Chained to You Vol. 2: Trapped and Entwined (Dark Billionaires #2) Read online

  “Please do,” James said.

  Not a moment later, Sophie went on to ask him about his business, to which James simply replied, “It is fine, as usual.”

  James had no idea the woman liked to talk. Truth be told, this was the first time he’d conversed so much with her during the two years since she’d become his employee.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Maxwell,” Sophie said a moment later. “She’s not here either.”

  James said, “That’s fine, Sophie. I’ll call again later.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “If you could just hold on, I’ll find her in no time.”

  “No,” he said. “That’s fine. I’ll call again later this evening.”

  “Oh, okay,” Sophie said. “Bye, then.”

  “Hmm.” James hung up.

  Dismissing the thought of his daughter and Sophie from his mind, James got ready to leave his office. He was at the door when his cell rang, attracting his attention.

  He picked up and said, “Cole, what’s up?”

  Cole got straight to the point. “I got some information on the whereabouts of Herbert Weston.”

  “Yeah?”

  “He was in Mystic Spring yesterday, but he already left when we checked the place out. He’s on the move again. I suspect he’ll be going to the West Coast. Either Las Angeles or Las Vegas.”

  The moment Cole said that, James felt a little sick to his stomach. “He’s after Mia and Andy.”

  “Yep. Looks that way,” Cole said. “Got a call from one of the waitresses back in Mystic Spring. She said a suspicious-looking man came in yesterday, asking about Mia. She told me the man said he’s her relative.”

  “I see,” James said. “Keep tracking him, Cole. We can’t let him get away. And we can’t let him get near either Mia or Andy.”

  “Sure, boss,” Cole said. “I’ll call again to keep you posted.”

  “Yeah. We’ll talk soon.”

  “Yeah. Bye for now,” Cole said and then hung up.

  James flipped the phone shut and sighed. “Fuck!” he swore under his breath.

  It was a few hours later, after he had his meeting with the important client, when he met up with Matt for a drink in one of their favorite bars in the city. They were sitting in their favorite spot at the back, sipping beer, when James brought up the subject.

  “Herbert’s after Mia and Andy.”

  Matt nearly choked on his drink. “Fuck me!” he said. “If he lays his hands on Andy, he’s as good as dead.” He shook his head in disbelief that such a bastard of a man was so persistent in getting his claws on his prey. “He’s on his way here?”

  James nodded.

  “Guess the bastard doesn’t realize the siblings are under our protection.” He chuckled. “Fuck. He’s in for a big surprise.”

  James nodded. “A damn big surprise.”

  “Come on,” Matt said, sliding off his seat. “Time to go. Another damn dinner meeting. Shit, James, when the hell is this going to end? It’s like this every time you’re in town.” He shook his head. “From now on, you’re not welcome in Las Vegas,” he teased. “Go back to L.A.”

  James chuckled. “Glad to. Once the shit’s over.”

  “Aria must really miss you, huh?” Matt asked.

  He gave a quick glance at his friend and nodded. “Yep. Though I couldn’t get ahold of her today.”

  “There’s always tomorrow,” Matt said.

  James didn’t comment on that statement.

  They were just at door, leaving, when James remembered he hadn’t told Mia about the fact that he wouldn’t be able to join her tonight, again. They were walking along the busy footpath as he dialed Mia’s number.

  Matt glanced over and shook his head. “Fuck, James. You act like the world is going to end if you can’t hear her voice for a day.”

  “Shut up,” James snapped, a little irritated the comment hit right on the mark. Fuck! He knew he shouldn’t act like Mia meant so much to him, but hell, he couldn’t help himself.

  It was on the fourth ring now, and Mia still hadn’t picked up the phone. Then it went to voicemail, and he cursed.

  Matt gave a long, loud whistle and then laughed. “She’s not your wife, James.”

  James gave Matt a dark frown. Dismissing his friend, he quickly sent Mia a text. Once done, he said, “I don’t want her to wait on me. Fuck, quit jumping to conclusions.”

  Matt shrugged. “Sure,” he said, secretly smiling.

  Chapter 27

  Mia

  It was nearly five that evening by the time I finally said good-bye to Savanah. This had been the second time I’d had a proper coffee date with her, and I had to admit both times had been wonderful. Not only that, but being able to spend time with her along with Andy had helped ease my loneliness for the past four days while James had been so busy with his work.

  During our seemingly very short teatime, we gossiped about men in general. Especially James and William, of course. It was fun, and we couldn’t help but giggle like schoolgirls. By the sound of things, Savanah seemed smitten with William. Her eyes glowed and her cheeks blushed pink every time she mentioned his name. I wondered if I looked like her every time I thought or talked about James.

  Then of course we chitchatted about random subjects such as fashion, beauty, movies, and of course books, which to my surprise were some of Savanah’s favorite topics. I was glad she was an avid reader and loved books of all sorts, especially mystery and travelling. She’d said she’d love to travel around the world one day, as I did. We promised each other we’d be travelling buddies when the time came.

  That reminder stopped me short as I made my way back to the car in the parking lot.

  Travelling buddies, huh? I sighed.

  That innocent, enthusiastic plan wasn’t likely to happen, at least until five years later, when my contract with James expired. When I was no longer his mistress. When I’d be free.

  My heart raced at the thought, and instantly, I felt both saddened and confused.

  “I’ll no longer be with James,” I murmured under my breath, my eyes on the toes of my shoes.

  I was so used to being with him already. So used to having him around, doting on me and kissing me. I was so used to sharing a bed with him, eating with him, and talking nonsense with him. It was like I’d known him so long, and I knew our relationship would only grow deeper within the next five years. Not to mention the fact that it had only been four days since I hadn’t seen him properly, and already, I felt I’d been starved of him. I felt like my world had turned gray and dull, as if I were missing something very important. The blue sky, the Prussian blue I loved. The Prussian blue of James’s eyes.

  I was already lonely and slightly depressed, and hence, the thought that we’d part in the future only made my heart ache even more.

  So many questions popped up in my head then. What would I do after the contract ended? What of James? Would he have fallen in love with me already? Would he want to let me go?

  Instantly, I thought no. I didn’t want him to let me go, regardless that our unconventional contract had expired. Yes, I was selfish, but—

  “Miss Donovan.”

  Patrick’s voice came my way, which made me jump back to reality. I blinked, only just realizing I had actually reached the car without knowing.

  I said in a fluster, “Patrick, you surprised me.”

  Patrick chuckled and said, “You look a little troubled there.”

  I gave him a bright smile, pretending nothing of the sort was happening to me. That I was totally and awesomely fine.

  “I’m fine, thank you. No trouble at all.” I confirmed.

  Patrick nodded and opened the car door for me. “That’s good, then. Here you go.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I slipped inside.

  I was just putting on my seatbelt when my cell phone beeped, telling me I had a message. I dug into my handbag and found the phone. Flipping it on, I saw I did indeed have a message from James.

>   My heart skipped a beat, wondering what he was texting me about. Oh God, I’d missed him. God, please let him tell me he’ll be free tonight, that he’ll be having dinner with me, that we’ll spend the evening together and maybe…

  I nervously clicked on the message and started reading. After I finished, my heart felt as if it had sunk to bottom of the ocean like a bombed submarine.

  So he was busy again tonight. And wouldn’t be back until well into the night.

  Billionaires, huh? Weren’t they always busy? Not to mention the fact that James was multibillionaire, and surely, he’d be even busier than most.

  My heart felt crushed within my chest.

  No. No. No. I snorted at my own stupidity. Of course James was a busy man. For him to able to join me for dinner every other night was a miracle indeed. I shouldn’t be down just because I wasn’t going to be with him for a while.

  “Is everything all right, Miss Donovan?” Patrick asked, his eyes watching me with concern.

  I raised my head to him and nodded, along with a smile. “Yes.”

  He didn’t look convinced, but nodded nonetheless. “Back to the hotel, then?”

  I was about to agree when I thought of something better. “Actually…” I began, smiling broadly now. “How about the supermarket?”

  Patrick raised a brow. “The supermarket?”

  I nodded. “I thought I’d make Andy and myself something nice to eat. I haven’t cooked for a while now.”

  Patrick laughed. “You cook, huh?”

  “Of course,” I said. “I’m pretty good, you know. Andy loves my cooking.”

  He chuckled. “And I’m sure Mr. Maxwell will enjoy it, too.” He started the engine, and a moment later, we were out of the parking lot.

  I gazed out the window and stared mindlessly at the busy traffic as we sped through the streets.

  Mr. Maxwell will enjoy it, too. The statement both excited yet saddened me at the same time. The thought of James eating and liking my food made me deliriously happy. The sad part was he wouldn’t be able to eat the food I was going to cook tonight. But there was always another time.

  It was a full hour later when I finally arrived back at the hotel, my arms full of groceries. It didn’t help that people were looking at me weird. Well, of course they would. Who in their right mind would buy groceries and cook while staying in a five-star hotels in Las Vegas? Where there were literally hundreds of renowned restaurants sprawled within easy access across the city.

  After closing the door of the suite behind me, I went straight into the kitchenette and began my magic. I was quite excited to finally be able to eat something homemade and, of course, made by me.

  After placing the groceries on the counter, I quickly phoned Andy. He picked up on the second ring.

  “Hey, guess what?” I asked excitedly.

  Andy chuckled at my unmistakable enthusiasm. “What?”

  I shook my head. “No, you’re supposed to guess my guess what.”

  He laughed. “All right,” he said. “You’re going to cook something, aren’t you?”

  I was shocked he was so spot on. “How did you know?”

  “Well, you did promise me you’d cook something for me while I was in the hospital. That never happened, did it?” he asked rhetorically.

  I sighed. “Okay, I’m sorry. A lot happened during that—” I paused immediately, thinking about Andy and Matt and their relationship.

  Andy seemed to understand my abrupt break in speech and continued. “Hey, it’s not too late.” This was followed by a chuckle. “So what ya cooking?”

  “Spaghetti Bolognese,” I replied eagerly. “One of your favorites.”

  He laughed. “Cool. I’ll come over and help. Got nothing else do to.”

  “Is Matt busy again tonight?” I asked curiously. I also wanted to add like James. I wasn’t surprised of course, since they ran some of their businesses together, like ruling their underground domain in Las Vegas and this hotel and casino for example.

  “Yeah,” Andy said. “Look, I’ll come over now and we can talk while we cook.”

  “Sure,” I said and then hung up.

  After putting the phone down, I got the ingredients out of the grocery bags and everything ready: saucepan for cooking the spaghetti, chopping board, knife, and other utensils. By that time, Andy knocked on the door, alerting me of his presence. I rushed over to let him in.

  “Look what I got,” he said the moment he stepped into the suite, a cheeky smile playing on his face.

  I chuckled as I gazed at him, pleased at what he was holding. I believed it was one of Matt’s favorite and most expensive wines, Sangiovese.

  “Nice,” I said, taking the bottle.

  As Andy made his way into the kitchenette, I eyed him like a mother hen for any sign of pain or discomfort. I simply couldn’t help myself. He’d only just been released from the hospital, after all, and as his older sister, his health and well-being was my responsibility.

  He looked well today, though, which I was glad for. Although, I had noted there were still quite a few bruises on his skin. This worried me a little, but then again, I was always worried about Andy, so that couldn’t be helped. I noted also that his gait was still awkwardly slow and slightly crooked, as if he had a very sore backside. I knew this was due to the many brutal injuries he’d received during his kidnapping.

  I sighed, my heart aching. My poor brother. He had been through a lot of shit. I had known living with Uncle Herbert had been hard enough, but to be kidnapped and brutally beaten was altogether another level of hardship. It was probably hell. Torture.

  Tears stung my eyes. Not wanting the damn things to pour down my cheeks, I sniffed.

  Andy turned to look at me then for a moment. He must have seen my tears, because he sighed and raised his eyes heavenward.

  “Come here,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “You’re being silly. Stop being so emotional.”

  Gosh! Once again, I knew he knew I was thinking about him, about his brutal kidnapping, about the cruelty that had been inflicted on him during those dark hours.

  I shook my head. “I’m not being emotional, you ass,” I snapped, rubbing my eyes with the backs of my hands.

  Andy chuckled as if he found my defensive words amusing. “It’s not that painful,” he said to reassure me. “I’m used to it. It’ll go away in a few days.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. I didn’t like the fact that he was accepting the beating he’d received as if it were an everyday event, a routine of sorts, like drinking, eating, and sleeping. As we had when we were little and living under Uncle Herbert’s cruel reign, kicking and smacking us because he felt like it. I thought we’d had enough of that shit. I’d thought we refused to accept that sort of life as being something normal. The day-in, day-out beating and abuse, both verbally and physically. Had I been wrong? Had it just been me who refused to accept something so cruel and tormenting was normal?

  Or was it the fact that it was hard to let old habits die? Because for Andy and me, abuse had been normal during our teenage years. And once you accepted something like that as being a normal occurrence, I guess it was hard to let it go because it was so ingrained within you now, something that was a part of you.

  “I know that,” I said. “But still… You’ve been beaten so badly. It’s painful just thinking about the torturous things you went through that night.”

  Andy stared at me for a moment. He looked a little lost and confused at my words. Then suddenly, he laughed as if he found something oddly amusing.

  I, on the other hand, didn’t find anything amusing at all. Not one bit. I was worried sick about him, and here, he was laughing at my concern.

  “Stop it,” I snapped, my face red. Gosh, I simply wanted to end this discussion right now. “Come on. Let’s start cooking. I’m starving.” With that, I turned my back on him and picked up some onions and garlic. I peeled the skin of the onion and was just finished chopping the vegetable into small pie
ces when Andy said, drawing my attention to him, “Thanks for worrying about me, Mia.”

  My heart skipped a beat and tears brewed in my eyes. I sniffed, and Andy laughed. I knew he was laughing at me because I was crying. Instantly, I was annoyed.

  “It’s the onion,” I snapped. “You’re jumping to conclusions.”

  He kept laughing until I lightly slapped him on the arm to make him stop.

  Chapter 28

  Mia

  We took our time making the spaghetti Bolognese, and we enjoyed every moment of the process. About half an hour later, the kitchenette and living area smelled like an Italian restaurant. After putting some delicious-looking food neatly onto plates, I admired my handiwork while Andy poured us some wine.

  As I gazed at the two plates, I couldn’t help but gush with delight at the fact that it looked restaurant or recipe book worthy. Not wanting to let the pretty sight go to waste, I rushed in search of my cell phone while Andy watched me with interest. A moment later, I came back into the kitchen and took loads of photos, moving the plates this way and that, snapping the image in every which way possible.

  I was about to put the phone away when Andy stopped me.

  “Hold on. You haven’t taken photos with the wine yet.” With that, he placed two glasses of Sangiovese next to the plates of spaghetti Bolognese.

  I chuckled, gave him a thumbs-up, and then continued to take photos. Once I had enough, we sat on the couch in the living area, and with the TV on and the volume low, we started eating.

  Needless to say, we both enjoyed our dinner tremendously. It was better than going to a restaurant, and for what it was worth, cooking had kept me busy, which meant I didn’t have to think about James.

  This situation, Andy and me sitting quietly together eating our dinner, reminded me of us back when we were in Mystic Spring, living in a small, rundown one-bedroom apartment. I had the cramped bedroom while Andy slept in the living room connected with the kitchenette. The memory made me smile as I observed him enjoying his food. It had been a while since I’d seen him looking so content, so at ease, and simply enjoying the moment.