Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve) (42 page)

“Yet another lie,” Jacob scoffed, slowly lowering himself back in his chair. “We both know that it’ll be a cold day in hell before you do your own grocery shopping. There is no luncheon, is there?”

She shrugged a shoulder, bringing her mug to her lips. “People change, Jacob. Once upon a time I wouldn’t have believed the man who called marriage an ‘arrangement for the deluded and weak’ would ask me for his grandmother’s wedding ring, but here we are.” She took another gulp and moaned with pleasure. “This is delightful, Leila. French roast?”

I nodded slowly.

She inhaled it for a second more before putting her mug down. “So tell me about yourself. Was it always your dream to be swept off your feet by a charismatic billionaire?”

“I am warning you...” Jacob glowered at her.

I gave him a tight smile. “It’s fine.” I poured syrup onto my pancake. “I studied communication, marketing, and publicity in college and graduated at the top of my class. Someday, I’d like to have my own business. Charismatic billionaire or not.”

“I could tell she was smart,” Alicia said, dabbing the side of her mouth even though she’d only consumed a couple of grapes. “I’m going to use the bathroom then we can finish up here. I know you two had plans other than spending your morning with me.”

Once her stilettos became a muffled tap, I whipped to face Jacob. “What the hell is going on with you and your mother? And
Jakey
-”

“We don’t have nearly enough time to get into that right now.”

“Maybe we should make time,” I hissed. “Because she’s dropping not so cryptic comments about us. About
me
. And I want to know how you could go from that letter I found to not being able to stand being in the same room with her.”

His eyes still raged, but he let out a sigh, trying to calm himself. “The day after I wrote her that letter, we had a conversation that changed everything. The things she said...” His voice trailed off and I saw that he was getting riled back up.

My throat tightened. “About me?”

“About everything,” he clarified. “It took my mother and I a long time to work through our past and she went from being so excited about meeting you to swearing she’d put an end to us if it was the last thing she did.”

I dropped my head in my hands. “I don’t understand. I don’t even know her. What happened to change her mind?”

“I have a feeling that someone didn’t take lightly to the rescission of our contract.”

“If you say that crazy woman’s name-” I left it unsaid as I heard his mother’s shoes click excitedly as she breezed back into the room.

“Why don’t we just cut to the chase?” she said, dropping the niceties. She walked to the island and opened her clutch, pulling out a small rectangular case. When she flipped open the cover, my heart lurched to my stomach. Not many people carried them around anymore, but there was still no mistaking what was in her hand.

A checkbook.

“How much do you need to start your own business and forget this whole marriage thing, Leila?” She clicked her pen and poised the tip on the blank check. “Because the only way I’m letting you marry my son is over my dead body.”

––––––––

Part Eight

T
he room was dead silent, the uncomfortable quiet after a gasp reverberated around every square inch of the penthouse before settling back on me.

My lips were frozen in an O of shock and horror. My fingers gripped the edge of the table, glued to it like it was the only thing that was keeping me from falling right to the floor. I could only imagine the expression on Jacob's face. He'd been combative since his mother surprised us, stepping off her gilded throne to dash what would have been a great morning.

Alicia Whitmore eyed me patiently, like she'd just asked me for the weather and not the number that would make me walk away from her son.

"How much do you need to start your own business and forget this whole marriage thing, Leila?"

I closed my mouth and swallowed, feeling nauseous. Her proposition was just as vile the second time around.

I tried to steady my voice and managed to say something besides WTF. "Mrs. Whitmore-"

"Alicia," she interjected coolly, showing a crack in her glass facade. "I'm about to write you a check for more money than the average person will see in several lifetimes—I think we should be on a first name basis."

"You can't possibly think..." I covered my mouth, trying to stifle the cry that rose in my throat.
It's pretty obvious what she thinks of you, Lay.

"I think you're a smart girl.” She ran a quick hand through her short hair, black and gray layers fluttering back in place. “Industrious. Why else would you sign a sexual contract with a man you hardly knew?"

I could only blink, wide eyed and stunned. Her words were a slap across the face, the blow red and stinging. The last thing I wanted was to show her that her attempt at hurting me worked, but I couldn't stop the tears from flooding my eyes.

In a perfect world, I would have said that what Jacob and I had was more than words on a page. I would have told her that this was our home and she didn't have to like me, but she
would
respect me. And when she inevitably refused, I would have calmly stood up and ordered her to get out.

My head spun with all the things I had every right to say. My defense was on the tip of my tongue, ready to put her in her place. But I didn’t utter a single word.

I scrubbed my hands over my face, wishing this was all a dream. A nightmare. I knew meeting his mother wouldn't necessarily be pleasant. Jacob told me about her preference for the company of those worth more than God and in Alicia Whitmore’s book, everyone else was just there to wait on her hand and foot. I'd been prepared for snobbery. An air of condescension. But not this.

"Mrs. Whitmore,” I croaked, trying to find some way to tell her that I would never take her money and leave Jacob—without breaking down. “I don't...I
couldn't
..."

"I'm aware that this is probably a lot to digest, but I'm about to change your life, dear. Even the craziest number can be made a reality." Her eyes slanted to her son. "If Jacob is making you nervous, I could just leave it blank."

She said it so flippantly, like she was used to her pen making her problems go away. How many people found their name on that 'pay to the order of’ line? What astronomical number did they sell their soul for?

"Have you lost your goddamn MIND?!" Jacob roared, putting words to the hurt that rendered me speechless. Anger tightened his handsome features. His aqua eyes were scorching flames. His nostrils flared like he had red in his sights. His jaw was a razor’s edge, sharp and unyielding. He was in a t-shirt and lounge pants but he may as well have been decked out like a gladiator, blazing into the coliseum to defend my honor.

Alicia pursed her lips into a crimson line and turned her attention to him. "I've abided the reception I received since I stepped through the door Jacob, but I will not tolerate your attitude for one more second."

Jacob jerked up from the table. "
My
attitude? After you’ve come here and spoke of things someone like you could NEVER understand-"

I snapped out of my daze, jumping up and moving to him. Things had already been said that couldn’t be taken back and I didn’t want him to say or do something he’d regret. "Jacob, it's alright-"

"It couldn't be further from alright, Leila!" he snapped. "My mother has insulted us both." The rage in his voice changed, cutting deeper, hurt ebbing and weaving in his tone. "I'm used to being hurt by her, coming second to a man who couldn't stand the sight of her and believing that she regretted my very existence because the little time my father could spare had to be shared with me." He shook off my hand and took a step toward her. "I can take your bullshit. Years of dealing with it ensured my immunity to your poison. But I will
not
allow you to hurt Leila."

"Hurt her?" Alicia snorted. "I'm about to change her life!"

I whipped to face her. "No—Jacob changed my life. And not because he gave me a job, but because he gave me his love. I don’t want your money. I want your son." I crossed my arms, finally finding my voice. "I think you should leave."

She stood her ground. "I don't believe your name is on the deed-"

"But my name is," Jacob growled behind me. "You can go back the way you came or you can be dragged out of here kicking and screaming. I'd hate for security to dirty up your suit."

"You wouldn't do that,” she scoffed, flinging her bejeweled hand like his threat was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “Not to your mother. I’m your family."

His voice was cold as the grave. “What do you know about family? The nanny’s you hired so you didn’t have to put up with me were more family to me than you
ever
were. And Leila? Leila is all the family I need.”

I was speechless, my heart swelling in my chest. Hearing him say that...But the smile on my lips flatlined when I saw the horror rounding Alicia’s mouth.

“You wouldn’t throw me out,” she said, repeating her sentiment from moments before. But her voice was different now. Unsure.

"I wouldn't bet on my mercy," he said icily. "Not when you've come to our home and had the nerve to ask the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with to stab me in the back for a blank check. Leave." His voice darkened. "Now."

Alicia rolled back her shoulders and held her head high as she slid her checkbook back in her clutch. Without another word to either of us, she turned on her heels and strutted toward the elevator. I held my breath until I heard the doors shut and it signaled it was going to the ground floor. When I exhaled, I was surprised I didn't crumble.

"Jacob..."

He spun me around to face him, holding me so tight that there was nothing but his arms, the warm musk of him, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.  A part of me just wanted to stay that way, wrapped up in him with the rest of the world a faint hum in the background, but Alicia's voice crawled back in. 

Why else would you sign a sexual contract with a man you hardly knew?

It was only one sentence but in those words were daggers that opened up old wounds, reminding me of the shame I used to feel over the way Jacob and I began and the reason behind my promotion. I’d already endured so many sleepless nights, terrified that all I’d ever be was a submissive. And even though I’d earned my keep at Whitmore and Creighton, the whispers and silence when I walked into rooms still got to me.

I could care less what Rachel thought of me, but Jacob's mother? Her animosity was devastating. Did she really think I was going to take her blank check, blow Jacob one last kiss and breeze out the door?

"She hates me," I said hoarsely, realizing how important her acceptance of me really was.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I knew she no longer supported us, but I never thought..." His grip tightened and I knew that he was hurting and he too was trying to escape in this embrace.

So I held on. I tried to relax. She was gone. He made it crystal clear that he loved me. It was all I ever wanted. All I ever needed. But this dread, this overwhelming sickness was still wrapped around my heart. This was more than just his mother. This was old shit. Mountains of drama that I thought was in our rearview mirror.

Rachel Laraby.

I pulled away, tilting my eyes up to meet his warily. "She's back, isn't she?"

His brows dipped into a frown. "Rachel—you think she's behind this?"

"Who else would send her a public service announcement, warning her that you were about to marry a gold digging skank?" I scowled. "That's classic Rachel."

He sliced the air with his arm, like he was banishing her from the room. "I don't want to talk about her. If she was trying to sabotage us again, her efforts were futile." He pushed brown corkscrews behind my ear, his hands framing my face. "It's me and you, Leila. Always."

I nuzzled his hand, closing my eyes tight. Praying for this feeling to go away. To let go of things I had no control over. I couldn’t make his mother like me. I couldn’t make Rachel disappear. But I had Jacob.

He was enough—he’d always been enough. But I couldn’t dull the anger flushing through my veins even though it was so clear that she wanted to get under my skin and make me doubt. Every second I spent thinking about her was a point in her favor—and right now, Rachel was winning.

They say laughter is the best medicine...I was betting on something else entirely.

I covered his hands with my own, silencing my worries. I focused on the man standing in front of me. "Kiss me."

He leaned down, brushing his lips over mine. "With pleasure."

When our lips collided, I breathed in his taste, warm with hints of citrus and mint. I gave into the flashes of desire uncoiling in my belly, clutching how right it felt to surrender to his mouth. I let his tongue roam and tease, melting into him as he caressed my lips with his own, clasping me to him like he needed this. Needed to forget the last fifteen minutes; to forget that she was back.

My eyes popped open and I pulled away. I wanted him, but I couldn't get images of Rachel's smirk out of my head.

The only way I'd get any peace would be if I talked to her. Not like before when I was worried about her mental health, trying to ease her into the fact that she'd never have Jacob again. I could care less if she couldn’t handle the truth—I was going to throw her face first into the fact that I was
not
going to let her ruin us.

His eyes skimmed my face, souring when he figured out why I'd pulled on the stony faced look of someone going to war. "Confronting Rachel is a bad idea, Leila. You know this is exactly what she wants, right? To get our attention? To get in our head?"

I moved past him, forgetting about breakfast and marching upstairs to put on some armor of my own. "Mission accomplished."

****

I
stood beside Jacob, squeezing his hand tight as the elevator dinged, the arrow illuminating and alerting us that Satan was in the building.