fluffed my
curls, tweaking it into the Madonna-esque style I was aiming for.

  "Well, whatever. You've made the decision now, so I hope it goes well for you." I caught her gaze in the mirror. "And you look amazing, so he better bloody appreciate you. Otherwise, he'll have me on his arse." She winked at me, her annoyed face instantly transforming into the fun loving woman I knew and loved. "Now, let me look at you, Honey-bear."

  I smiled at the nickname, taking her hand so she could twirl me.

  The white netting of the “Like a Virgin” dress flared out at the spin, and I adjusted the basque so I wouldn't lose it completely – the trouble with being a more generous woman in the boobage department.

  A knock on the door had us both looking towards it. This was it.

  And I was totally ready, right? For the first time since Henry proposed, I allowed my doubts to creep in. It had all happened so fast. The meet, the proposal, and now the wedding. All in three months.

  Three short months. My breath caught in my throat, and I looked over at Jerry, who must have seen the panic I was trying my damndest to hide.

  "Hey, sweetie. It's okay. It's probably second thoughts. It's natural." She reached over to adjust the short veil around my face before reaching down to take my white laced hands. "I'd be having second thoughts if I was getting married to him as well."

  I burst out laughing, and it finally eased some of the tension. "I'm ready for this, Jerry. I've never been more so." I teetered on my white heels, enjoying being more dressed up than I usually was.

  The knock at the door sounded again, and in unison, we both walked over to it. Jerry was walking me down the aisle in the absence of any of my family, and she tucked my arm into hers.

  "Let's do it baby." Jerry swung the door out, and it opened onto the balloons and ribbons decorating the hallway. Everything led down the long hallway to the open double doors. From there, I would walk the few feet to the small chapel at the North wing of the house. I took a deep breath before I stepped out towards my future husband.