Bound: The Pentagon Group, Book 3 (36 page)

“Not much of a choice, Matt,” I shook my head in resignation that we could be over. “So this is it? This is how everything ends?” I couldn’t believe we were at an impasse.

“Take the money, Perla,” he warned. I looked up to the ceiling, seeking an answer from somewhere above.

I sighed, “As you know, per the invitation you’ve already received, we have a shareholder meeting on Friday at three. I suggest you attend. I’ll give you my answer afterwards.”

“I’ll be there,” he stated assuredly. I turned to walk away. “Perla!” He called. I turned to look at him. There was love in his exasperated look, just beneath the anger and hurt. “This isn’t personal. It’s a preemptive strike. The Board calls an emergency meeting, I need to protect myself.” He concluded.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Matt. This is completely personal. I’m already protecting you. You’re better than this,” I waved the papers in front of him. “I’d hoped you would give me a chance to fix this my way. To work through this, but as always, you want to control every single aspect of our relationship—from withholding the truth, then waving your worth to keep me, now waving your money to shut me out,” I shook my head and shut my eyes, turning toward the door.

I heard him run from behind his desk. Within seconds I held me within his grip. His arms pulled me close to his tall, muscular body. The first breath I felt on my nape made me quiver. I sensed he was trying to absorb the last moments of our physical connection. And I knew we were far from over. Regardless of the animosity, he was the man I adored. From the tight hold, I knew he cherished me too. I should never have questioned his love for me.

Matt buried his face in my hair, inhaling my scent. I felt his arousal at my buttocks. His arms pulled apart, going in opposite directions, up and down my body. An involuntary reaction to the stimulus caused me to rock into him. We couldn’t spend two minutes in a room without bringing ourselves into each other’s arms, seeking the stimulation and non-verbal displays of affection only we could give one another. He turned me around. His hands wandered toward my breasts, squeezing them together and clutching them hard. His thumbs smoothed over my nipples and I arched back as I felt his breath closing into my throat. I held onto his broad arms as he manhandled me. I gasped at how rough he gripped me. Whether rough and needy or gentle and loving, I couldn’t get enough of him. I panted as he bit and sucked on my neck. I tried to pull away, preventing a visible mark, but he held me so close and so hard. His fingers were splayed on my back, pressing deeply into my flesh. I knew I would have impressions of his fingers indented on my body again.

“I can take care of you for the rest of your life. All you have to do is be my wife. And you know what you need to do to make that happen. I can make you so happy, babe. You just have to do the right thing,” he said breathily. His scent and words were intoxicating, inebriating me toward agreement.

He kissed me, our tongues melded into one. I loved tasting him, wishing he would take me right there and then. His hands went down to my buttocks, pulling me aggressively to his crotch. My clit took the impact from his hardened cock. My feet left my heels as I tiptoed upwards onto his body. As he pulled me up, I let go of the papers, dropping them to the floor in a flutter, just like I felt in my belly. My legs parted instinctively as he hooked his hands around my thighs, picking me up. I pulled away to look into his eyes then looked downward at his lips. Desire was all I could see from his hooded lids to his quivering lips. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him, but I believed it a means of control; forcing me to agree to his offer. Without fail, my body responded first and my brain was slow to stop myself from giving into his manipulation.

I threw my head back when his cock hit the right spot. My breath hitched and I moaned at the sensation assaulting my core. Our passionate moment became too much, and I pulled away. My nipples were uncomfortably hard, along with my engorged clit, which screamed for release. I knew I needed to get away. I lowered my legs to make myself heavy and rigid, trying to circumvent a sexual encounter in his professional office. He gripped me closer, turning our bodies toward his desk.

After letting go of my body, he positioned me to face the desk. I rested my hands on the edge and widened my stance to balance myself. He pulled up my dress with one hand, sliding the other up my back thigh to the edge of my panties. The tips of his magical fingers skimmed my cleft, and I backed into his touch. I could hear his jagged breath in between my own irregular intake of air. I was wet and ready for him to take me in whichever way he needed to claim me. I couldn’t ever deny him, which was my biggest flaw.

A knock on the door, interrupted us, “Dr. Keene, you have to leave for the hospital.” A voice said from behind the door, startling me.

After a short pause he responded, “Thank you, Laurie.” He rested his forehead on my shoulder, exhaling with a grunt. A bite to my shoulder followed, and I groaned as he growled. The bite was a parting mark to remind me of my continued punishment. He pulled his hand away from my bottom, and adjusted my panties and dress. He walked toward his desk. From the corner of my eye, I saw him adjusting his cock.

“Will we ever get to a point where we actually use words to communicate our feelings instead of through our lawyers and the drafted legal documents, or fucking each other until we’re captive enough to listen?” I asked when I caught my breath. He looked at me, gritting his teeth.

I picked up the paperwork from the floor, and paused.

I requested, “Don’t come over hoping to fuck some sense into me. Since you’ve given me a limited amount of time to decide, I need time to think and figure out what I stand to lose in the long run,” I demanded. He turned his back to me and placed his hands on his hips, sighing as he tossed his head back.

I took it as my dismissal, opened the door, and walked out.

*****

“Hi, Turner,” I greeted when he answered. I was in the car on my way to Pentagon’s headquarters. “How are you coming along with my proposal?”

“Darlin’, you two will keep the Boston Bar running for at least fifty-years,” he chuckled. I smirked, rolling my eyes in acceptance of our dysfunction. “Everything is all set for tomorrow. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“He’s leaving me no choice. He may not accept, but I need to know if he cares about me more than about destroying the company. This will hopefully stop us from battling each other. I want to put this whole ordeal to rest,” I said, feeling weary.

“I’ll fax them over to your assistant.”

“No. I learned they’re one of Matt’s informants. Each of them have fed Matt information about me,” I revealed. “Can you send it to Kevin? I’ve informed him to expect the documents. He’ll make the copies to present to Matt at the meeting,” I said, feeling a bit woozy with all the emotions and plans volleying in my mind.

“Are you okay, Darlin’?” He asked.

“I’m just tired, Turner.” I confessed. He paused, waiting for more.

“You’re not given more than you can handle, remember?” He said softly. I smiled.

“Yeah, I must be ‘Mighty Gal’ then,” I quipped. He laughed before hanging up.

Upon arriving at Pentagon, I went up to my office to tackle the mounds of paperwork I needed to review and sign off on for the next phase of Pentagram’s construction. I felt like I needed to accomplish all my work within the workday because Matt was determined to make it my days ever.

I spent the night with Papi in his hospital room. The next morning, he was discharged, and transported to the rehabilitative facility designated for his six-week stay. With Papi settled, I was able to work overtime to get ahead of my work. My private time was spent sad and fearful. There were moments of inconsolable crying and heaving. Between my angst, sickness, and frequent urination, my sleep was fitful the night before our meeting.

Matt didn’t contact me during the time between our confrontation and Friday’s emergency Board meeting. At the appointed hour, I ventured upstairs to Brady’s floor. Lark sat in the room, tapping his ball point pen on the table. Kent sauntered in soon after. My heart beat furiously as we made idle chit chat. Zipper entered with documents in hand.

Matt appeared in the doorway, made eye contact with me, and walked to a seat away from me. He looked handsome in a dark, pin striped suit. He greeted everyone, leaving me for last with a terse, ‘Perla’. My throat constricted, and I forced the tears back. I was super emotional with the hormones, worrying about my father’s health, and my future with Matt.

Our meeting was either going to preserve Pentagon or break it up for good. Brady arrived, late and smirking when he saw Matt sitting beside Zipper. Brady greeted everyone, and complimented me, which was obviously a means of angering Matt.

Zipper called the meeting to order. “This emergency meeting is called outside of our usually scheduled monthly meetings because we have some issues we need to resolve for the best interest of Pentagon. When we created this business we had many goals. It wasn’t just for the money. It was five men who enjoyed taking risks and venturing into the big, bad world of business. We’ve been really successful, and we’ve been able to grow this corporation from a five-hundred dollar investment to an over two-billion dollar conglomerate. Our reach has far exceeded our expectations. As we’ve matured with the business, our goals and values have changed, and recently have diverged from our original purpose. Our conflicting interests and changed expectations have caused us to meet today. The expected outcome is to communicate our wishes, expectations, and determine once and for all what is best for Pentagon,” Zipper emphasized.

“Our rules are pretty simple. We work for the good of all. We remain friends. And we don’t let anything stand in our way of friendship,” Zipper looked each man in the eyes during each statement. He continued, “Our job is to bring success to this company by buying and selling businesses. But somehow we no longer are focused on business. We’re focused on who has what and whom,” he said, looking at Brady and Matt. “Threats have been made to remove the shares of one member, splitting it up amongst the four remaining shareholders, and another to dissolve the entire company. Each threat will have the consequence of destroying all we have worked so hard to create.” Everyone listened intently as he controlled the room with his summary.

“Four of us, controlling shareholders and proxy voters, have come to a decision. Two people in this room may not agree. But we frankly, don’t care,” Zipper stated. Matt and Brady leaned in. Their jaws flexed and their eyes narrowed as Zipper continued. “Perla came into this company because Matt tried to keep her under his control.”

“Wait a minute . . .” Matt started.

“You don’t have the floor. As a matter of fact, you don’t have a vote anymore. Please contain yourself,” Zipper stated. Brady smirked.

“While we would have preferred to have you, Matt, remain as a voting member of this Board, you’re not. In her short tenure, Perla has contributed greatly to this corporation. All of us voting members have come to believe Perla is an asset as an executive. We hope she remains at Pentagon for an indefinite period of time. Whether or not she holds voting rights, Pentagon is willing to provide her employment in her current post with possibility of an increase in title, responsibilities, and base salary and bonuses. However, you proposed to her that she return your shares in exchange for a large sum of money. In addition, you require her to leave Pentagon. To further stifle her growth as a businesswoman, you require a non-compete clause. We didn’t consult with Brady, but myself, Lark, and Kent believe your offer is in direct violation of our bylaws. You cannot place Pentagon in a position as to lose valued executives, especially a woman in this male dominated industry. Essentially, you could be sanctioned for violating constitutional rights and federal laws, such as Title IX laws, which preserves women’s rights to equal opportunities. We cannot abide by that,” Zipper said. I hated to hear Matt reprimanded in such a public manner. Matt folded his arms, listening to Zipper’s castigation. Brady audibly smirked and coughed; a childish act.

“What we cannot tolerate as a corporation is a Board member who has stooped to criminal behavior to obtain what he wants,” Zipper looked at Brady. “We’ve turned a blind eye to a lot of your behavior over the years, knowing we wouldn’t be able to contain you. However, when we learned you were single handedly responsible for Perla’s kidnapping, we couldn’t ignore your “by any means necessary” philosophy,” Kevin accused.

“What the fuck are talking about?” Brady queried.

Matt leaned in intently, listening.

“We have evidence, which shows you were the mastermind behind Perla’s kidnapping on both occasions. The first time resulted in a car crash, which precipitated a hospital stay. The second attempt from the construction site by your team of professional thugs, who transported her in your private jet to a private estate you own in the Dominican Republic, going so far as obtaining a United States passport without her consent or participation. You put Perla in danger when you allowed a mad woman to imprison her and threaten to kill her. When you pretended to save her, your thugs shot at both of you, and put Perla in harm’s way.”

Matt almost jumped out of his seat when Zipper held him down by the arm.

“You kept Perla imprisoned on your estate with no means to leave or call anyone. You retained possession of her phone, identification, wedding ring, and financial resources, so she had no choice but to stay until you decided when she could return,” Zipper said.

“Our Board decided long ago four methods which invalidate ownership of shares and reverts them to the remaining Board members. Those methods were incompetence, incapacity, death or violation of our partnership agreement, which was then incorporated into the bylaws of this business.”

“I’m not in violation of anything.” Brady argued.

“One of the violations set forth in our charter is not undertaking any businesses which compete with our mutual partnership. Every year, we’re required to list all of our assets, liabilities, and ventures, to show we are not directly competing with one another. Since your return with Perla from the Dominican Republic, it has come to our attention you own a competing business interest in the Dominican Republic; a resort called Cala Sirena; translated into English as ‘Mermaid Cove.’”

Brady’s face drained of color. Dots of red from either humiliation or anger dotted his neck, rising to his checks.

“Our independent investigation determined you have had a major ownership in Mermaid Cove for the last five years. You’ve never identified your ownership, regardless of percentage, in none of your yearly filings with Pentagon.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Brady argued. “I don’t have such interests,” he denied.

“Perla confirmed you claimed to have “a minor interest” in the resort,” Zipper quoted from notes before him. “When we investigated further we traced the ownership to a SMC corporation with an international corporate registration in Ireland. Your mother is an Irish national, is she not?” Zipper asked.

I bit my lip from the sarcastic cross examination, awaiting Brady’s response.

“I don’t know what that has to do with anything.” Brady replied.

“Well, isn’t your legal name Seamus Michael Clay; initials being SMC? And you have a mother who is a national of the country in which you hold dual citizenship, as well as the potential for significant tax benefits by being incorporated in that country,” Zipper concluded.

We all sat back, watching Brady squirm. We found other businesses which SMC, your company, has a vested interest in. The list of hotels and resorts in the Caribbean and in the British Isles are too numerous to name, not to mention your golf resorts in Ireland and Scotland. We have a list, if you’d like to confirm.” Zipper said.

Zipper pushed a typed page toward Brady. Brady didn’t flinch, staring at the piece of paper. The room remained silent until he couldn’t take five pairs of eyes glaring at him.

“What the fuck is this meeting all about?” Brady asked.

“We propose you take an indefinite leave of absence.”

“Fuck no. Why would I do a stupid thing like that?”

“Because you are incapable of running this corporation. We also feel you are incapacitated by your obsession with Perla since she was sixteen years old. We have evidence going back twelve years in which you’ve investigated, followed, and have had pictures taken of Perla without her consent. There are numerous improper and illegal things you’ve done against her, which we’ve outlined in a formal complaint against you.” Zipper answered.

“This is bullshit, Zip,” Brady yelled. “What is the purpose for you stating all of this?”

“Essentially, all of us who can vote as a Board have decided we want you out as President of Pentagon, and we are restricting your right to vote on any matters associated with business interests which concern Pentagon. It’s clear we cannot allow someone who owns other businesses in direct competition and has falsified filings for years to run this company,” Zipper concluded.

I felt shame for Brady. While I didn’t condone his behavior and entitlement to do criminal acts against me, I felt he did have Pentagon’s best interests. I didn’t think he created all those other ventures to spite Pentagon.

The other men watched him stoically.

“I will seek an injunction before you will ever be able to remove me from my rightful position.”

“You can do that, or we can contact Federal authorities to investigate and potentially charge you with kidnapping, false imprisonment, robbery, assault with a deadly weapon, and anything else they determine. Perla is prepared to press charges to protect herself.” Zipper proclaimed.

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” Brady exclaimed, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes at me.

I wasn’t convinced by his assertions. He had every reason to lie. We were taking away his position in the company; a company he had worked so hard for.

“No. I want him ousted and I want him arrested,” Matt bellowed.

“I will concede to Brady being removed from office and voting for the indefinite period, however, we want you to seek intensive therapy of our choosing. Your progress toward getting better will be monitored . . .” I said.

“Getting better? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your obsession with controlling my life. I don’t think you really ever wanted me as a ‘lover’,” I said with disdain for the term. “Your expectations for my future can’t be molded to what you want for me. I’m a grown woman with my own goals. I will fall in love with whoever I choose, not who you want for me. I believe you’re empathetic to my losses and want only gains for me, but I don’t need you to choose it for me.” I said.

“I’m not obsessed with you,” he countered.

“We have evidence of thousands of pictures and investigative notes about my early life until the moment we were dancing at Sirena resort. You contracted with a photographer to take long range photos. The photos were given to the journalist who wrote the blog article about the three of us. You’ve actually masterminded everything and tried to pass it off on a woman you caused to be demented,” I added.

“I’m not going to sit here and be attacked by all of you.” Brady said.

“When you don’t like being confronted, you run away like a coward,” Matt interjected.

“I’m not a coward, asshole,” he spewed. “If you would have just minded your own business and let me go with my plan, I wouldn’t have been pushed to get time with her,” Brady directed at Matt.

“She doesn’t want you. Once she learned who you really were, how do you think it would have turned out? Did you even think that far? Was it for shits and giggles when you took her from me and kept her away for a week? Your actions are not of a mentally well man.” Matt assessed.

“I told you before. If you wouldn’t have interfered, she would have been mine.”

“I would not. We have no chemistry past the silly twelve-year-old girl crush and the protective, big brother interactions we had for only two years; on the limited occasions when you were home from school. You were trying to fill a void because I lost my mom and Tommy, but this isn’t romantic love,” I said, motioning my two fingers between the two of us.

“Perla, I shouldn’t have to explain my feelings again in front of all of these people. We can discuss this on our own,”

“You’re not discussing this with her alone. She’s my wife.” Matt said.

“Did you file the license?” Brady directed at me.

“I will file because I am his wife,” I said, retaining eye contact with Brady.

“I’ve given up on other women,” Brady reported.

“From where I stood at the gala event you were giving women all of your attention, and I was happy to see it.”