Read Claimed by the Billionaire: Rescue #3 Online

Authors: Danielle Jamesen

Tags: #Romance, #Short Stories, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary Fiction, #Contemporary, #Women's Fiction, #United States

Claimed by the Billionaire: Rescue #3 (2 page)

BOOK: Claimed by the Billionaire: Rescue #3
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Chapter 2

 

The flashes that went
off were blinding. I was seeing stars in front of my eyes. The volume from the
photographers was almost deafening.

“Serena, how did you
start dating Mr. Bradley?”

“Serena, did you get
the job by sleeping with Mr. Bradley?”

“Serena! What example
are you setting for your son by sleeping with your boss?”

That last one almost
got me. I wanted to turn around right then and there and spit in whoever had
asked me that question. But I didn’t feel like being a story on the news, more
than I already was. I was already worried that Greg would hear something from
his classmates and come home asking questions.

I managed to get inside
the building where the paparazzi weren’t allowed to enter. There were more
people than I liked in the big lobby downstairs. Were they reporters too? A
couple looked over and opened their mouths as if they were going to shout at
me. I managed to dart inside the elevator quickly before they could say
anything. Was it just me or was the girl behind the desk giving me the
stink-eye?

The elevator rose up
and I tried to steel myself in case Winter or some other asshole was near
Bradley’s office. The doors opened slowly and I let out a breath I didn’t
realize I had been holding. The office was empty. I walked over to my desk,
closing my eyes briefly. I already had a headache and hadn’t even started the
work day yet. The phone started to ring.

“Don’t bother picking
it up.”

Bradley was in the
doorway of his office, taking a sip of coffee. My hand had been hovering over
the phone but dropped limply by my side.

“Why?”

“It’ll just ring again
in five seconds. Reporters have been ringing all day. Winter must have leaked
this direct number. I’m trying to get the number changed today.”

I sighed. The phone
went silent and sure enough, in about five seconds, it was ringing again.

“She leaked my e-mail
address too,” Bradley said, “I’ve been getting e-mails at a pace that I can’t
even keep up with. Come on, I brought you some coffee.”

I followed him into his
office. It looked the same as always. I don’t know why I was expecting it to
look differently. I guess I was expecting some big neon sign over the desk,
saying in big bright neon lights that it was where Winter had caught us having
sex. He had the news on in his living room area.

“What are you trying to
do?” I asked, “Punish yourself?”

He shook his head,
“No,” He looked uncomfortable, “My lawyer said Winter is doing an interview
with some morning show.” Bradley didn’t look at me as he said it.

“Are you serious?” I
exclaimed, loudly.

“Serena, don’t freak
out.”

“Are you serious?” I
repeated but this time it was aimed at him directly, “How can I not? There is
only reason she is going to be on some morning show — to talk about us.”

“I know that.”

I felt frustrated, “Are
you going to stop her?”

“How could I stop her?”
I didn’t have an answer, “We can’t do anything, Serena. She’s going to do this
tour to try to get more power in the divorce.”

I suddenly felt sick,
“She’s going to talk about us.” I repeated dully.

“Serena…”

But the sick feeling
washed over me, over taking me. I was going to throw up, I realized with a
start. I covered my mouth to stop a potential mess and ran to his private bath
down the hall. Crouching over the toilet, I threw up, the stress finally
getting to me. I puked everything up and then laid there, my head hanging over
the toilet seat, trying to catch my breath.

“Serena?” Bradley said,
sticking his head in hesitantly.

My stomach was rolling,
“Water. Please.” I croaked.

Bradley’s head ducked
out and then he came back, handing me a cup of water. I sat, propped up against
the toilet, sipping on the water gingerly.

“Are you okay?”

I shook my head, “I’m
just stressed. Way more than I knew, apparently.” For a second I thought I was
going to cry but I told myself not to be a baby.

“You shouldn’t watch
the interview.”

“Why not?” I sighed,
“If I don’t, I’ll just hear bits and pieces of it through other people.”

Bradley turned on the
TV that was in the bathroom (which I found ridiculous for an office bathroom
but I would never say it out loud) and he sat down on the rim of the tub (like
I said, ridiculous). The news program was finishing up some boring thing about
healthy eating. I sipped my water but my stomach still felt like it was going
to act up again. My head was pounding at this point. The interviewer introduced
Winter and the sight of her made my stomach growl loudly, as though I was
hungry even though I had just thrown everything up.

Winter’s hair had been
dyed. Gone were the platinum locks. Instead she was back to the mature brunette
color she had sported in her wedding photos. She no longer looked like the
“bimbo bride”. She was wearing a woman’s suit with a pencil length skirt. I
almost laughed — Winter was wearing fake glasses too, in a pathetic attempt to
look as though she was smart. Even her fake nails had been changed to a dark
brown to match her outfit. I felt pissed off just seeing her, with her fake
sadness splashed across her face like a Halloween mask.

The interviewer, some
lady named Amanda, started asking her run of the mill questions first. Winter
preened and looked pleased with herself and all the attention she was getting.
Bradley was silent and I didn’t say a word either.

“Now,” Amanda said, as
though she was changing to a very serious subject, “Who wasn’t envious of your
wedding to Bradley Gable three years ago. It was glamorous and luxurious and
the talk of the town.”

Winter smiled, “Yes, it
was truly wonderful. Absolutely lovely.”

Amanda made a concerned
face, “But now I hear that you are getting a divorce?”

Now Winter’s face fell
too, as though she was about to talk about something she couldn’t bear to say
out loud, “Yes. It’s true. Bradley filed for divorce.”

“Why would he do
something to someone so beautiful and talented?”

Huh, so much for
unbiased journalism, I thought, not daring to glance over at Bradley.

Winter lowered her
head, “I’m sure you’ve seen the gossip magazines, Amanda. He’s cheating on me
with his own personal assistant.”

Amanda feigned
surprise, “How could he do such a thing?”

Winter shook her head,
“I don’t know. I really don’t. He works so hard, you know. All the time, he
works to make the best products he can for this country and around the world.
He isn’t a selfish billionaire. He cares about his company. But he cares a
little too much about his company’s employees, if you catch my drift.”

“How did you find out?”

“I walked in on him and
the girl,” I smarted at the fact she called me a girl when I was a couple years
older than her, “In his office. Can you imagine? I had gone there to try to
talk to him about calling off the divorce, to let him know I truly cared…

Her voice caught at this, as though she was going to cry, “But he
was…he was with her, physically. On his desk.”

Amanda reached out and
patted Winter’s hand as she cried daintily, dabbing her eyes, “That must have
been horrible.”

“Oh, it was. Imagine —
imagine thinking you had a chance to save your marriage but you really didn’t
at all. Not at all, it was just that he was sleeping with someone else the
entire time. It’s heart breaking. And now it’s all over the gossip sites too, making
me feel even more foolish than I already did.”

Winter kept crying,
weaving her sob story for everyone to hear. It made me so angry. She was saying
now that she just wanted Bradley to come back to her and have things be the way
they used to be. The interview ended with Amanda promising more “bombshells”
soon, whatever that could be.

A commercial came on
and I glanced over at Bradley who was still sitting on the edge of the tub,
looking as though he had aged forty years in the span of that interview.

“Why don’t we just leak
the damn tape I took?” I asked him.

“What?”

“The tape of her
bribing me to spy on you.  Why don’t we just leak it to all those sites?
How can she refute that?”

Bradley bit his bottom
lip as if he was thinking, tossing it over in his mind slowly, “Is there any
way she could turn it to her advantage?”

“No,” I replied, “I
mean, what could she say?”

“That she tried to
bribe you to spy on me because she thought it could save our marriage. That she
could see if I was cheating and come back to her.”

I pointed to the TV,
“But she said right on the show that she had no idea you were cheating until
she walked in on us. So she’d be lying.”

“That wouldn’t matter.
It’s a lie that could be easily adjusted.”

“It’s still bribery.
She was still paying someone to spy on you. That’s crazy. I think if you
release it and let the public hear the tape for themselves, they can make up
their own minds.”

Bradley was lost in
thought.

 

Chapter 3

 

The video clip on TMZ
ended. The headline above it — ‘INNOCENT’ WINTER BRIBING TO HAVE SOMEONE SPY ON
HER HUSBAND CAUGHT ON TAPE — was large and impossible to miss. 

The story didn’t say
much. It said that this audio clip reporting to be Winter bribing someone in
Bradley’s company had been leaked and they were waiting for a statement from
Winter. 

Bradley and I stared at
the page, hoping that this would lead to something positive for Bradley. The
press hadn’t exactly been kind about him “cheating” on his wife who just wanted
to fix up their marriage. He was worried it would affect his business.

With the clip leaked,
Bradley leaned back in his chair, overlooking his office.

“Bradley,” I said to
him and he looked up at me, “It’s time for me to resign.”

His mouth made a hard
line, “We talked about this, Serena.”

“No, we decided that
we’d see if you could pay for my things or not until I find another job. I
think we already decided that turning in my notice is the best thing for the
company and your divorce.”

Bradley rubbed his eyes
and sighed, “I can’t tell you what to do, Serena. But what are you going to do
about money? This is my fault. Let me help.”

I felt torn between
what to do. I didn’t want Bradley to pay all my things but I also couldn’t help
but agree with what he was saying. I didn’t look to be dragged into a mess like
this with his ex-wife.

I let out a sigh,
“Fine.”

“Okay,” He grabbed my
hand gently, “Then we’ll do that.”

It didn’t take long for
the headlines to appear online — BRADLEY GABLE’S LOVE INTEREST QUITS HIS
COMPANY — and there were all sorts of versions. I was doing it because I was
nervous about Winter or because I was going to move in with Bradley or because
I was going to sue him for sexual harassment. When I got home from work the night
after the information leaked online, the paparazzi were outside my apartment.
They had found out where I lived. I had Greg in the car, having picked him up
from his after school program and his eyes were wide and like saucers.

“Mom, what’s going on?”
He asked me, “Did someone die?”

I cringed inside. Last
time we had had the press on us like this, it was after Greg’s father had died
and the company had lost all its money. I hadn’t been looking forward to
dealing with it again.

“Don’t talk to them,
okay, Greg?” I said as we parked.

“Okay, mom.”

“Stay close to me and
we’ll get in the house, understand?”

Greg nodded. The
paparazzi had noticed the car and started running over to it. I slipped on a
pair of giant sunglasses I had in case this happened and opened the car door. I
grabbed Greg’s hand as soon as he stepped out of the car and pulled him close
to him. We took off towards the front door, trying to ward off the press.

“Does your son know you
quit your job?” One shouted.

“Have you told your son
that you are sleeping with your ex-boss?” Another one yelled.

“Did Mr. Gable sexually
assault you?”

My jaw clenched. I felt
the anger rise and crash over me a few times and I grit my teeth. I wanted to
punch each and every one of them square in the face as they jostled me and my
son around as though we weren’t people, just hot stories.

We finally burst into
the apartment and I slammed the door shut behind me, quickly closing the window
closest to the door.

“Greg, pull the blinds
shut on the other windows.” I ordered and Greg took off.

I pulled out my cell
and called Bradley, who answered on the first ring. As I told him what had
happened, I could hear him getting angrier on the other line.

“Serena,” He said when
I finished, “You can’t stay there. They’ll just keep you locked in and any time
you leave it’ll be a mess.”

“What do you expect me
to do?”

“Come to my apartment.”

“Are you serious? The
press would go all over that.”

“No, I’ll send a car by
to come get you. Bring Greg. I have plenty of room. Bring some things you will
need for the rest of the week.”

I hesitated, “I don’t…”

“Serena, they will not
leave. I have a doorman, I have some protection at least. You can try to relax
here.”

Greg bounded into the
hallway, peering at me curiously and I lowered the phone for a second, “Greg,
pack some things for the rest of the week. We’re going to get away from the bad
people outside.”

Greg nodded, probably
taking it as an adventure, if I knew my boy and bolted off towards his room.

On the other end,
Bradley said, “I’ll get a car there in an hour, okay?”

I hung up, suddenly
feeling extremely nauseous. The stress was getting to me more than I was
leading on. I ran off to the bathroom, crouching over it, watching as my lunch
came up. When this was all over, I told myself, I’d take a vacation.

True to his word, an
hour later, my phone rang. It was the driver, saying that he and a bodyguard
were getting out of the car and going to the front door. They told me to be
ready.

When they rang the
doorbell, I clutched Greg close to me and we went back out into the mess of the
outside. The bodyguard made sure we had a clear enough way to get to the limo.
The driver opened the door. I tried to ignore the fact my picture was being
taken every two seconds or that Greg was being photographed as well. The driver
opened the limo door and I made sure Greg got in first. I slid in after him as
the bodyguard put the two suitcases I had packed in the back.

The limo was silent and
the windows heavily tinted. I knew they couldn’t see us anymore. Greg was still
clinging to me and I ran my fingers through his soft hair as the limo purred to
life underneath us. It was trying to leave but the paparazzi was thick and
stubborn.

Finally, the driver
lurched forward, as if he was threatening to run them over. They finally parted
and he was able to get out of the parking lot. Soon, we were on the road.

“Mom, what’s going on?”
Greg asked me, looking up at me.

I wasn’t sure how to explain
it or where to even properly begin. I knew I would have to tell him something.
Greg wasn’t a stupid kid. He’d pick up on the fact that something was wrong. I
knew he heard what the reporters had been shouting at us too, about my boss and
me.

I sighed, “There’s some
trouble at mommy’s work. We’re going to go have to stay with my old boss.”

“Old boss?” 

“I had to leave the
job. But we’ll be okay, Greg. We’ve always had been, right? My old boss,
Bradley, he’s helping us from those people. Where we are going, we won’t be
bothered.”

Greg fell silent,
clearing trying to understand what I had been telling him. I hoped it wasn’t
too much for him. The limo went along slowly, out of the area where I lived in
and was making its way back to the city.

I didn’t know where
Bradley lived, I realized. I hadn’t even pictured it. It had been so busy
lately and so crazy that I never pictured where we went to bed at night or got
up in the morning. I couldn’t help but think that it was probably stunning. I
guess I would be seeing it now.

The limo pulled up in
front of an apartment complex that seemed to have at least thirty floors. Greg
looked up at it, mouth slightly open.

“Hey, mom, isn’t this
the new place that opened last year?”

He was right. This
apartment complex, which seemed to underscore its grandeur, was indeed brand
new. It had opened last year for the elite, a way for them to get their own
place and have the freedom to design it as well, if they cared as much. I don’t
know why I thought that Bradley would be at anyplace other than this one.

We went into the
parking garage, hidden from view from everyone. The limo then drove up to a
side entrance with glass doors.

“A secret entrance,
mom!” Greg explained, plastering his face against the glass of the limo,
“Cool!”

I had to admit that the
fact this place had so many well-known people staying here that it had to have
its own secret entrance was pretty cool. The limo door opened and Greg and I
stepped out into the parking garage.

“Thank you.” I said to
the driver who just nodded in return.

The body guard, a giant
of a man that looked like he could knock anyone down if he so desired, led us
to the hidden entrance. He typed in a pass code and then the doors opened and
he ushered us inside.

In the evening light,
the lobby was quiet and dimly lit. There was a fountain in the center of the
marble flooring and off to the side, along the wall, was running water,
cascading down into tiny pools with flowers bobbing on them. Well-dressed
people were walking in and out of the front doors or heading to the elevators.
There was a large desk on one end with the receptionist. There were flowers all
behind her and even a giant aquarium off to one side.

“Wow!” Greg exclaimed
loudly, breaking the carefully constructed silence.

I shushed him as
quickly as I could, trying not to be embarrassed. The body guard led us over to
the elevators. We slid into an empty one, the doors shutting behind us. Even
the elevators had plush carpet, I noticed. There were mirrors all along the
inside and I caught sight of me.

I wished I hadn’t. I
looked dreadful. My hair looked messy, my clothes askew and my skin ashen. I
had taken off my sun glasses when we came into the building and I looked as
though I hadn’t slept in decades. I hated that Bradley was going to see me
while I looked so completely terrible.

The body guard pulled
out a key and slid it into a slot that was underneath the buttons to press.

“What are you doing?”
Greg asked, point blank.

Normally I would have
asked him to mind his manners but I was too curious as well to hold him back.

The body guard looked
at Greg kindly, which went at odds with his massive body frame, “Mr. Gable
lives up on the top floor. You can only get the elevator there if you slide the
guy in the lock.”

“Whoa!” Greg said,
impressed, staring at where the key had been slid.

I was impressed too,
thinking of how even when I had had money, I had never had that amount of
money. The elevator rose up and Greg yanked on my arm. I turned around. The
elevator was a window and you could see through the back. We looked over the
city as we rose higher, the lights turning on slowly through out it, the sun
setting and casting different shades of orange over the city.

The elevator stopped
and the body guard led us out. I was expecting a hallway to Bradley’s place but
we were in the foyer of his penthouse already. There was hard wood floors all
over, with low lighting and a rustic feel throughout the foyer. The body guard
put down the suitcases and asked us to wait in the foyer.

“Mom,” Greg said in a
quiet voice, “Your old boss is really rich!”

He was right but I
didn’t get to reply. Bradley came in through the door that separated the foyer
from the rest of the house. He was in casual clothes like the time he had come
over to my apartment. His shirt looked as though he had just thrown it on and
he was wearing jeans.

“Hey, you guys get here
okay?” Bradley said, stepping forward.

“We did, thank you,” I
replied and then nudged Greg forward a little, “Bradley, this is Greg, my son.”

“You’re rich!” Greg
exclaimed loudly.

“Greg!” I said.

Greg lowered his head,
“Sorry.” He said, sounding abashed.

Bradley crouched so he
was at Greg’s level, “It’s nice to meet you, Greg. Your mom has told me a lot
about you.”

“Greg has homework to
do. Is there anywhere that he can work?” I asked.

“I don’t want to do
homework,” Greg whined, “I want to do something fun.”

“How about you do your
homework and then we do something fun?” Bradley asked.

Greg eyed him, “Like
what?”

“Well, I have some
video games…”

Greg demanded to know
what video games and when Bradley named the latest title in Greg’s favorite
series, I knew that was enough to have Greg focus on his homework so he could
play. Greg seemed to warm up to Bradley after that, deciding that being rich
was cool but having the latest video games was even cooler.

 

BOOK: Claimed by the Billionaire: Rescue #3
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