“Are you sure you want to rush this, Julian? I mean, I thought you wanted a lavish affair that was covered by all the media outlets?” she asked, echoing the sentiments he’d previously expressed in an effort to buy herself more time.
“I assure you, our wedding will be everything your mother ever dreamed it would be. Pity she won’t be able to see it.” There wasn’t a hint of remorse in his tone. “The arrangements have all been made, although none of the vendors know the identity of the bride and groom. Once you have secured the shares, we can announce our engagement.” He reached for the decanter and topped off his glass. “We’ll wed on Valentine’s Day, as previously discussed, and when we return from our honeymoon, you will tell the board you’ve had a change of heart and no longer wish to serve in any capacity at Ingram. That’s when you’ll use your considerable stock percentage to vote your new husband into your vacated position.”
“Seems you’ve thought of everything.” Maybe if she could stroke his ego she could get him talking about his plans. While he’d revealed himself to be a callous, male-chauvinist asshole, he’d yet to say anything incriminating.
“I’m very thorough, Alessandra. And I always get what I want. You’ll do well to remember that. But as for the details of our arrangement, no need to worry about keeping up. It’s all spelled out in the prenuptial agreement.”
“You expect me to sign a prenup?”
“The details of the very generous wedding gift you’ll bestow on me.”
Damn him. Especially when taken out of context, none of his words amounted to admission of a crime.
He drained his glass and set it down on the coffee table as he made his way across the room. “In fact, let’s get the paperwork out of the way before dinner, shall we?”
As if he was giving her a choice. With his hand cupping her elbow, Julian guided Allie toward her father’s office. Her throat tightened as she remembered the last time she’d strode down that hallway, so confident in her mission. She’d planned to take control of her life that night. But instead it had shattered into a million pieces.
Julian pushed open the door to the office and all at once she was back there . . . her father was slumped over his desk, blood seeping from beneath his chest, and the phone was cradled in his lifeless hand. The police determined her mother had been shot first, surprised by the gunman as he made his way in through the kitchen. Had her father heard the shots? Had he been trying to dial 911? It broke her heart to imagine him during those last horrific moments, and yet it was a scenario she’d replayed in her head a thousand times.
“Alessandra, it would facilitate matters if you would pay attention when I’m speaking to you.”
Allie turned to find Julian standing in front of a wall safe concealed in one of the bookcases. For a split second she wondered how the hell Julian knew the combination. But then she remembered he’d been her father’s right-hand man for months; his heir apparent. Of course he knew the combination. Her father had trusted Julian implicitly. In return, he’d betrayed him by taking his life.
“You killed him,” she whispered, tearing her eyes from the dark crimson stain on the desk. “He trusted you to take care of not only his company, but his child, and you killed him.”
With a final spin of the dial the lock disengaged. “Well, to be fair, I merely paid a man to shoot your parents in cold blood.” He smirked as he swung open the small iron door. “It’s not as though I actually pulled the trigger.”
The fucking bastard. This was all just some twisted game to him. But she had him. All she had to do now was pray to God the recorder had captured what he’d just said. That, and get the hell away from him.
“I’m not feeling so well all of a sudden,” she said, offering the only excuse she could think of for a hasty exit.
“No need to feign a headache, ma cherie. I’m entertaining a guest later, so Philippe will drive you back to the city after dinner.” A salacious grin curved his lips. “Unless, of course, you’d like to join us. Amber does have a fondness for blondes.”
Julian turned and Allie’s breath caught. In one hand he held the prenuptial agreement, and in the other hand he held a gun. “Why do you have a gun?” Her mouth was so dry she could hardly get the words out.
He walked toward her, oozing arrogance. Allie’s heart rate spiked as he drew closer.
“Never hurts to have incentive,” he said, coming to a halt in front of her and setting the paperwork on the desk. “After all, you’re of no use to me if you don’t sign.” The pleasure he took from her fear was obvious in his tone. He stroked her blond hair, curling a strand around one of his fingertips. “So be a good girl and don’t make me kill the golden goose.”
“Just tell me what you want me to do.”
“Hmm.” A leering grin curved the corner of his mouth. “That’s what I like to hear.” Releasing the lock of her hair, he ran his index finger down her throat, tracing the wildly throbbing vein in her neck. “Perhaps this arrangement won’t be so intolerable after all.” His tongue darted out to lick his lips as his finger trailed to the deep V of her blouse. Allie tensed beneath his touch. If he went much lower . . .
Julian’s fingertip slipped inside her blouse and his hand stilled. His nostrils flared and his face contorted with rage. “What the fuck is this?”
Chapter Twenty-seven
It was pitch-black as Hudson brought the DB9 to a stop at the perimeter of the Lake Forest estate. He’d killed the headlights about fifty yards back and stayed deep enough in the shadows so as not to be spotted. From what he could see, there was only one car parked in the driveway, a piece of shit we’ll-pick-you-up Lexus rental. He’d half expected to be greeted by a welcoming committee of Julian’s thugs, but so far all he’d been met with was silence. It was quiet, too quiet; just the hissing and ticking of the car’s engine cooling.
He’d been in the bowels of the garage beneath his building when he got Allie’s text. The damn thing had rebounded him into pissed-off territory and left him feeling frustrated and powerless. The only advantage he had in this impromptu recovery mission was the burner phone that had allowed him to track her. But what the fuck was she doing meeting with that asshole alone? Her safety was Hudson’s top priority, and this move was a direct contravention of the proposed and agreed upon plan.
Goddamnit.
He ran a hand through his hair, then checked his watch. Where the hell was Max? Needing to do something besides cool his jets, Hudson pulled out his cell and punched the speed dial. Max picked up on the first ring.
“ETA?” Hudson’s voice was low but still razor sharp.
“Twenty out.”
Too fucking long. Hudson ended the call with a curse. His gut twisted at the thought of Allie in such close proximity to that sociopath, and the oxygen he was sucking down burned his already dry throat. Christ, the depravity Julian was capable of was limitless, and he had no remorse over its execution.
As if on cue, lights flared in a room at the far end of the house. Hudson knew from the crime scene photos that it was the study where Allie’s father had been shot. Anxiety jacked the rate of his heart until he felt like the thing was going to explode out of his chest. He had to do something. He couldn’t just sit there and wait, not while Julian was doing God knows what to his wife.
Hudson yanked on the door handle and made a quick lunge to get out of the car. At a mission-critical pace, his long strides took him in the direction of the brick mansion and toward the pair of French doors flanking the study. He dodged a bird bath that was dry as a bone and hopped over a row of low-lying bushes. Damn, there was a lot of glass. But the outside garden area was an unlit sanctuary of low-hanging branches, affording him the perfect cover.