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Sebastian smiled. “Hit me again.” Or else wasn’t said or unsaid. The statement was there.


“What?”


“Hit me again,” he repeated.


The man’s eyes widened. “You’re insane. Who the hell smiles after getting punched in the head?”


“I do.” Sebastian turned his attention to the woman, still standing there. Trembling in fear and cold. “What’s your name, love?” he asked softly. He didn’t want to scare her.


“Molly B—”


“Don’t need a surname.” Sebastian smiled gently. “Now, would you’d be so kind as to grab my mobile from my left coat pocket, go to my contacts, and call Ivan?”


Molly hesitated. “You’d trust me to not run off with it?”


No, he didn’t. “Let me help you, Molly. Call Ivan and he’ll come round with a car. We’ll go pick up your little one and take you both to a very safe place where no one can hurt you.”


Molly stretched out her hand. It shook. “How do I know you won’t hurt me more than Frank has?”


“You don’t.” He looked at Frank, who stared back at him like he was the very Devil. “Whatever you decide, I’ll take care of this one. Won’t I, big boy?” Then he applied more pressure and finished breaking the rest of Frank’s wrist bones.


Two days later, Sebastian stood outside the back entrance of the safe house, with the director. She was a no-nonsense woman who he had complete confidence in and used the money he sent every month wisely. The former mansion could house up to thirty women and children. It wasn’t the only one he supported. There were twenty more like it throughout Scotland, Ireland, and England.


Helping these women and their children wasn’t something he bragged about, and not because he was a humble man either. He wasn’t. It was shameful that these houses had to exist in the first place, but they were needed. And so, he had provided them.


“Molly’s fitting in very nicely here, Mr. Romanov. Her little one’s already playing with the others.”


“Excellent.” He turned to leave.


“She asked for your name,” the director said.


He wasn’t surprised. Molly had asked him on the limo ride over, right before she put her hand on his crotch and offered to pay him back. He’d let her down gently, moving her hand away. She’d collapsed against him, crying, and he’d let her, offering his handkerchief when she was done.


“What did you tell her?” he asked, already knowing the answer. She’d say nothing at all, of course.


“That names weren’t important around here, only deeds.”


“We’ve need of a director for a new house in Glasgow. Know anyone?” he asked.


The director didn’t blink. A breeze blew a lock of platinum hair over the scarred side of her face. Her ex-husband had taken a razor to her, and since owning a gun hadn’t been an option, the restraining order had become just as shredded as her face when he’d broken into her flat.


A nosy neighbor had saved her, and brought her to Childers, where his father had been a patient at the time. Sebastian heard the story, and had paid for her to be moved to a nicer place, with private medical care.


She’d healed, written him a thank you note, and he’d responded by offering her a job, but not before doing a thorough background check on her.


“I might have someone in mind. Unfortunately,” she said.


He watched as the director went inside, using a code that even he didn’t know, and locked the door behind her.


Suddenly, he realized that he was tired. That he was lonely, and he wanted his old life back. It was time for him to quit feeling sorry for himself and move forward.


Two days later


Jules: I’m back.


Daisy: Better?


Jules: Getting there.


Daisy: I missed you. Did you meet someone?


Jules: Would it have mattered if I had?


Daisy: Yes, and it only took a week of not talking being able to you everyday to realize it.


Sebastian’s fingers froze over the keyboard. It was time to end the charade. He was in too deep and was dragging her after him. But the place he was in right now, the place he’d most likely forever be, was no place for her. He had to end things. Make up an excuse, tell her that he had in fact met someone, or lie, like he’d been doing all along.


Only he couldn’t, because he loved Daisy.


But he wasn’t all sorted out, yet.


Jules: Give me time, darling, and I’ll be all yours.


Daisy: My time belongs to you.


Oh yeah, he was done for, and completely confident he could find a way to reveal the truth to her and make their virtual relationship a reality.


Chapter Six


One month later


Sebastian sat at his desk, going over the fine print of the Xeron-Chang Contract, when Liam walked in his office.


“You’re fired,” Liam said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Happy now?”


Actually, Sebastian thought he’d be elated at the outcome, but he felt as though someone had punched him in the gut and the groin. Simultaneously.


Fact: He had planned for this, by making shady deals with even shadier characters on project guaranteed to lose money.


Fact: He’d wanted this to happen. The total embarrassment of his father had been his ultimate goal.


Fact: His father had been killed, most likely murdered, so that goal was no longer attainable.


Result: Well, Liam had given it to him.


None of that signified, however. He could repair the damage, and convince the right people to see thing his way once more. “I can’t be fired,” Sebastian said, glancing at the paper in his hand.


“Sebastian.”


He forced himself to look at the man standing to his right. “Yes?”


Liam stared at him, worry and concern shining in his dark eyes. “You’ve been voted out. Five ayes, one no, and an abstain.”


The voice of his dead father slithered inside his head. You are nothing without me. You are nothing without Romanov Industries. I made you.


Steeling himself, he cleared his throat. “I assume you were the abstain?”


“Actually, I voted aye.” Liam’s dark brows drew together. “You really can’t expect me to let you continue down this path of self-destruction. You can’t punish everyone else for your father’s crimes.”


So Liam knew. “Shall I collect my things and be off?”


Liam held up a hand. “I made a motion that you be allowed stay on, and the Board agreed.” He canted his head to one side. “In a completely limited role, of course, as a consultant and point man for the—”


“How magnanimous,” he couldn’t help but saying.


“It’s very magnanimous, you pompous ass,” Liam snapped. “I put my reputation on the line for you.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, his best friend began to pace the room. “They think you’re a loose cannon, like your father, in regards to your personal life, and this little ‘Oh I’m back and will be so very good, sir’ act is just that to them—an act. No one trusts you.”


Not even you, Liam? he wanted to ask, but he didn’t want to know the answer. “What do you propose?”


“You could actually start properly dating a woman, perhaps let it lead to an engagement, sort out things with your brother—”


“You want me to lie?”


Liam stopped in front of Sebastian’s desk, placing his hands on the top and leaning forward. “Don’t pretend to have grown a conscience in the past two minutes.”


Sebastian shot to his feet, getting right in his best mate’s face. “I am not Vladimir Romanov, and you, of all people, should know that,” he growled. He slammed his fist against the desk, but the only reaction he got out of Liam was a mocking smile.


Sebastian’s phone buzzed, but he didn’t answer it.


Liam’s gaze went right to where Sebastian’s phone set on his desk, and that mocking smile turned into a smirk. “Oh, what a tangled web we—”


“Shut it,” he muttered, straightening. He smoothed back his hair and readjusted his tie.


Palms up, Liam stepped back. “Seriously, get back together with Kate. Hell, fill her in on the entire scheme. Make it look like you give a damn about anything and anyone who isn’t you. Make them think you want this job. Be the exact opposite of your father and make your family want to be around you.”


Sebastian wanted to defend himself, and say that he wasn’t a cold bastard like his father, but since his father’s death, he had actually become one. Most of his friends, like Liam, had overlooked it for the most part, since he’d seen the light. He owed them his gratitude, and an apology.


“I’d rather try to repair things with Christian than re-open an old wound with Kate,” he said, already deciding he would leave right after work and board the company jet to fly to the States, to the very town where the woman he adored from afar lived and waited on him. No, not him. Jules.


Liam nodded. “There’s the Sebastian I know.”


“Too bad my family doesn’t know him.” Sebastian smiled wryly.


“You’re not a bad man, Sebastian, to those of us that know you.


“Don’t you think my family—my twin brother of all people—should know that?”


“You’ve only let them see glimpses of the real you,” Liam reminded him.


Sebastian raised his brows. “Ah, but did they bother looking?”


*** *** ***


Plopping down in her office chair, Daisy tossed the certified letter she’d just received onto her desk. “Stupid insurance company.”


Dealing with them was going to be the death of her, and she only had a month to decide whether or not to go through with arbitration.


Yeah, because money was suddenly going to start growing on trees and she could just go outside and pluck off a few hundred grand to pay for everything.


Her lawyer had been the one to recommended arbitration and to get it over with as soon as possible.


She pushed the letters from the insurance company and her lawyer to the side and frowned. It seemed like every time she thought she was free, something else rose up to bite her on the rear.


It had turned out that the final six months of her mother’s life spent at the best hospice insurance could buy hadn’t been covered after all. A clerical error was to blame, and now she—once again—had to pay up.


What was she going to do?


All of her money was in her business and she had just hired some part-time help that would start as soon The Sweet Spot was up and running in its new location.


She and Isabella had decided to join forces and open a bakery/bookstore in the town. Unfortunately, the only building they could afford to rent was in the middle of major renovations. On the bright side, they’d signed a lease in time for the renovations to include a state-of-the-art workspace for Daisy.


Every time she saw the design, she wanted to swoon and tell Jules, but she hadn’t yet. She had wanted to surprise him with her new adventure into expanding her business.


Only now she wanted to go back and not agree to anything at all, which made her the worst business partner and best friend on earth.


Isabella swept into her office.


And there was the best business partner and best friend on earth, Daisy thought glumly.


Dressed in dark jeans and a lime green sweater, Bella radiated happiness as she brushed a strand of caramel-colored hair behind her ear. “Hi—oh, no. Did Glen text you again?”


A little laugh escaped Daisy. “Not since the last one, where he said he’d changed his mind and was really in love with Nina now and not Gina. Gosh, that man has a thing for rhyming.” Every so often, she would get a random text from Glen, saying that he missed her, that he’d been wrong and they needed to work things out. She had deleted every last one, and would then call Bella or Haven to tell them.


And Jules. She shared everything with Jules.


“Oh good. I’d hate to go all medieval on him.”


Daisy rolled her eyes. “What happened to turn the other cheek, preacher’s daughter?” Although she wanted to thank God Isabella didn’t have a clue what was going on. Not exactly the best business move, but what could Daisy tell her that wouldn’t send her best friend into a panic?


“I’m going for the smite thy best friend’s no good, rat bastard of an ex-boyfriend that keeps bothering her with texts months after the break-up type of thing. After all, that’s exactly what Jesus would do.”


A giggle escaped the confines of her mouth. Rising to her feet, Daisy walked around her desk and gave Isabella a hug. “I’m fine. Want a taste of the menu I’ve made for Christian and Zoe?”


The unmistakable sound of a hammer being wielded made Daisy and her best friend wince. Maybe she had moved in too soon. Renovations on the historic building seemed to be taking forever, mostly because almost everything the owner did had to be approved by the town’s historical society. The plans alone had taken almost a year. Thank God for their General Contractor.


“Only four more weeks of construction, D, four more weeks,” Isabella said.


“At least they leave by six PM.”


“You’re a sweetheart for putting up with it.” Isabelle picked up a bite-sized cucumber sandwich and popped it in her mouth. “I could eat this entire plate.” She reached for another one, but Daisy smacked her hand.


“I said a taste, you glutton.” Daisy took the plate and placed it back in the fridge, then turned to face her friend. “What brings you by?”


“Can you keep a secret?” Isabella asked, tawny eyes shining. “Peter and I are going to elope this weekend instead of waiting until October to get married. I hope you’re not mad. I mean, you are—were—supposed to be my maid of honor and all. Haven’s not speaking to me over this, but I hope you won’t take it so hard.”