Bound: The Pentagon Group, Book 3
Read Bound: The Pentagon Group, Book 3 Online
Authors: Rosemary Rey
The Pentagon Group
Book III
By Rosemary Rey
Published by Rosemary Rey with Amazon
Copyright 2015 Rosemary Rey
First Edition
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to author and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Published by Rosemary Rey
Cover Artist: Ella Dominguez
Editor: Rosemary Rey
Proofreader: Raven Williams
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
The Pentagon Group Series:
- Rebound, The Pentagon Group, Book 1
- Unbound, The Pentagon Group, Book 2
- Bound, The Pentagon Group, Book 3
Standalone books:
Flame
For Questions or Concerns, please write to Rosemary at: [email protected]
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To my family and friends who supported me along the way. I never intended to write a book. This became a goal, turned to an obsession, and is now a passion. My hope is to be able to continue bringing my stories and fantasies to the lovers of reading.
To the Independent Authors on Facebook, Twitter, groups, and any other social media I’ve met along the way, I appreciate your words of wisdom, encouragement, sharing of my books with your readers, and pushing me to complete this series. One of the most difficult aspects of being a writer is to share your voice or vision with the masses. It is critical we find encouragement from readers, bloggers, and other authors regardless of the genre. This is a team effort, not a direct competition. We all have a place in this business to share and support one another.
To all the readers of romantic erotica with a twist, I enjoyed writing the story of Perla and Matt, two people with a deep desire to love and be loved, but are flawed and awkward in their approach. I hope I brought a satisfactory conclusion. I write from the heart. I write what I think could be as real as the human condition can allow two people to love. I don’t expect everyone to think this is a literary masterpiece, but I hope you enjoyed their story, and will continue to follow my future works.
I hope you enjoy the final story of Perla and Matt. Please help me promote the book by leaving a rating or review in all the venues which assist you in determining your selection of a book. It helps me out as an author to continue bringing stories.
Enjoy . . .
When I awoke, my eyes adjusted to the darkened cabin. The engines whirred loudly on each side of the plane. The memory of walking toward the airplane flooded back. Eric Pierce and my captor, Tony, had taken me from the Pentagram construction site. I looked around the cabin to find the woman who stood at the steps of the airplane. She looked different than she did the majority of the years I’d known her. She’d moved on from the dark brown and the blonde color she dyed it when she dated Brady Clay—one of the originators of The Pentagon Group.
Aida Parisi, my former sister in law, sat askew before me. We eyed each other before she broke the white noise of the droning engines. I stared at a vision of a ghost with dramatically colored red hair, styled in long loose waves. She wore a gauzy, royal blue dress on her lean frame. My eyes lingered over her body until they reached her gold platform heels with the red soled bottom, which she swung gently with contained impatience.
“I wondered when you’d regain consciousness?” She said in a husky voice.
I cleared my throat before I responded with questions of my own. “I didn’t think you’d regain consciousness. I thought you were dead.” I retorted, restraining my controlled anger.
“Greatly exaggerated.” She feigned a smile. Her eyes narrowed at me with contempt in her voice.
“How does one exaggerate suicide by jumping off a bridge in New Hampshire? I heard everyone in your family and inner circle were beside themselves over losing you.”
“Everyone was beside themselves when Benny divorced you, especially my father, and my mother was nearly catatonic.” She declared.
“Aida, why?”
The plane moved forward. We hadn’t yet taken off. I gripped the arm rests of the bucket seat. When I tried to tighten my seat belt, I realized my wrists were bound to the arm rest.
“This isn’t necessary, Aida.” I informed, splaying my fingers for emphasis.
“I’ll decide what’s necessary or not.” Aida retorted.
I looked down at my hips and found my seat belt affixed loosely. I preferred it cinched tighter. “Can you tighten my seat belt, please?” I said with a tinge of panic.
“Afraid to fly, Perlita?”
I ignored her, and swallowed the knot in my throat. I turned to look out the window as the plane traveled to the runway. To alleviate my fears I timed the ascent as the waves of motion sickness coursed from my belly to my nostrils. I inhaled deep breaths and tried to calm myself before the inevitable acceleration and the g-forces made me sicker; possibly throw up.
“Relax, Perlita. Flying in a jet is calmer and more comfortable than a commercial flight,” she assured without emotion. “I remember Benny telling me you hate take-off, but you’d calm down soon after reaching traveling altitude. It’s a three and a half hour flight, so sit back and relax,” she stated.
To calm my dark thought of spending three and a half hours in a flying tin can with her, I repeated a soothing mantra while inhaling deeply.
“Why am I here?” I asked when I grew calm. My fears bubbled to the surface, and I needed the conversation to calm my mind.
“You’ll soon know.” A grim smile passed her lips. I hated her condescending tone. I couldn’t understand the animosity she had against me. I’d never done anything to warrant her kidnapping me from my home and whisking me away to another location.
“Where are we going?” I asked, hoping we’d remain in the country.
“You ask so many questions, which is what got you in this mess in the first place. Shut up and sit back.”
The plane accelerated down the runway. I closed my eyes, feeling the sinking motion in the pit of my stomach while the plane pulled up into the sky. The edge of the arm rests dug into my palms, my fingers numbed, and my forearms cramped at the tension in my grip. As the plane turned right, my stomach flipped once more. The plane righted itself into a climbing position and continued upwards.
I looked forward and saw the open cockpit with two pilots, who sat in plain view. I watched them turn their heads and move their arms about the instruments. The plane bumped, which made me stomp my feet and clutch the armrests once again. My heart sunk to my stomach. When I closed my eyes I tried to silently work through the foreign sensation of flight. Thoughts of Matt helped soothe me, and wished I could get word to him of my good health, safety, and potential location. By then, he should have known of my capture by an unknown kidnapper.
Because I knew my captor’s identity, I had to send word to Matt and my security team about Aida.. My cellphone came to mind, which was still in my large tote bag. The team could determine my location by locking onto my signal. Eric had taken my personal cellphone. He may have thought he took my executive phone, which had a locator installed. Otherwise, my personal phone would be detected through the phone company. Faith’s explanation and reminders to keep my phones with me at all times ingrained the information. I looked down to find my large, leather tote bag at my feet. I couldn’t do anything while tied down, but once I had the opportunity to retrieve it, I could dial Matt’s number.
To give Matt complete information, I needed Aida to tell me where we were going. When the plane reached cruising altitude, I decided to talk to her and hoped she’d have a discussion.
“You’re looking well, Aida.” ‘For a dead woman’, I thought. “Your hair looks lovely. Red is definitely your color.” I said.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Perlita. I’m not stupid. You’re trying to get me to soften . . . talk to you . . . tell you where I’m taking you and why. Like I said, you’ll know soon enough.”
“I’m not Aida. I’m just . . .”
“You didn’t care back then, and you don’t care now, so shut the fuck up, Perla!”
Her tone and expletive pierced right through my core, and I gasped at her reaction toward me. I heard the clearing of a throat from the back of the plane. The high backed chairs required me to turn my body around the aisle to see who sat behind us. I saw Tony to the right and Eric to the left. I thought they’d only dropped me off, but it appeared their job wasn’t over. Eric and I made eye contact. I turned back around before narrowing my eyes or frowning at the predicament he placed me under.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I reported.
“Cut the shit, Perla. You’re not five. You’ll sit there and wait until we arrive at our destination.” A voice from behind me chimed in.
“I’ll take her to the bathroom and wait for her to exit. She can’t go anywhere, Aida.” Eric said from behind me. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“Fine, but do it quickly,” she said.
Eric unclicked his seat belt and rustled forward. He stooped to release the zip ties from my wrists. I crouched to take my bag, but Eric grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the back. I cursed myself for not having a smaller phone tucked in my pocket.
Eric slid open the accordion door of the tiny lavatory. It was smaller than on normal airplanes and I had to keep crouched. I thought of how my life was truly cursed. I no longer rued the day I met Matt or Brad, but the day I met Ben and his family. Aida was clearly disturbed to have done horrible things: faking her death; kidnapping; and imprisoning me on an airplane going only God-knows-where.
Eric stood outside the accordion door when I slid it open. I didn’t look him in the eyes. He moved over as best as he could in the tiny cabin. In the narrow passageway of the eight-seat airplane, my body pressed against him as I walked by. He took a whiff of my scent, and I intentionally bumped my elbow into his abdomen. He groaned, slightly doubling over.
“Excuse me.” I said while he frowned.
I sat in my seat and latched the seat belt, tightening it securely over my hips. The sensation comforted me, which ironically helped me feel secured in the confined space. Eric latched on one tie and for extra measure tightened the strap. It wasn’t a good idea to piss him off before he secured me to the seat. When he bent lower to contain the inside arm I whispered, “I could’ve used these in bed.” He cleared his throat, pursed his lips and locked his beaded eyes with mine. Once again, he over tightened the other strap and walked off, reminding me that timing was everything.
“Does your family know you’re alive? I can’t believe they do. When I extended my condolences to Ben at Chelsea’s wedding a few months ago he looked sad. Why would you do that to them?” I asked in one last attempt to retrieve the truth. She huffed and looked out the window. When the silence took longer than expected, I turned to look out my side.
“Ben never cared about me. Once he married you, it was all about you. It was all about Ben and Perlita, and the family you would create when you have children. You were the ultimate power couple. I was so sick of hearing about you two, especially about you.” She set her gaze on me.
“And then I fell in love with a man who I thought would replace the Parisi power couple. I expected us to surpass you two. He is gorgeous . . . an extremely wealthy man, who was interested in me. At least I thought he was interested in me. When he started withdrawing from me, I realized he never had one iota of affection for me. Later, I learned he wanted you. Again, it was all about you, Perlita. I was happy to get rid of you. I worked hard to make sure you were out of my life. It was easy to make Ben believe you were a thief and a liar. It was the only time he believed me. We were a team again. He was so gullible. Idioto.” She said in the Latin language, knowing both Italian and Spanish languages as the child of immigrant Italian parents, who were raised and married in Argentina.
I remained quiet and cast my eyes down, hoping she would reveal everything and praying neither man interrupts her diatribe. I wanted to ask questions, but my curiosity had to wait.
“My mother cried her eyes out when you two separated. All her expectations for the little grandbabies she expected were gone. And because I wasn’t attached to a man, she had no hope for me to have children. My man pulled away from me when we signed the pre-offer for the sale of Parisi. And as we worked through the final contracts he dumped me. I couldn’t understand why. We didn’t fight. Our lovemaking was intense.” I cringed at her honesty, but not a sound escaped my mouth.
“And then I had him investigated. If it weren’t for Eric, I wouldn’t have found out the man I was in love with is in love with you.” She stared at me with derision, confirming her ill feelings for me were in part because of Brady. My body felt numb as I continued to listen.
“He was in love with my baby brother’s perfect little wife, who’s so smart, so honest, so fucking desirable even a billionaire wanted her too,” she hissed and shook her head in disbelief. “Two billionaires. How fucking unreal is that?”
Despite the tension in the air, I remained calm. For fear of her lashing out physically, I never changed my demeanor.
“I was happy to get you out of my brother’s life. You were toxic for my family.”
I quelled the anger rising in my chest. I may not have had a perfect marriage to Ben, but I loved her family and only had the best of intentions when it came to them and the family business. The company was in the red, hemorrhaging money and unable to pay the most basic expenses. I discovered the truth of the two sets of accounting programs which showed hundreds of thousands of dollars went missing. I tried to figure out how and backtracked to discover the problem, but I hit dead-end after dead-end. After warning Ben of my discovery, she made me the scapegoat. Aida finally revealed the truth after almost two years of ignorance.
Aida paused, and I desperately wanted her to reveal more of her story. Any sound from me would cause her to clam up. I felt my insides churn with anxiety. The confinement of the small airplane, which sailed smoothly in the sky, made me feel like I could snap at any moment. Suddenly, my breath became ragged. The lightness in my head made me gasp for the recycled air. Even though my arms were strapped down, my arms felt like they were shaking. I couldn’t feel my extremities. A panic attack struck me at the most inopportune time. Aida yelled out something, and I widened my eyes and lifted my head to look at her.
“You’re not going to pass out on me again. You’re going to listen to everything I say.”
With the directive, I reclined my head on the headrest of the captain’s seat and held her gaze. My mouth felt dry. I knew if I asked for water, to torture me, I wouldn’t get a drop. I swallowed and cleared my throat, moistening my mouth enough to lick my dry lips.
“What does he see in you?” She asked to no one in particular. Her eyes burned through me. “Sure, you’re pretty,” she said while cocking her head and narrowing her eyes at me, “but I can give him more than you ever can.” Aida turned away and looked out of the window.
“Are you interested in Brady Clay?” She asked.
“No. I’m in love with his friend, Matt. I have no feelings for Brady,” I cried out, hoping she’d believe me and be merciful.
I technically lied. I had feelings for Brady, rather ‘Shay’. The feelings were muddled, battling with each other. I didn’t love him, but I felt fondness, knowing he’s Seamus Clay, Maggie’s son. Maggie gave my family love and affection when she nursed my mother through one of her cancer treatments. I didn’t understand why Brady felt so strongly for me. His boyhood feelings were intensely out of control. I needed to know his connection to this mess; even if I took it to the grave.
I coughed profusely after my outburst, begging, “Water, please.” I continued to cough and tried to clear my throat. I felt the tears collect at the corner of my eyes, and they streamed down my cheeks. ‘Fuck, Perla. Not this,’ I scolded myself. I needed to remain strong, and tears—due to a dry mouth—conveyed weakness. My body may have shown signs of weakness, but my mind held its strength and resolve. I vowed to remain strong throughout whatever Aida had planned for me.
