Worth Any Cost

by Brenna Aubrey

  Worth Any Cost

  A Gaming the System Novel

  Brenna Aubrey

  This one is for the fur-babies, my cuddle-buddies who would much rather I throw toys than type on my keyboard all day.

  You are cordially invited to the wedding of the decade.

  Adam Drake and Emilia Kimberly Strong have chosen a date to solidify their love in the bonds of matrimony.

  Join them on their exotic destination wedding. Visit with their friends and loved ones. But hold the champagne toast. Fate has a few last tests for our couple on their way to the altar.

  Natural 20 or natural disaster?

  The Gaming The System series

  At Any Price (Adam and Mia part 1) (click to download) At Any Turn (Adam and Mia part 2) (click to purchase) At Any Moment (Adam and Mia part 3) (click to purchase) For The Win (Jordan and April) (click to purchase) For The One (William and Jenna) (click to purchase) Worth Any Cost (Adam and Mia part 4) (this book)

  For The Taking (Katya and Lucas)(forthcoming in 2017)

  Chapter 1

  Adam

  Running a company on other side of the Pacific Ocean from headquarters via email, texts and laggy video chats was no easy feat. Even for someone who viewed a smart phone as an artificial appendage. What made it even more difficult was a pronounced lack of sleep.

  In fact, I hadn't had a decent night's sleep in almost a week. And I was sure that until I landed in LA in ten hours, I wouldn't have another one. The fast-paced, exhausting tour through Beijing, Shenzen, and Shanghai ended in Tokyo, with me waiting for the next leg of the long trek home. But Draco Multimedia Entertainment's prospects in Asia already looked wider and brighter. So the trip had not been for nothing.

  From my table in the first-class lounge at the Haneda airport in Tokyo, I sent off a flurry of emails and text messages while my hot breakfast grew cold. Jordan Fawkes, my CFO, sat across from me, drowning his eggs in ketchup while complaining there was no salsa, his preferred condiment for eggs. How unfortunate there wasn't some kind of law in Japan against smothering your eggs in condiments.

  "China sure was a trip," Jordan said after he chewed and swallowed his eggs, cutting into some sausage. "I gotta take April back there someday so I can enjoy it without doing the eleven-cities-in-ten-days tour on crack. I didn't even get to see the damn Great Wall."

  Fighting a grin, I polished off my text message. "Maybe for your honeymoon."

  His glare over the rim of his coffee cup made it harder to contain the smile. "Don't drag all of us down with you, Mr. Groom-to-be."

  I raised my brows. "Still not sure April's the one?"

  He shrugged stiffly. "It's not that at all. I'm in no hurry to make it official. What's the rush? She isn't, either. She's still finishing up graduate school. Why ruin a good thing with marriage?"

  Stabbing at my eggs, I fought a grimace, but managed to fake a yawn. "God, you're so predictable."

  "So are you...I don't think you've put that phone down since we left Shanghai."

  "I have a company to run," I muttered through my teeth after forking a bite in and swallowing. The entire time, my phone buzzed at me.

  "Seems like you're just mumbling obscenities and complaining about stack overflow--whatever the hell that is."

  "It's a very serious IT problem. And if we don't get a handle on it, we're going to have even more problems." I sighed.

  Jordan frowned. "Then let Al handle it. He is our IT director." I glanced at Jordan out of the corner of my eyes before sitting back and setting the phone aside. "What's that look for? Is he not handling it? Do I need to break a few fingers?"

  Shrugging, I rubbed the back of my neck. "He's got issues..." What more could I say without breaking the man's confidence? His wife had recently left him, and he'd been slowly falling apart. He'd asked for understanding, and I'd given it to him. But how to explain that without revealing the private details to my CFO?

  Jordan sipped again at his coffee. "Then he needs to sort them out and start working as hard as the rest of us do, dammit."

  "It's my purview. I'll handle it," I reassured him.

  "If this starts hurting our bottom line, then it's my purview, too."

  I frowned. "Back off and give me a chance to assess the situation once we get back. I'll keep you posted. Besides, how can you solve the problem when you don't even understand it?"

  He shrugged. "I'll leave that to the nerds. Let me know when you want your bank account balanced." Jordan took another sip and swirled the dark liquid in his half-empty cup. Something was on his mind, and I wondered if I should put the poor bastard out of his misery or make him work for whatever he wanted to say. I decided to make him sweat a bit--always fun to keep him on his toes.

  "So...getting excited for the wedding?" he asked.

  Wow, he was hardly bringing it. I expected more from the charmer who was ninety-nine percent responsible for our company's extremely successful bid to go public.

  "Out with it, Jordan. The beating around the bush and small talk is annoying."

  His brows twitched. "Sometimes I forget I'm not schmoozing an investor or something." He rubbed his neck self-consciously. "Just thinking about that big board meeting we have coming up."

  I swallowed another mouthful of eggs and bit into my bacon. "Yeah? What's got you nervous about that?"

  "Well, I got to talking with David not long before we left..."

  I drank the last of my water in an attempt to curb the dehydration from the previous flight. "Ah? What did the father-in-law want?" I teased.

  April and Jordan might not be married yet, but he was in the unenviable position of being romantically linked with the daughter of the chairman of our board of directors. It was a constant song and dance with her dad, still an uneasy relationship, even a year later. I got the impression that David Weiss still only tolerated Jordan even though Jordan and April were quite happy together.

  David was the protective type with his daughter. Couldn't say I blamed him. In the unlikely event I ever had a daughter, heaven help any man who even looked at her funny. Fortunately for Jordan--and for the company--it all seemed to be going well so far, despite the uneasiness.

  Jordan grinned and leaned back in his chair. "It wasn't anything to do with April. I think he's finally accepting the fact that he's not getting rid of me without a fight. And that I make his daughter happy--most of the time."

  "Then what's got you all keyed up?"

  He wiped his nose with a napkin, grumbling about the cold he'd picked up while traveling. Shaking his head, he admitted, "I'm not keyed up. David and I were, uh, talking about someone else."

  "Oh?" I picked up my glass and swirled my ice again, impatient for a refill. Checking my watch, I saw that we still had another hour before boarding our connection to LAX.

  "Friend of mine who's getting married soon," Jordan said. "We were discussing the merits of prenuptial agreements."

  On the way to my mouth, the glass froze midair. Jordan watched me closely as he folded and unfolded the napkin on the table with his free hand.

  "You two draw straws for this?" I asked, calmly setting down the drink.

  "Rock, paper, scissors."

  "Ah. You always did have the shittiest luck." I rubbed my jaw and looked away.

  After a few awkward beats of silence, Jordan shifted in his chair and cleared his throat. "Have you...you know... Are you planning to...?"

  A tight shrug lifted one shoulder, body stiffening. I had no desire to talk about this with him. "No offense, bro, but it's not really any of your business." My mild words contradicted the strange heat warming under my collar. I'd long since shucked my jacket and tie and would be changing into something more comfortable before getting on the plane.

  "Yeah...so that's w
hy I brought up the board meeting." He coughed into a fist.

  My brows twitched. "Don't even joke about that. It's not going to be discussed at the board meeting." Jordan said nothing. After a minute of silence, my eyes left my plate to look at his face. He was dead serious. "What--there's no way in hell I'm discussing my private life and my personal finances with the board. Don't even go there."

  Jordan grimaced. "Adam, you can't fuck around with this stuff. This is business, and we aren't some tiny startup anymore. We're a publically traded company worth billions." His voice lowered as he glanced around the lounge as if wary of any eavesdroppers. "You, yourself, are worth billions. You need a prenup."

  I scowled. "I don't need a prenup. Those are only for people who get divorced."

  "And you know for sure you won't? You're prescient and your genius brain powers reach forward even into the future?" he asked drily.

  "Maybe they do." I shrugged. It was ridiculous, but I was willing to say anything to shut down this subject. The sooner, the better.

  Jordan leaned forward, resting his weight on his elbows. "I'm not fucking around, okay? I give you shit because it's fun, and I know you two have been through hell and back. I know how you feel about her and how she feels about you now. But--"

  "No buts," I growled between clenched teeth. "We aren't getting a divorce."

  "You can't predict something like that, and you know that goddamn well. More importantly, you know that California is a community property state. She could--"

  "She won't," I said. "And asking her to sign a prenup means that I think that she might try." Or worse, that I expected the marriage to fail.

  "Okay, so...the thing is this. Financially speaking, it's not just a marriage between Adam and Mia. It's you, her, and the company. You aren't simply making decisions for the two of you anymore. If you two divorce, half of your sizeable share of Draco becomes hers."

  I blew out a breath and rolled my eyes. "That's a risk I'm willing to take."

  "It's not a risk the board is willing to take." He shook his head. "And they are calling the shots these days."

  I blinked. "I have controlling interest in this company. With the officers, we could override any board directive."

  Jordan fell silent, now eluding my gaze. I could tell by the uneasy way he shifted in his seat that he avoided pointing out the obvious. He stalled, picking up his empty glass, taking in an ice cube, and crunching it noisily. Finally, he settled back and ran a hand through his hair.

  "Enough with the bullshit. You aren't planning to back me on this, are you?" I asked in a dead voice, trying and failing to disguise my mounting irritation.

  "It's your fiduciary duty, Adam. To the company."

  "What about my duty to her?"

  He sat back. "The board of directors has no say over your personal life--"

  I leaned forward, placing an elbow on the table, tension filling every muscle in that arm. "Aside from the fact that they want me to force my future wife to sign papers and attest that she's not a gold digger."

  He shifted again, clearly as annoyed by this conversation as I was. "I understand where you are coming from--"

  "Do you? Do you really?" I leaned forward. "So you're having April sign one of these things when you tie the knot?"

  His hand went up. "Whoa, slow down there, buckaroo." He gestured to himself. "No one over here is stupid enough to be tying any knots anytime soon."

  I replied by flipping him the bird, and he looked away, laughing. "Bro, listen, okay? I don't want you to be blindsided in the BOD meeting. This will give you a chance to mull it over. They are in a position to force the issue, you know. They can remove you as CEO. Steve Jobs--"

  Heat burned up my spine, flushing my face. I placed a closed fist on the table between us. "And you know goddamn well what happened to Apple when they did that. If our BOD wants to sabotage this company, then let them go right ahead."

  Jordan stiffened, making a placating gesture. "No one is threatening anything. I'm doing my duty as your friend and as your CFO to warn you about what could happen in such an event, okay? They could pressure you to do this, and if you refuse, they could claim breach of fiduciary duty." He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "Please. I'm begging you not to let your legendary stubbornness turn this into a clusterfuck."

  My fist tightened. "I am not going to risk my relationship with Emilia over this. She is more important to me than a hundred boards of directors. This company can go fuck itself if it comes to that."

  Jordan's brow creased, and we were given a momentary reprieve from the awkwardness when our waiter finally showed up to refill our water glasses. I looked down at the cold food, now completely uninterested in eating.

  Nevertheless, we continued our meal in silence with a thick side of tension. Then Jordan coughed into a fist without taking his eyes off his plate.

  "You know, it's really not that bad...if you think of it like an insurance policy."

  Chewing my food, I glowered at the table top without responding.

  "I know what you're thinking."

  The food almost stuck in my throat. "You have no idea what I'm thinking."

  He sighed. "Okay, fair enough. I know what I'd be thinking in your place, then."

  "And what's that?"

  He laid his fork down beside his plate to gesture with an empty hand as he spoke. He reminded me of a commentator on an infomercial, blithely trying to sell me something. "That signing a prenup is like planning on getting divorced--planning for the worst. But here's a different way to spin it--"

  "Why am I spinning it?"

  He waved me off. "Down, boy. I'm just saying it's an insurance policy. No one plans on getting divorced when they are young and in love and newly married. I know you're not planning on it. She'd know that, too. But you also don't buy home insurance expecting to lose your house in a fire or an 8.0 earthquake, either. You don't buy car insurance expecting a semi to--"

  I held up a hand to stave off the litany. "All right, all right. I get it." Maybe he had a point, but this was different. This was us, Emilia and me--our relationship, our trust, our future laid bare to be examined, defined, and documented by lawyers. What would she think if I were to plunk a contract down in front of her and ask her to sign it? She'd be insulted as hell.

  And I wouldn't blame her.

  While I could tell her that the board was forcing me to do it, why would I? It was worth fighting for. I was going to be her husband, after all. Standing up for her was my job. Protecting her was my job. So, like with any job placed before me, I'd do it--to two hundred percent of my ability.

  The trip home was long, and exhausting. I spent the majority of the flight working, handling the pile of work stacked on my plate. But distraction gnawed at me every time I thought of home.

  An even bigger pile of work surely waited for me there, but Emilia was the one filling my thoughts. I hadn't spent this much time away from her since we'd gotten engaged. And I missed her, goddamn it. The smell of her hair. The feel of her skin. The sound of her voice--even when she was teasing me about whatever latest joke was going back and forth between us.

  After ten days of staring at Jordan's mug, I was done. I wanted Emilia.

  Due to a cold he'd caught during our trip, he was now snoring in the pod next to me on the plane. I prayed I hadn't caught his germs. Great souvenir for him to take back to April. She'd be thrilled about that.

  We touched down at five a.m. A little after six, my driver dropped me at my front door. Hopefully, Emilia would be sleeping. She was on summer break now, but still working hard in the lab with research and study as she prepared for the start of her second year at medical school. Despite that, she remained a devoted night owl, and it was Saturday morning.

  Envisioning her asleep in bed was enough to make me rush upstairs, anxious to catch a catnap to stave off my gnawing fatigue. Fortunately, she wasn't a light sleeper, so she didn't wake up when I entered our room, shedding my clothes as I went. By the time I
reached the foot of the bed, I was in my underwear and ready to dive into the sheets.

  But I had to pause to take her in...at the sight of her, my chest tightened, and my lungs couldn't draw enough air. Her lithe form curled in on itself. And though she was tall, she appeared small in our huge bed, her long, dark hair splayed across the white pillow. She lay on her side, her back to my side of the bed. Perfect.

  I slid into bed next to her and curved my body around hers, pulling her flush to me so that we were spooning. With a sigh, she settled against me, and that warm feeling flared in my chest. I buried my nose in her silky hair, and my entire body stirred. If I weren't so exhausted, I would have tried something then. But the pull of twenty hours without sleep was strong. I nodded off instead.

  When I woke up hours later, she tiptoed through the room, obviously trying her best to not wake me. Her hair was still messy, her eyes sleepy. The clock read ten minutes after eight. She must have just gotten out of bed.

  In that short t-shirt that showed off her stunning legs, she appeared nothing less than delectable. Good enough to eat, and given my raging hard-on, my body agreed. I rolled onto my back and heaved a sigh as she dug out some items from her nightstand drawer.

  "Come here," I mumbled.

  She jerked her head in my direction, eyes wide. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?"

  "No. Come here."

  "Well, good morning to you, too." She slowly approached the bed. "I was going to hop in the shower and then make a bunch of noise to wake you up so I could attack you. When did you get in?"

  "Two hours ago. I got no sleep on the flight." I stretched my arms above my head, yawning.

  "Crap, you must be exhausted." She sat down on the edge of the bed, beyond my reach, and grabbed my hand, lacing her fingers with mine. "You should go back to sleep." My fingers closed around hers, trapping them.

  "Hell no." I tugged on her hand to pull her toward me. As I did, my arm nudged a hard lump in the bedsheets. I craned my head for a closer look. It was a balled-up shirt nestled among the pillows on her side of the bed.

  "What's that?"

  She reached for it, blushing, but I was quicker, snatching it up. It was one of my shirts that she'd tucked up into a ball. In fact, it was the shirt I'd worn the day before I left for China.