The wheels screech on the ground, and the plane comes to a stop. I softly stroke Blakelyâs cheek. âPet, wake up.â
She stirs but snuggles closer to me.
I chuckle. âCome on, sweetheart. Time to wake up.â
Her eyes flutter open. It takes her a moment to realize sheâs on the plane. She sits up, claiming, âOh, I fell asleep.â
I kiss her on the lips, replying, âYeah, you were tired. We need to get going.â
She rises, and we get off the plane and into my Porsche, which is waiting on the tarmac. Itâs only four in the morning, but I canât avoid reality anymore.
We stayed in Hawaii for two weeks. Hughâs been going crazy over the phone. He even told me about the safe and the rampage he went on. He fired the security team, and since he hired them, I didnât care. I donât trust anyone on his payroll.
He had the security footage reviewed. Our techs told him it had been tampered with but they were unable to trace the source. Still, Hughâs blaming somebody from the night security.
He spent the last ten days ordering me to get into the office and continuing to ask for my location. I kept it brief, telling him via text I was dealing with personal shit. Then I stayed in Hawaii longer to piss him off. But in all reality, I was enjoying my wife more than the joy I got from angering him further. Yet the time has come to finish Hugh off. Plus, I must ensure that Blakely gets her deal signed with one of these agents.
Itâs barely five when we arrive in Malibu. I debate about taking the surfboard out for a few rides but decide against it. Thereâs too much to do today.
I shower, then go out to the kitchen.
Blakely pours a mug of coffee and hands it to me.
âThanks,â I say.
We sit down at the table, and she sips her coffee.
âOkay, pet, you have to make a decision. Which agent are you choosing?â
She groans and puts her hand over her face. âCanât you do it for me?â
âNo, weâve gone over this,â I remind her.
Iâve done everything possible to steer her toward Jack Secroy over Noah Kingsley. Both are offering the same deals at this point.
Blakely wants complete freedom over her music, so I made sure both contracts clearly state she has full control. Thereâs no doubt in my mind that Jack and Noah can take Blakely to the top. But something is telling me not to trust Noah.
It first happened when I caught him checking out Blakelyâs ass. It pissed me off. And then he had the guts to flirt with her in front of me. She was oblivious to it, but Iâm sure as hell not. And while I wonât trust any guy with her, something tells me that Jack is a better bet than Noah.
âPlease just decide for me, Riggs. Youâre better at this,â she whines.
I internally fight not to decide for her. I firmly answer, âNo. Everything you said you wanted is in these contracts, and Iâve ensured you wonât get screwed financially. But this is your career. So listen to your gut. What does it say?â
She hesitates.
I wait, my heart racing.
She finally says, âJackâs really nice, butââ
âBut what?â I question, my gut dropping.
She cringes, claiming, âHeâs a tad ruthless, donât you think?â
I grunt. âYeah. I like that about him. Whatâs wrong with ruthless? It gets you places in this industry.â
She winces again.
I repeat, âWhatâs so bad about being ruthless?â
She looks toward the window, tapping her fingers on her mug.
I take her hand and lace my fingers between hers, gently demanding, âTell me.â
She squeezes her eyes shut. She confesses, âSomething about him reminds me of my father. I donât think I can work with him.â
Itâs a bomb exploding inside me.
âOkay, but you donât have any bad feelings about Noah? Nothing in your gut is saying that maybe heâs the wrong one?â
She shakes her head. âNo, and Noahâs younger. I donât know if Jack will be alive my entire career. Wonât he be retiring in a few years?â
I canât argue with her, nor can I say it hasnât crossed my mind. But I figured weâd deal with that issue when it happened. My pet is smart. I should have guessed sheâd also be concerned about the same issue. Still, I donât like it. I stay silent, with my chest tightening.
âHe canât work forever. Right? And how old is he?â Blakely fires.
I finally admit. âNo. And youâre right. Heâs in his late sixties.â
She wrinkles her nose and cautiously declares, âIf youâre making me choose, I pick Noah.â
I clench my jaw, counting to ten.
âYou donât like my choice?â she asks worriedly.
I silently vow to have a little chat with Noah about the rules, as well as an extra clause Iâm adding to the contract. I answer, âNo. Noahâs fine. If thatâs who you think you need to work with, then thatâs what you should do.â
âBut you look upset,â she says.
I rise and lean over her. She looks up, and I see the worry in her eyes. I assert, âDonât stress about this. Iâll call Noah and give him the news. I have work to do at the office. Iâll text you when Iâm on my way home.â
âOkay.â
âWhat are you going to do all day?â I ask.
She smiles. âSing.â
I grin and kiss her again. âWrite something nice about me.â
She laughs. âMaybe I will.â
I lightly tap her head. âI gave you a lot of material on our honeymoon, didnât I?â
She laughs again. âMaybe.â
I kiss her again. âOkay, pet, I have to go. Have a good day.â
âAll right, you too.â
I leave the house and call the attorney I use for personal matters. Itâs another contact Hugh doesnât know about.
Marco booms, âRiggs!â
âI donât have a lot of time to chat, but I need a sexual harassment clause added to Blakelyâs contract. The one thatâs with Noah,â I relay.
âOkay. Has he done something?â Marco questions.
I keep it vague, replying, âNot yet, but I wonât put it past him.â
âAll right. When do you need it by?â
âThe next thirty minutes would be great.â
He groans. âJesus, Riggs.â
âCan you not get it done?â I push.
âIâll get it done. Check your email in a bit.â
âThanks.â I hang up and dial Noah.
He answers, âRiggs. I hope you have good news for me. Iâve been waiting.â
I assert, âWe have some things to discuss.â
âWhat now? I thought we got all the details worked out?â he questions.
âThereâs one quick thing that we have to discuss. It shouldnât be a big deal. If you agree, Blakely is willing to sign with you,â I inform him.
âGreat. Iâll be at the diner on 45th and 8th. Can you meet me in an hour?â he asks.
I internally groan. Itâs going to take me the entire hour to get through traffic. But I state, âSee you then.â
I fight through the smog and rush hour traffic and arrive at the popular breakfast spot. Noahâs in the back corner, sitting in a booth.
I slide in across from him.
He sticks his hand out. âRiggs.â
I take it, squeeze it hard, and shake it. âNoah.â
He pins his eyebrows together. âWhatâs going on?â
I announce, âLetâs put it this way. We both know my wifeâs probably the most beautiful woman youâre ever going to lay eyes on.â
His eyes widen. âYour wife?â
âYeah, my wife,â I firmly state.
He stutters. âO-oh. Congratulations. When did this happen?â
âA couple of weeks ago.â
He nods. âRight. So what do you want to discuss?â
I sit back in the booth. âThereâs a new contract in your inbox. Why donât you take a look? Section eighteen. My attorney just added it.â
He picks up his phone, reads the screen, then glances back at me. âWhy is there a sexual harassment get-out-of-the-contract clause in here? Iâve never done anything inappropriate with Blakely.â
âYeah, and youâre going to keep it that way,â I declare.
He crosses his arms. âRiggs. I want her for her talent. Iâm going to take her to the top.â
âYou better, or Iâll find another way to get out of this contract because thatâs where she belongs,â I warn.
He affirms, âIâll get her there.â
I grin. âGreat. Then you wonât have any issues signing that contract.â
He huffs. âYou canât be serious. Iâm not an amateur. Iâm not going to put the moves on her.â
I rise. âOnce again, it shouldnât be a problem signing it if you have no intentions of anything inappropriate happening.â I lean down into his ear. âAlso, if you ever touch her, the contract will be the last of your worries.â
He turns his head. âIs that a threat?â
âNo.â I squeeze my hand on his shoulder until he winces. I add, âItâs a solemn promise. Hands off my wife at all times. If I find out youâve touched her, all of L.A. will be searching for your body. Understand me?â
He clenches his jaw, his face turning a tad red.
âThought so.â I release his shoulder and leave the diner. I go directly to work, and when I get to our floor, I go to Hughâs personal office.
Heâs drinking scotch, pacing the office, and growls, âWhere have you been?â
âI told you I was taking care of personal business,â I calmly state.
âMy life is falling apart, and you skip town? Donât you care about our company?â he accuses.
I pretend to look concerned. âWhy? Whatâs happened with the company? Has money been stolen from our bank accounts?â
He snaps his mouth shut and spins toward the window. Then he runs his shaking hand through his hair. He quietly states, âNo, the business accounts are fine.â
I offer, âYou might want to lay off the booze. Itâs ten A.M.â
He angrily spins back to me. âDo you have any idea what Iâm going through?â
âDo you need a loan? Iâve got plenty of money if you need it,â I taunt.
His face turns purple. He spits, âThis isnât a joke, Riggs.â
I hold my hands up in the air. âNever said anything of the sort. Iâm only trying to help my partner and friend.â
He peers at me, interrogating, âWhere were you for the last two weeks?â
âSorry, but none of your business. You know my personal life is off-limits,â I remind him.
His eyes turn to slits. âThatâs convenient for you.â
âMeaning?â I challenge.
Thereâs a knock on the door. My assistant has a nervous look on her face. Her eyes dart between Hugh and me.
I ask, âWhatâs going on, Connie?â
She clears her throat. âThe CEOs from Windemere are here in the conference room.â
âIs the paperwork in order?â I question.
âYes. I sent it to you last night.â
âI reviewed it on the plane. Please tell them Iâll be right in.â
She gives me a tentative smile. âOkay, thank you.â She leaves.
I watch her walk away, then turn back to Hugh.
He finishes his drink, then states, âLetâs go.â
I step between him and the door. âNo.â
âWhat do you mean no?â
I declare, âYouâre in no state to go into that conference room.â
âThis is my company,â he claims.
I cross my arms. âItâs âThe last time I checked, I had the final say,â he throws in my face.
âSo what? Your personal lifeâs blowing up, so youâre going to blow up our company as well?â I accuse.
He scowls.
I add, âDo you think if you go in there drunk at ten in the morning, theyâll sign the paperwork, trusting their lifeâs work to us?â
Hugh squeezes his eyes shut, then rubs his forehead.
I soften my tone. âI know youâre in the shitter here, but you need to be smart. You are not going into that conference room. Now, sober up.â I shut the door and go into the meeting.
I shake hands with the CEOs. We get into all the details, and while theyâre signing the paperwork, I pull out my burner phone under the table. I send Hugh a photo of the back of Blakely in her wedding dress. Itâs one of my favorite pictures of her. Sheâs turning her head and blowing me a kiss.
I also send a message with it.
He replies with a slew of messages, but I donât look at them. I turn off my phone, slide it back into my pants pocket, and finish the meeting.
Once everything is secure, I see the clients to the elevator, then go to my office.
Hugh storms into the room, seething, âThat bastardâs at it again.â He shows me the text messages and photo.
I pretend to look shocked. âSheâs married?â
âMotherfucker,â he utters.
âYou better figure out who that is.â
âLike I donât know that. What do you think Iâve been trying to do?â he barks.
I sigh. âHugh, you need to go home. Youâre not in any shape to stay at the office. The last thing we need is business going down or the staff scared.â
He shakes his head and starts pacing in front of my window.
I reiterate, âHugh, this isnât the time to be here. Go home.â
He finally gives up and leaves.
I sit back in my chair, staring out at the L.A. skyline, thinking about how sweet revenge is when karma bites those who have it coming to them.
I pick up my phone and text Blakely.
Another text comes in from my pet. Itâs an emoji face with heart eyes.
My cock grows harder. My pet loves playtime as much as I do.
Yep, life is perfect. Nothing could ever break us.