Chapter 9 ~ Only Option

Chapter 9

RUSSEL

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"You got the sample, yeah?" I asked as soon as Aldo entered my office.

He gave me an affirmative nod. "I did, boss." He set a small vial on my desk with the careful reverence of a man who understood exactly how much trouble he'd be in if it broke.

I let out a satisfied breath and leaned back in my seat. "What did you do with it?"

"Took it to Dr. Romola."

"Finally. Took you seven days to get it." I shook my head. "How did she react to being randomly pricked by a stranger?"

"She handled it like a champ." Aldo hesitated, like he was debating whether to add something, then did it anyway. "Dr. Romola says the full panel should be back by tomorrow. Wanted me to tell you personally, since you seemed particular about it."

"I am particular about it," I said, more sharply than the moment called for, and Aldo had the good sense not to comment on it.

Aldo's half-smile made me smile too. "And the guy she's been talking to?"

"Oh, we are still unable to get his face and name since he hardly ever leaves his car. But he picked her up at the park shortly after I bumped into her."

I sat forward immediately, and my grip on the chair tightened until my knuckles ached. "Where did they go? And don't tell me you still couldn't get his face."

Aldo chuckled softly, entirely too amused for a man about to deliver a report I might not like. "They didn't get the chance to go anywhere or do anything. I followed them. They stopped in front of a fancy restaurant, but something happened that made her run out of his car in a hurry."

My breath caught in my throat. I had actually seen her dash into her room and take the cash I gave her, quick and furtive, like she was afraid someone might catch her wanting it. Then she ran back out with a speed that left me worried.

"Did the bastard hurt her?"

"No. Turns out she had to visit her brother at school. The whole money business and all."

Now that was good news. I didn't know when I started smiling. To think I'd actually just thought of pulling that particular string today, before Aldo had even walked through the door with a better answer than the one I'd been planning to manufacture myself. Now I wouldn't have to. It felt like the universe was pushing her right into my arms.

They did have a lot of family problems and a shady past at that. Plus her mother's sickness was another string waiting to be pulled. Whatever happened, she needed money. And I had money. I only had to make her see it, the way you show a drowning person the only rope in the water and wait for them to stop pretending they can swim on their own.

Her problems were only small compared to how much she was tormenting my dreams. Each time I closed my eyes, she was there, tempting me, seducing me, always just out of reach in whatever twisted version of the night my mind conjured up. I had never craved something for so long without getting it, certainly not a woman, and she was the first.

What was so special about a blonde with hazel eyes? I would find out, and pretty soon. I'd built an empire on patience, on waiting for the exact right moment to move, and I told myself this was no different. It was easier to believe that than to admit I was running out of patience entirely.

Selina would have hated this version of me, the one who tracked a woman's every move through a bank of screens and called it due diligence. Then again, Selina wasn't here to hate anything anymore, and the man who might have cared what she thought had died with her.

"That will be all for now. I have some business to attend to. Keep me updated on any developments with them."

Aldo nodded and left the office. I checked my watch. I had a few hours before my next business meeting. Perfect. Enough time to clear my head before I had to sit through another two hours of quarterly numbers pretending I cared about any of it more than I cared about a phone that still hadn't rung.

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The soft music from the hidden speakers filled my private suite as Rochelle stood by the door, her eyes downcast. She knew exactly why I had summoned her, and the slight trembling of her slender body revealed her anticipation. She'd been here enough times to know the routine, to know exactly what was expected of her, and yet the nerves never quite left her, which was, admittedly, half the appeal.

"Come closer," I commanded, my voice low and controlled.

She took small steps toward me, her red dress clinging to her curves. Her dark hair cascaded down her back in loose waves. She was stunning, but she wasn't Allesia. No one was. It was an inconvenient thing to notice in the middle of exactly the kind of evening that used to clear my head without effort, and it annoyed me more than I let on.

"Your business reports were sloppy this week. You know I expect perfection."

"I'm sorry, sir." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

I circled her slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. "Sorry isn't good enough, Rochelle. You know what happens when you disappoint me."

Her breath hitched. "Yes, sir."

I reached out and traced a finger along her jawline, unhurried, the way I did everything when I wanted someone to understand just who was in control. "Safe word?"

"Wine," she replied without hesitation.

I nodded, satisfied. "Good girl. Now, take off that dress and bend over the desk."

As she obeyed, I opened the drawer where I kept my favorite tools. This would be a pleasant distraction from my frustration over the Allesia situation. I needed to release this tension, and Rochelle was more than willing to help me with that.

The leather strap was cool against my palm when I lifted it out, worn soft in the middle from use. Rochelle heard the drawer close and straightened without being told, forearms braced flat against the desk, dress pooled around her ankles, spine arched just enough to show she remembered the posture I liked.

"Count for me," I instructed, running the strap once along the back of her thigh, unhurried, letting her feel the weight of it before it ever landed.

"Yes, sir."

The first strike cracked across her skin, and she sucked in a breath through her teeth. "One."

I circled her slowly between strikes, watching the way her fingers curled against the desk's edge, the way her breathing changed from sharp inhales to something looser, more open, somewhere around the fourth. By the sixth, her voice had dropped into that low, wrecked register I'd come to recognize, half pain and half something closer to gratitude.

"Six," she gasped, and this time the word came out on a moan she didn't bother hiding.

The bitch was enjoying it. 

I set the strap down and pressed my palm flat against the reddened skin, feeling the heat radiating off it. She shivered under my hand, hips rocking back into the touch before she caught herself.

"Good girl." I bent low enough that my voice was just for her. "You take that so well."

"Thank you, sir," she breathed, the words barely holding together.

I finished what I'd started, taking my time to let her feel every stroke. Rochelle gave herself over to it completely, every gasp and broken moan exactly the release valve I'd needed after a week of watching a woman who wouldn't even return my calls.

By the time we finished, my mind was clearer, more focused, or at least that was what I told myself while I straightened my tie and watched her slowly dress herself, the satisfaction of the scene already fading faster than it usually did.

"You did well," I told her, my voice softer now. "Take the rest of the day off. Have the spa team take care of you."

She smiled gratefully. "Thank you, sir."

After she left, I poured myself a glass of scotch and returned to business.

Three hours later, I was back in my element, seated at the head of the conference table as my top lieutenants presented their quarterly reports. The room smelled like coffee and expensive cologne, the same as it always did, and under normal circumstances I could have run this meeting in my sleep. Despite the pleasure I had taken with Rochelle, my mind kept wandering back to Allesia Guerrero.

"The offshore accounts have been secured, and we've successfully laundered the proceeds from the last shipment," Aldo reported, sliding a folder across the table.

I nodded absently, flipping through the documents without really seeing the numbers on the page. "And the new venture on the east side?"

"Profitable beyond expectations," Aldo replied. "We've already recouped our initial investment and are looking at a thirty percent return by the end of the quarter."

Business was good. My empire was expanding. I should have been pleased, but all I could think about was her rejection. The fact that she still hasn't called was bugging me more than I wanted to admit. It was no longer just about claiming her. It was now about my ego, and I'd built an entire life around never letting that particular wound go untreated.

"What about the real estate investments?" I asked absentmindedly as I dragged my eyes back to the files in front of me, forcing my attention where it was supposed to be instead of three hundred miles away in a girl's bedroom I had no business thinking about during a board meeting.

As flimsy as it sounded, we had to keep our legitimate businesses running smoothly on the surface. The perfect distraction for snoopy cops.

The meeting continued for another hour, with reports on various aspects of business ventures, both legitimate and otherwise. When it finally concluded, I dismissed everyone except for Luca.

"Stay," I told him as the others filed out of the room.

Luca was my most trusted man, the one I called when things needed to get handled delicately, the one man in this organization who'd never once asked me a question he didn't already know the answer to. When everyone else had left, I leaned back in my chair and fixed him with a steady gaze.

"I need information on Renzo Guerrero. Everything you can find. And I want to know more about Allesia's mother."

The boy had sounded pretty confident on the phone, I’d like to test how far that confidence carried.

Luca's expression didn't change, which was exactly why I trusted him with things like this. "She's sick. That's the most obvious."

"Hm. I need to know her condition, her treatment plan, how much it's costing them. Find out who her doctors are and what they're saying about her prognosis. I want the full picture, Luca, not the version they're telling their insurance company."

"You want leverage," Luca stated. It wasn't a question.

I swirled the amber liquid in my glass, watching the light catch it. "Allesia has refused to accept my generous offer. Their mother's illness might be the key to changing her mind."

Luca nodded, understanding exactly what I wanted without needing further explanation. That's why he was invaluable to me.

"I want you to do something for me, Luca. Something that will leave them with no choice but to come to me."

"What do you have in mind, Boss?"

I smiled coldly. "Make sure their insurance claim gets denied. Find out who's handling their case and make them an offer they can't refuse. Then ensure that any other financial avenues they might pursue suddenly become unavailable. Loans, family favors, whatever they think they can lean on. I want every door but mine closed to them by the end of the week."

"Consider it already done."

"I need her to eat her words, and then I'll smile in her face and remind her why my name is Russel Mancini. I want her to understand exactly what it costs to say no to me, and I want her to understand it before she ever gets the chance to say yes."

"He'll get the message."

"And Luca," I added as he turned to leave, "be subtle. I don't want them knowing who's behind their sudden streak of bad luck. Not yet. Let them think the universe is simply cruel to them, right up until the moment I decide it isn't anymore."