The Seduction 2 (8 page)

How Ashcroft would destroy him, take
everything from us and never look back.

I force myself to keep reading, filling in
the blanks of what I already know. They started out together.
College buddies, setting up shop on their own. They brought in a
third partner with the cash, and soon, they expanded. Cargo,
shipping -- if you had it, they’d move it.

I was just a kid when Ashcroft cut him out.
I don’t know what happened, hell, even my dad couldn’t figure it
out, but I remember shit getting bad at work. He’d come home late,
stressed, drinking too much. They were on the verge of some big
deal, that’s what he said, and he got paranoid that Ashcroft was
going behind his back. Plotting to remove him from the partnership
before the deal went through.

My mom thought he was crazy. She reassured
him, Ashcroft would never betray him like that. They’d been working
together for years, they were friends. The man was my godfather,
for Christ’s sake.

She was wrong.

It was some legal bullshit maneuver, my dad
never saw it coming. One day, he was co-president of a booming
company. The next, he was out on his ass with nothing.

It destroyed him -- not just losing
everything, but that Ashcroft was the one who did it.

Yeah, that bastard was ruthless. Reading the
reports, I can see it all in black and white. The other partner
disappeared a couple of years later -- sent to prison on some
bullshit tax evasion charge. Ashcroft’s plotting too, I’ll bet.
Ashcroft took sole control of the company, got married, adopted
some kids. Acted like my father had never existed.

But dad couldn’t go on. Three months after
Ashcroft pushed him out, he put a shotgun in his mouth and pulled
the trigger.

I grab the whiskey and take another gulp. I
was only eight years old, too young to follow the details, but I
understood what had happened. My father had been betrayed. I swore
I’d find some way to make Ashcroft pay.

But the bastard is dead now, and all the
obituaries are fawning over what a great guy he was. A
humanitarian, all that charity work. Even Keely thinks her client
was a sweet old man.

I know the truth. That guy was a fucking
monster. And now I’ll never have my revenge.

My cellphone rings again. I snatch it up,
expecting Keely’s voice.

“Hello, Mr. Vaughn? It’s Carter Abrams.”

“Who the fuck?” I grow, pissed.

“From Hudgens, Cartwright and Abrams,” he
explains.

I remember him, the creepy fuck from Keely’s
office -- the one who treated her like shit.

“What do you want?” I stride to the windows,
looking out at the city lights.

“I was calling because we’re investigating
one of our former staff members.” His voice is smarmy as fuck.
“Unfortunately, we’ve learned she was involved in an inappropriate
relationship with a client. I wanted to make sure she hadn’t made
similar advances to you. I believe you met with her last week.
Keely Fawes?”

I tense. So this is what Keely was so
panicked about the other day. Her fuckwad of a boss is on some
witch-hunt. Well, damn if I’m going to help.

“No,” I say. I was the one who chased her
down. “She never did a thing wrong. Put me down as saying, she’s
been nothing but professional.”

“Oh.” Carter sounds surprised. “That’s...
interesting. I thought you two had become very close.”

“Yeah, well you thought wrong.” I wish he
was right here in front of me, then my fists would show him how
fucking wrong he is. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at
with this, but it’s bullshit, we both know. Keely wouldn’t do
anything wrong.”

Except come her brains out all over my
tongue in the middle of the company law library.

“If you’re sure there’s nothing we need to
know...” Carter presses me again.

“I’m sure.”

“Thanks for your time.” Carter sounds
pissed. “I hope we see you--”

“Fuck off.” I hang up on him.

Damn. I pace, restless. I’m worried for
Keely now, this fucker has it out for her. And that’s a whole new
ballgame.

I don’t get worried about women. I don’t
stick around long enough to care. I forget their names the minute I
pull my spent cock out of their clenching pussy, and that’s the way
I like it.

Except I can’t shake the thought of Keely,
looking at me with those big brown eyes. Begging me to fuck her,
gasping my name as she comes.

I scroll through my phone until I reach her
number. I pause, then I force myself to hit ‘delete.’

I can’t get in any deeper. It doesn’t matter
how much I need to claim that sweet cunt of hers, give her a
pounding like she wouldn’t believe.

I already want to protect her too much. I
can’t risk the price.

16

KEELY

I wait for Vaughn’s call, but it doesn’t
come. Three whole days, and I turn into the kind of needy girl I’ve
always hated: grabbing for my phone with every ring, my heart
leaping as I hope to God it’s finally him.

But it never is.

I don’t understand. He’s been relentless,
hunting me down, forcing my boundaries until finally I can’t make
it through a single minute without imagining his hands on me. His
mouth.

His massive, incredible cock.

I wonder if this is all part of a game, but
that doesn’t make sense. Vaughn has always been brutally direct
about what he wants. Me, on my knees, begging for him.

And I’m ready.

Just the memory makes my skin hot and my
nipples ache. If this really is a way to make me surrender, it’s
working. I’m craving him like never before. I still don’t know what
secrets he’s hiding, but I’m too far gone to care. Fantasizing
about all the wicked, dirty things he’s done to me is the only
thing that gets me through the day. And now I don’t have work to
distract me, that’s far too much time on my hands thinking only of
him.

I need to do something before I go out of my
mind.

Trying to snap out of my limbo, I head to
the homeless shelter downtown where I volunteer a couple of times a
month. They’re not expecting me today, but there’s always work to
do: helping to prepare meals in the kitchens, or working in the
office in back, organizing fund-raising drives.

“You mind if I pitch in?” I ask Loretta,
who’s stuffing envelopes with letters asking for donations.

“Be my guest. We need all the help we can
get.” She points me to a stack of empty envelopes. “The weather’s
getting hotter, and you know how we’re already stretched to the
limit here as it is.”

I start folding and stuffing. Summer in LA
is brutal, and people on the streets don’t get to escape into the
nice cool AC. I look around at the shabby offices and realize, if
the Ashcroft money is really mine, then I could do more than just
stuff envelopes. I could donate enough to buy another building;
serve hundreds more meals. Think of how many people I could help --
and all without making a dent in the fortune.

Maybe this was why Ashcroft left me the
money. We chatted about my volunteer work before. Maybe he knew I’d
try and use it for good.

I’m a hundred envelopes down when my cell
starts to ring. I snatch it up hopefully. Justine. I sigh. “Hey,” I
answer.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing.” I try to sound more cheerful.
“What’s going on?”

“Well...” She pauses, and I know right away,
something’s wrong.

“What happened?” I demand. “Is this about
the will? Did Brent get it thrown out already?”

“No, but...” Justine sounds reluctant. “I
did something, and now you’ve got to promise not to be mad at
me.”

“What?” I ask, my nerves growing. Justine is
usually joking around, but she sounds deadly serious.

“So, I was thinking about why Ashcroft named
you heir,” she says quickly. “And it doesn’t make sense, right? You
only met him a couple of months ago, and the guy was eccentric, but
not crazy, he still had his shit together.”

“Right...” I answer slowly, not sure where
she’s going with this.

“But I got thinking about what you told me,
that thing with the bracelet. He really wanted you to have it, like
it mattered to him. Anyway, I just had this hunch, so I made them
run a test, comparing your DNA to his.”

I freeze. “What? How?”

“You left your toothbrush at my house, one
time you crashed there,” Justine explains, “Anyway, I figured it
was a long-shot. I wasn’t going to say anything until the results
came back.” She pauses. “They arrived today.”

I get this feeling of dread, like something
terrible is about to happen.

“What does it say?” I whisper.

“They match,” Justine replies. “The DNA
samples. They match. It explains everything, Keely, why he named
you heir to his fortune. Ashcroft was your father.”

I sit down with a thump. “No.” I say, then
again, louder. “No, there’s got to be some mistake. I know who my
father is, he raised me!”

“I’m sorry, but it’s true, I can show you
the lab report if you want,” Justine offers.

“I don’t understand,” I say, dizzy. “My
parents were happy together, they were in love.”

“But they married super-fast, didn’t they?”
Justine reminds me.

“Because it was love at first sight,” I
whisper.

“It still might have been,” Justine tries to
comfort me. “But I checked the dates. It looks like your mom was
already pregnant when they met.”

“But with Ashcroft?” I try and wrap my head
around it. “It’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry,” Justine says. “I know this is
weird for you, but I found employment records, showing she was a
secretary at his company for a year. Then she quit and moved to
California and married your dad.”

“What? No,” I protest. “Mom would never have
an affair with a married man.”

“She didn’t.” Justine reassures me. “This
was before he met his wife. I guess it was scandalous enough,
sleeping with the boss. They broke up right around the time she got
pregnant. I don’t know what happened there.”

My head spins. My whole life I grew up
believing I knew my parents. Why wouldn’t I? But now, the things
Justine is telling me make me feel like they’re strangers.

“Are you OK?” she checks. “I know this is a
lot to process.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to think
about anything anymore.”

“Well, the bright side is Brent can’t really
contest the will,” Justine points out. “The DNA results show why
Ashcroft left you the money. If they can’t claim you manipulated
him into naming you in the will, then you’re safe from that
morality clause.”

For now.

But the money is the last thing on my mind.
“I have to go,” I tell her quickly. “Thanks, for...”

I stop. For what? Tearing apart my memories
of my family? Making my head ache with a hundred questions about my
past?

“I’ll call you later,” Justine promises.
“Try not to freak out.”

It’s easy for her to say. I hang up, staring
blankly around at the cartons of flyers. I need to get out of here,
so I bolt, grabbing my purse and racing back to my car without even
saying goodbye. I start the engine, but I don’t know where I’m
going, so I just drive, aimlessly circling the busy streets, too
caught up in my thoughts to care.

Ashcroft was my father. All this time, I
never knew the truth.

I wonder what my mom was thinking -- what
could have possibly driven her to lie all this time? Did Ashcroft
not want me, is that why she never told me the truth? Something
must have happened to make her run like that: move across the
country and start a whole new life with a different guy.

And dad... My father was a good man. Kind
and patient, funny and loving. I have eighteen years of happy
memories with him, and even though I know this new revelation
doesn’t take them away from me, I wonder if he knew all along. Did
he look at me and see some other guy’s kid?

Who am I now?

I gulp back the tears. My heart is breaking.
I’ve been so alone since the car accident stole my family from me
-- but all along, I had someone out there. I just didn’t know
it.

And now I’ll never have the chance to know
him.

I think back over my few brief meetings with
Ashcroft. The jokes he cracked, the stories he told me about his
life. I enjoyed our time together, but I didn’t think twice about
it. Now, I ache with the missed opportunity.

If he’d only told me, I could have known the
truth. We wouldn’t have had long together, but it would have been
something.

Why did he seek me out after all this time?
What changed? I run through the possibilities in my mind, trying to
make sense of it. Maybe there was a reason things didn’t work out
with my mom, maybe he regrets the way it ended. Or maybe he just
felt guilty after all this time, and was trying to pay me off from
beyond the grave.

So many questions. I’ll probably never know
the answers now.

All I’m left with are regrets.

I look up, paying attention to the road for
the first time. I realize that I’ve driven up towards the Hollywood
Hills. Towards Vaughn’s house.

I feel a sudden flash of recklessness. I
know I’m all mixed up, reeling from the bombshell news, but
suddenly, I crave him more than ever.

Time slips away so soon. Anything could
happen. People can be gone from your life in the blink of an eye,
and you never get a second chance.

I don’t want Vaughn to be just a memory. I
don’t want to regret missing out on this too. Nothing about the
last few weeks has made any sense. But the desire already clenching
in my body, this is something real.

Something I can hold onto.

I take the turning up through the Canyon, my
determination growing. I pull into his driveway and hurry around to
the door before I can change my mind. The entrance is set back from
the driveway, off a platform overlooking the canyon. I ring the
bell and wait, my stomach tied up in knots.