The Billionaire's Claim_Redemption Read online

  She won’t even look at me. Maybe it’s a good thing—at least until I can regain some self-control. If Andy were here right now, I’d kill him. How the fuck did I never recognize what a creep he was?

  The same way everyone says, “I had no idea he was like that,” when they’re interviewed about their murderer family member, friend or neighbor.

  But didn’t I see signs? I just ignored them, coming up with excuses because I didn’t want to deal with uncomfortable truths.

  When Andy crushed bugs around the house, I brushed it off as him trying to get rid of them because Kristen didn’t like bugs.

  But didn’t you always think maybe he seemed too…gleeful?

  When he said his goldfish died, its intestines squashed, because the neighbor’s cat got to it, we all sympathized. Except he didn’t look that sad, did he?

  And I thought maybe he didn’t want to cry because that would be like a baby.

  But now I can’t help but wonder…

  I rub my forehead. “No wonder you freaked out in Hawaii.” I tried to introduce her to a man who beat and nearly raped her. A sour tang starts at the back of my throat, and I pour myself a vodka and knock it back. “You should’ve slapped me silly at the very least.”

  She finally lifts her head and looks at me. “You didn’t know.”

  “You should’ve said something.” Rage and regret knotting my gut, I look down at my hands. I would’ve used them to beat the shit out of Andy back in Hawaii…

  …if I’d only known.

  She shakes her head. “Sorry.”

  That softly spoken word plunges me deeper into the cesspool of guilt and self-recrimination, and I clench my hands, veins standing out in my forearms.

  Why would she have said anything? The first thing I did after seeing her again was tell her I’d strip her bare, humiliate her and take what mattered the most to her. What reason did I give her to turn to me for protection against a monster?

  “Don’t do that,” she says. “Don’t act like you could’ve done something. It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t want to remind you of what happened between us.”

  “What?”

  Her mouth twists into a bittersweet smile. “You thought I set you up ten years ago. What happened between me and Andy…” She shrugs, swallowing. “Well, the fact is, I set him up.”

  “Only because he was a sociopath. If he’d been a decent guy, it wouldn’t have worked.”

  She continues as though I haven’t spoken. “I just had to leave Hawaii and have Tolyan with me in L.A. He would keep me safe. He always did.”

  Every syllable is a knife plunging into me. My brain accepts what she says as logical and reasonable, given the circumstances. But my heart weeps for her pain and loneliness…and how I wasn’t the man she could turn to for protection.

  “Tolyan should’ve run Andy over a few times by now,” I say, equal parts bitter and confused. The Russian doesn’t seem the type to ignore threats or show mercy.

  “He offered that as an option, but I didn’t want it. What Andy did deserves punishment, but I can’t be the one to mete it out. That isn’t the kind of world I want.”

  “You want the world where bad guys go free?”

  “Do you know why I ran the foundation to the best of my ability, giving it one hundred and ten percent every time?”

  The answer chokes me, but I manage anyway. “You promised Shirley.”

  Liza shakes her head. “I could’ve just done an okay job, and she wouldn’t have said anything. What was most important to her was that one of the women from the family run it, not that it was doing better than other charity organizations.” She takes a breath. “I get to make the world a better place. The family I’m going to have…it’ll live in a world that’s a little bit more abundant, a little more peaceful and caring, where people don’t get brutalized. Where they don’t go hungry or uneducated and get left to live like animals. I want a world where everyone’s dignity and humanity are respected regardless of how much money and influence they have.”

  Jesus. If I didn’t already love her, this would made me fall for her so hard. “I can’t let Andy run around free. He isn’t just your problem, Liza. He’s mine too.”

  There’s no way I’m letting him hurt Liza ever again. I start to call Antoine, then pause.

  The man who dragged Liza off the resort beach. He seemed somehow familiar, although I wasn’t able to place him. Now that we aren’t pretending anymore, she can tell me and confirm my earlier suspicion.

  “Who attacked you on St. Cecilia?” I ask, my thumb hovering over the green button…even though I already know the answer.

  “Andy.”

  Hot rage floods my body. The veins in my temple and forehead start to throb, and I feel like my scalp is tightening, pressing around my skull like a vise.

  “He slipped away from the men Tolyan hired to watch him,” she explains. “Tolyan was furious and apologetic when he came to see me at the hospital, and promised to take care of Andy.”

  “Except he won’t be able to do anything satisfying because you don’t want Andy ripped to pieces.” I’ll do so much more than that the next time I see the bastard. Why isn’t Tolyan taking the matter into his own hands rather than letting Liza decide?

  “I don’t just want Andy punished. I told you I wanted them all punished—him and his parents. I asked Tolyan to gather evidence of their wrongdoings and witnesses. We only need a couple to convince other women to come forward.”

  “Do you think that’s going to be enough to put them all in jail?”

  “Andy will definitely go, and public outcry will ensure that even if Dorothy and Chuck stay out of jail, they’ll lose all their influence, which is going to be worse than death for them.”

  Liza has a point. Dorothy would rather die than be a nobody.

  “I was wrong to let it go the first time or let them live like royalty all this time. So I’m going to fix that.”

  “Then let me help,” I say, calling Antoine.

  My feelings about the Russian are secondary. I’m throwing in whatever I can to bring Andy, Dorothy and Chuck down for what they’ve done.

  Chapter Thirty

  Elizabeth

  Dinner is awkward. Not because the food is bad; the steak’s cooked to perfection—tender, flavorful and juicy. But Dominic looks at me with worry every time I pick up my knife to slice into the meat.

  “I’m okay,” I tell him again. “Really.”

  His gaze falls to the streak of reddish juice from the beef, and I suddenly realize what the problem is. “Don’t worry. Using a steak knife won’t trigger me.”

  He looks away, then after a deep inhale, swings his eyes back to mine. “You used one to fight Andy off.”

  “Yes, but he didn’t damage me to the point I can’t enjoy a nice steak, Dominic. I would never concede that much control to him.”

  The skin around his eyes tightens. “Your reaction in Hawaii—”

  “Was due to surprise and the fact that I didn’t have Tolyan with me. He wanted to come, but I vetoed the idea.” I don’t mention Andy’s pointless threat about how his parents couldn’t control him anymore. It’d only upset Dominic more.

  Dominic seems to relax, but I can sense it’s mainly for my benefit. He isn’t really buying my explanation.

  And I hate Andy more than I’ve ever hated him before for ruining what’s supposed to be a sweet moment between me and Dominic. We both admitted how we felt about each other. We should be toasting and dancing with joy, instead of eating in this tomb-like silence and awkwardness.

  After helping Dominic clean up, I go to the studio to stare at the painting. The golden dragon looks a lot like Andy. Well, figures. I modeled the beast after him. My violent side wants to splatter blood all over the dragon, but the bigger, stronger side pulls me back. I pick up my brush and add another detail next to the knight. It used to bother me that there was an empty space next to the warrior, and suddenly I know exactly what needs to go there.
r />   Someone to fight by his side. Someone who can be equal in his courage and share his sense of justice.

  My brush moves faster, more colors and shapes taking solid form. And it looks so right, so perfect. I know this is exactly how the painting’s supposed to turn out.

  I’m almost done with the addition when I hear knocking. “Yes?” I say, my eyes still on the canvas.

  Dominic walks in, then stops next to me. “That’s new.”

  Tension radiates from him, lapping at me like waves. My skin prickles, and I consciously have to ease my jaw. I came here specifically to avoid tension.

  “Dominic—”

  “I drew a bath,” he says. “We should go in before the water gets cold.”

  “I don’t need a bath.”

  “It’ll help us relax.”

  So he senses it too.

  “Please?”

  He knows I can’t refuse when he uses that dulcet voice to say “please.” I nod and leave the painting. There isn’t much left to go. The canvas is rather small anyway.

  We help each other out of our clothes. We don’t speak, but the silence is no longer uncomfortable or awkward. It’s like we’ve simply transitioned to mutual support, in which we assist without judging or blaming ourselves for the past.

  When we’re both nude, we sink into the huge tub. The water temperature’s perfect. Dominic pulls me until I’m sitting between his legs, my back pressed against his chest. His hard dick prods me. I trap it between our bodies and inhale the hot steam.

  “You put some lavender oil in the water, didn’t you?”

  “Uh-huh.” He gestures at the small purple blossoms floating on the warm water. “The actual herbs, too.”

  “You’re going to smell like a girl,” I tease, tucking my head right under his chin.

  I can feel him smile. “I’m going to smell like you.”

  “Me?”

  “You smell like vanilla and lavender. I get hard every time I get a whiff of it.”

  “Catnip for Dominic.”

  “Only if you’re wearing it. There’s something about your body chemistry that makes vanilla and lavender more potent than a bucket of Viagra.”

  I laugh.

  “It’s true.”

  He cups water and pours it over my shoulders, washing me gently. The calluses on his palms feel nice against my skin. Sighing, I relax against him. It’s impossible not to when I’m in a hot bath with the love of my life and he’s running his hands over me, massaging little knots I didn’t know I had in my muscles.

  “Are you going to give the new figure wings?” he asks.

  He isn’t being specific, but I know exactly what he’s talking about. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she’s just a mortal, flesh and blood.”

  His mouth touches the base of my neck, where my bones meet and create a bump. “She shouldn’t be standing next to the knight. She isn’t even armed.”

  “But it’s her choice to be there.”

  “Liza, we have to go back to L.A. soon.”

  “I know. We’ve been away for too long.” I hate it that our time’s coming to an end, but I know it can’t last forever, despite what Dominic and I both said before. He has a billion-dollar empire to run. I have the foundation. No matter how amazing Rhonda and Patrice are, they need me to spearhead some of the biggest fundraisers and initiatives.

  “Don’t sacrifice yourself to protect me ever again.” He nips the skin at the nape of my neck. “Promise me.”

  “Then promise you won’t do the same for me.”

  “That’s different.” I can hear a frown in his voice.

  “Why? Because I’m a woman?” I turn so I can see him. Water has spiked his impossibly long eyelashes. I can feel the indomitable will in that intense blue gaze. “So I should sit on my hands and wait for a man to solve my problems?”

  “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  “Yes, I do. You don’t want to see me hurt. You’d take a bullet for me…or worse. But Dominic, how you feel about me is a mirror of how I feel about you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have said I love you.” My voice firms. “I’ll always protect what’s mine. You can’t gain anything without being willing to risk it all. I can’t protect you—or anybody—if I’m not willing to risk my life…”

  “Liza—”

  I put a finger over his mouth. “What I’m trying to protect is important. The alternative is unimaginable.” I replace the finger with my mouth, then pull back a little to add, “You wouldn’t love me if I were some weak, simpering woman clinging to your arm and asking you to do every little thing.”

  His eyebrows twitch. A small shake of his head, then he raises his eyes to the sky, because no matter how much he wants to deny it, he knows I’m telling the truth.

  My smile starts small, then grows wider. “I love you, you know. I’m going to do everything in my power to fight for that, just the way you’ll do the same for me.”

  He wraps his arms around me. “I wish we never had to leave.”

  “I know, but we can’t stay forever. Maybe we can come back every year.”

  Then, because I don’t want to waste our time on the island with pointless wishes and regrets, I put one hand behind his neck to kiss him, and use the other to dip beneath the lavender petals and find his thick, hard shaft.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Dominic

  A small buzzing wakes me up. At first I’m disoriented in the dark. Only the sound of waves and Liza’s soft breathing fill the room.

  Then the buzzing goes off again.

  I frown and fumble on the night table by my side of the bed. It’s my phone going off.

  What time is it?

  The phone screen glows 4:28 a.m. Only three people have this number: Antoine, Brian and Kristen. But I don’t recognize the caller.

  Adrenaline spikes my bloodstream. Moving quietly to avoid waking Liza up, I take the phone to the study and shut the door before answering it. The caller’s persistent, trying over and over again.

  “Dominic King.” I take a seat at the couch and place both elbows on my knees.

  “You need to bring Lizochka home.”

  I tense at the gravelly voice of the Russian. “What the hell for?” I’m not taking Liza where Tolyan can grab her and keep her away from me. I swear the man’s worse than a dog guarding a bone.

  “Your aunt and uncle died.”

  At first I don’t understand. Then it clicks. “What?”

  “Chuck and Dorothy Brown died in a car crash. Police suspect driving under the influence. Witnesses said the couple was behaving erratically before leaving the restaurant where they had their dinner.”

  “Erratic how?”

  “Drugs,” he says tersely.

  “No way.” Dorothy and Chuck are many things, but drug users? They won’t even touch pot because they don’t want anything to come back to haunt Chuck’s career.

  “Correct. If they were users, I would’ve found out by now.” Tolyan’s cool, somber voice hints at regret. I shudder to think what he would’ve done. Didn’t Liza say his preferred mode of action is blackmail?

  “This accident is too convenient,” Tolyan continues. “Four weeks after I warned them to rein in their son, and now this?”

  “Do you think Andy has something to do with their deaths?”

  “Most definitely. The three went to dine together, but Andy left early, ostensibly to see some friends. Then his parents die, driving while impaired. It’s infuriating how the police have no idea he ought to be their number one suspect.”

  “Then why does Liza need to be in L.A.? That’s exactly where he is.”

  “It doesn’t matter where he is right now. He knows where she is.”

  “So? Aren’t you keeping an eye on him?”

  A beat of tense silence. “Not currently.”

  “Then find him. Do something, damn it.”

  He must be feeling like shit, because he isn’t telling me to fuck off.
“Can’t. My men and I lost him after he went to police headquarters to talk with the detective in charge.”

  “Can’t you trace him through his phone or something?”

  “He ditched his phone in a bathroom before leaving the station. He also isn’t using his credit or debit cards.”

  God. Tolyan’s looking at those too? That’s probably illegal, but I don’t care as long as I can keep Liza safe.

  “He’s probably using cash. He knows he’s being watched, which means he’s going to be more careful. He may be a psychopath, but he’s not stupid.”

  No, he isn’t. And he’s meticulous and organized, which is what made him such a good internal auditor.

  “He doesn’t care who gets hurt, and he has no moral compass or code. When he gets on your little island, you won’t have any place to hide. My only priority is keeping Lizochka safe, do you understand? Once she’s in L.A., I can arrange security for her.”

  The idea of her being surrounded by Tolyan’s men… But I have to keep her safe. “I’m sending the details to my head of security. You can coordinate with him.”

  “That confused Frenchman who thinks he’s British?” Tolyan snorts. “Don’t procrastinate. If you don’t bring her to L.A. in the next twenty-four hours, I’m flying out to bring her back myself.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Elizabeth

  “You know what happens to girls who don’t play nice?”

  I scramble back, my butt dragging on the cold floor.

  So much blood. So damn much blood.

  It grows sticky as it congeals, but the steak knife in my hand feels slippery, like it’s covered with oil. Blood trickles down from a corner of Andy’s mouth. It’s so wrong that a face that friendly and sweet hides an unspeakable monster inside. He sneers at me, his pale blue eyes burning.

  “They’re taught a lesson. But too steady a diet of nice girls can get dull. They just lie there like corpses. The last four were like that. I might as well have broken into a damn morgue.”

  Air catches in my throat. I have to press the panic button Tolyan gave me, or I’ll wish I were in a morgue.