Filthy Rich: The Billionaire's Baby (A Bad Boy Romance) (6 page)

She stood at the door with an open mouth. Detective Arnold strolled forward and closed the door behind her before placing a hand on her lower back (any lower, and he wouldn’t need an elevator to reach the ground floor) and guiding her towards the large oak desk where I run the world.

The detective pulled at his sleeve when she noticed his watch—Rolex, solid gold. Worth half-a-year’s salary at least—and his cheeks flushed red. He reached for the manila folder on the desk and pulled out a picture.

“Can you identify this man?” He asked.

Her eyes turned to the picture, and they soon widened.

“I’d recognize that red hair anywhere,” she said.

“This man claims that he was assaulted on Friday night…”

Sweat pooled on her forehead. Her breathing grew heavy, and her chest heaved up and down. My eyes moved to the detective, but he knew better than to stare at Allie’s jiggling breasts.

“Officer, I didn’t do this, I swear.”

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” He asked.

She pulled no punches. The kick to the balls, the bag to the head, the shoe to the face; she told him everything. I pawed at the box resting on my table as she swore innocence.

Allie looked to me for comfort, and I smiled.

“I’m aware of all of that Ms. Quinn. Mr. Davidson—the man in the picture—said the same. Except his statement didn’t end with you. It seems he was confronted by a stranger a few blocks from your apartment.”

“TJ, it must’ve been TJ.”

Detective Arnold looked to me for answers.

“The ex, the one I told you about.”

He nodded knowingly.

“No, TJ Flynn doesn’t match the description. Apparently, Mr. Davidson was making his way home when he was confronted by two men. He caught one name—Smith something or something Smith—but we’ve got little more than a muddy description of the other man. Tall, six-foot-three or so, with dirty-blond hair and a tailored suit.”

She looked to me again.

“Lo… Lou… Loui…” She stammered nervously.

“That was my first thought,” He continued, “Mr. Kingsley says the two had an argument in a bar a few hours earlier, is that right?”

Her eyes darted from me to him and back again. I smiled warmly and nodded.

“Yeah, sort of, kind of, it wasn’t much of anything really,” She said.

“Well, this man—this Mr. Davidson—says the man that attacked him and the man that berated him in the bar are one and the same.”

Wouldn’t go so far as to say I attacked him; more self-defense than anything, but I did lay a nice this-will-teach-you-a-lesson combo on him even after his hands had dropped.

“So there’s only one question I’ve got for you, Ms. Quinn,” Arnold said.

“Wh…Wha…What?”

“Do you want to press charges?”

Startled, her eyes flickered and danced around the room.

“For fuck’s sake, just get this over with, Rex,” I said.

Detective Rex Arnold exhaled on the face of his new Rolex watch before wiping it against his dirt-cheap suit. He wanted to interview her separately so that she wouldn’t see him for what he is, but I’ll be damned if I let him play with her emotions like that.

“Excuse me?” Allie said.

“This Davidson guy is nothing but trouble,” Rex continued, “You’re the first woman he’s followed home, as far as we know, but he’s made a habit of harassing waitresses; shit, the guy is barred from half the bars in the city.”

Allie’s nervous face worries me. I weave around the desk and wrap my arm around her shoulder. Taking the picture from her trembling fingers, I place the photo on my desk

“Louis, you did this?” She asked.

Rex smiled before plugging his ears with his fingers and turning towards the wall behind him.

“After what happened in the bar, I wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

“So you followed me?”

“No, not exactly. I followed him. He was watching us from across the street. Smith noticed him when he pulled up outside the bar. Caught him with his dick in his hand—literally—and I had a feeling that he didn’t want the night to end.”

She leaned in close and wrapped an arm around my back.

“I took care of it.”

“I know you did, Allie, I saw. The guy was wheezing and moaning and coughing. Smith pulled up beside him, and I got out. We were only going to give him a warning, but he swung for me. I think you dented his pride.”

“She dented more than that,” Rex laughed, his fingers still in his ears.

“Then why the cloak-and-dagger, Louis? If it was a fight, you should have nothing to hide.”

“My Dad isn't as understanding—or forgiving—as you. He’d see the headlines and the police report and assume I paid someone off.”

“Which you did,” Rex muttered as he twisted his wrist to show off his new watch.

“Outside,” I said sternly.

Rex’s hands dropped, and he marched towards the door and quickly disappeared.

Allie’s eyes searched the room and stopped at the large painting on the wall. Her fingers crawled along my chest, and she traced the ink underneath my suit.

“Your tattoos,” she whispered as her eyes met mine.

“Told you they looked cool,” I smiled.

She let go of my body and moved towards the wall.

“Lily Kingsley?” She asked.

“I told you she was the artist in the family. The damned thing is too big to carry around so…” I said as I rubbed my chest.

Allie rushed forward and pulled me close. The heat from our two bodies melted the large office, and our gaze only broke when the door creaked open.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Rex said, “but if you want to do this today when we need to go now.”

God, that man is annoying. Always interrupting. Loosening my grip on Allie’s waist, I leap towards the desk and pick up the picture and the box.

“What’s in there?” Allie asks.

“All in good time,” I said, “you go downstairs. Smith is waiting outside. We’ve got somewhere we need to be.”

“Can’t we go together?”

“I just need a couple of seconds with Rex.”

Allie lifts to her toes and kisses my cheek before leaving the office. I watch her the entire way.

“So, how much is this going to cost me?” I ask as Rex closes the door.

“Funny story. Just last week, I busted this guy selling fake luxury watches. And when I put on his handcuffs—when I tried to put on his handcuffs—I heard this clinking sound—“

The good detective pulls at the cuffs of his jacket and rolls up his sleeve; exposing the thick black hairs of his forearms.

“So I roll up this guy’s sleeves, and what do I see, but ten watches on each hand. At first, I thought ‘what the hell’, but now I’m starting to think it might be a good look for me, what do you think?”

My eyes roll.

“Fine, whatever, I don’t care. I would’ve suggested a suit, but what do I know.”

He grins wide as he reaches for his pocket. Rex snatches at a piece of paper poking out of his wallet before extending his hand.

“Another Rolex?”

“You know me so well.”

We press together in the back of the limo. Louis’s hand encases mine. A box and a picture rest on his lap. There are so many questions, so many things that I want to ask, but the backseat of a limo is not the place for a heavy conversation.

The tires screech and my head turns to the window.

“This isn't my place, I’m a few blocks down.”

Louis takes the box and puts it on my knees.

“What’s this?”

“Open it and find out,” he smiles.

I tear open the gold wrapping paper.

“My shoes!” I scream.

Jimmy Choo’s. The same ones I used to fend off that bug-eyed stranger. But new and clean and authentic.

“You left them in the street. One was broken so I sent my assistant out to pick you up a fresh pair; she was queuing up all day, I’ll need to buy her the same ones to get back in her good books.”

Tears burn my eyes. I wrap my arms around him tight, and the box falls to the floor. Rubbing my cheeks, I pick up my new favorite shoes only to find a smaller box inside the bigger one.

“What’s this?”

“You don’t need to say yes, not right away,” Louis said.

“What about being my boyfriend for life?” I ask as I open the box.

The shine from the large diamond is blinding, but I resist the urge to put it on.

“Allie, if I were to rank my life in hours, the last seventy-two would make up most of the top 100. I spent my whole life worrying about following in my father’s footsteps, and it never felt right. Let’s make our own path, together.”

We shared a deep kiss. Kicking off the black open-toe shoes that Louis had bought for my first day of work, I slipped on my new-old shoes.

Louis took the ring and my hand.

“Allie, will you marry me?”

“Yes, Louis, I will.”

Louis pulls me close and nibbles at my ear. The mere thought of being his wife fills me with want and desire.

“You’re so thoughtful,” I say as I pull away from his muscular arms, “but there’s one thing you forgot. You got the dress, and the shoes and the ring, but you didn’t get me any panties.”

Can you imagine, going commando on your first day in a new job.

“I didn’t forget,” Louis smiled.

I moved to climb on his lap, but he was quick to stop me.

“Hold that thought,” he whispered.

The door of the limousine opened, and Smith offered a hand.

“Ms. Quinn,” he said.

“Louis, this isn't my building.”

“I know.”

***

We climbed the stairs side by side. The hallway smelled of urine and cheap wine. Louis stopped at a door and banged on it with his shoe, scuffing the toe.

The door creaked open.

“How’s it going, shithead?” Louis said as he booted the door open.

TJ flew across the room and crashed against a table. Frozen, I stayed in the hallway, but Louis marched towards me and took my hand.

“You don’t need to run or to hide. Not anymore.”

TJ flopped on the floor and scrambled for the phone on the counter; Louis made no attempt to stop him.

“Look, man, I don’t know what she’s told you, but it’s fucking lies.”

“How do you know she’s lying if you don’t know what she said to me?” Louis said as he guided me into the apartment.

It was smaller than my apartment and smelled just as bad as the hallway. The sink was full of dirty dishes. There was a half-eaten bowl of cereal on the counter, and the other half was on TJ’s loose-fitting beer-slogan T-shirt.

When he was lurking in the shadows, TJ seemed so intimidating. Now, face to face, he looked like what he was—a boy. A scared kid face-to-face with a real man.

His sockets sunk into his face and his blue eyes were like murky water at the end of a well. His cheeks were full and red, and it was hard to tell where his chin ended, and his neck began.

Louis leaned against the fridge and smiled as TJ’s fingers squeezed at the phone.

“Maybe we should go,” I whispered, “You don’t want to risk getting in trouble.”

“Don’t make me call the police, man, don’t make me do it.”

TJ pressed a key and then another, but he soon stopped dialing.

“What’s going on here?”

All three of us looked to the door as a new voice seeped through. Boney fingers gripped the battered wood, and the door groaned as it inched forward. The sun hit the face of his watch, and the reflection caught my eye; blinding me for a second.

“Did someone call the cops?” Detective Arnold asked as he flashed his badge.

TJ’s eyes widened.

“Officer, this man just broke into my apartment.”

“Really? This guy right here?” Detective Arnold said as he pointed at my husband-to-be, “You must be mistaken. Louis Kingsley is a pillar of the community.”

“He broke into my fucking house!” TJ bellowed.

His scream shook me, but Louis pulled me close and steadied my nerves.

“Why would I take the word of a stalker and a woman-beater?” He asked as he closed the door and leaned back against the wood.

“You left this in the car,” Detective Arnold said as he handed Louis the manila folder.

Louis dragged at the nearest drawer, reached inside, and pulled out a red pen. He placed the picture on the counter and turned his back to write.

“I’ll…I’ll…I’ll…” TJ stammered.

“You’ll do nothing,” Louis said as he tossed the red pen into the sink.

With the picture clung to his chest, Louis walked towards the fridge. He took a magnet and playfully threw it in the air before pinning the picture up.

“Look, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” TJ pleaded.

My eyes traveled from TJ to the fridge where the picture of the red-headed man now hangs; the message
ICU2
scribbled at the top in red ink.

Taking my hand, Louis marched me towards TJ. Snot and spit and tears coated his face.

“Please, I’m begging you…” TJ muttered between whimpers.

“I didn’t know you could beg standing up,” Louis said.

Placing a single finger on TJ’s shoulder, Louis guided my stalker to his knees.

“If you’re going to do it then at least do it properly.”

TJ shook like a sapling in a hurricane.

Detective Arnold sniggered.

Louis was stoic and unmoving. He looked at me with steely eyes that said
you can do this.

Rubbing at the scar on my face, I glared at the cowering boy on the floor and felt no pity. That old Allie voice from California was gone, so was the cowardly girl that ran from the world.

“Allie. I’m. So. Sorry. It. Won’t. Happen. Again.” TJ said.

He struggled with each word. The room fell silent for a moment, but Louis soon broke it.

“Sorry for what?”

“For what I did to you…”

“Say what you did or I’ll do it to you with a cop watching.”

“And cheering,” Detective Arnold laughed.

“I’m sorry for hitting you… for beating you… I don’t know what came over me… I just,” TJ said.

Louis crouched down to meet his eyes.

“Nothing ‘came over you.’ You’re a piece of shit. The tears on your cheeks and the piss in your pants aren’t for her, are they?”

TJ didn’t respond so Louis continued.

“No, those tears are for you and nobody else. Let me tell you something, TJ, the only reason your face is wet with tears and not blood is because I met you on a Monday instead of a Friday. Because I met you after I met her. So you wipe those tears, and you change your underwear, and you get out of this fucking state, understand?”

TJ nodded.

Louis jumped to his feet. He held out a hand, and I gave him mine.

“Are you sorry?” He asked.

TJ nodded again.

“Then kiss the ring.”

Louis Kingsley rubbed his thumb along the large diamond of my engagement ring. The thought of pulling away never crossed my mind.

“This is less than he deserves,” He whispers.

“Too fucking right,” Detective Arnold muttered softly.

His cheek wet with tears and sweat, TJ leaned forward and kissed my engagement ring.

“You have one week to get out of this city,” Detective Arnold said sternly as I turn for the door.

***

“Thank you, for everything,” I said as Smith closed the limo door.

“Just doin’ my job, ma’am,” he said with a smile.

Clutching my knees to my chest, I rubbed at the heels of my new Jimmy Choo’s. My phone rang, and I reached for my bag.

“Anything important?” Louis asks.

“My alarm, my shift starts in 30 minutes,” I reply.

Louis wraps an arm around my shoulder and shouts to Smith.

“Not too fast, Smith,” He said, “No bumps.”

My mind drifts to Molly and her weekend alone. Denton promised he’d leave her alone, but she’ll take the brunt of his bad mood if I don’t show up for work. With a diamond worth more than a house on my finger, I squeeze Louis’s hand.

“I should get to Jammy’s. Molly will be worried.”

“I heard good things about you today,” He replied, “Great things, actually. There’s a new position opening up soon. A top floor position. And the job comes with perks.”

“But Molly…”

“It comes with an office—the one just next to mine—and a parking space. You even get your own assistant.”

The car slowed to a snail’s pace. Reaching for my seatbelt, I freed myself and lunged at Louis Kingsley.

We shared a deep, passionate kiss; it was the first time our tongues touched as fiancé and fiancee.

Climbing onto his lap, I pressed my body against his and forced his face between my breasts. His eager hands traveled up my legs and cupped my ass. He pulled my butt cheeks apart and sighed as he felt my heat against his crotch.

“How far are we from your place?” I coo as I nipple on his ear.

“In this traffic? Too fucking far. And it’s not
my
place anymore.”

My hand moves from his face to his body. I trace his tattoos from memory and think of the painting in his office. My hand dips lower, and soon I’m pulling at the zipper of his trousers.

“I don’t have any condoms,” He said.

“We don’t need any.”

I pull at his zip and reach inside. His throbbing cock is already hard, but much too long and thick to pull through the small hole. Letting go of my ass, Louis reaches for his belt, and soon it’s bouncing off of the window. My brand new Jimmy Choo’s fall to the floor as Louis opens the top button of his pants and reaches for his cock.

Wrapping his hand around the base of his shaft, Louis pulls out his cock and the swollen head pulls at my brand-new skirt. Leaning forward, I raise my dripping-wet pussy from his lap as and bring my lips to his forehead.

His breath is heavy, and his eyes are full of want. Sitting back, I grind my entrance against the tip of his cock. Taking a handful of his ash-blond hair, I pull his head back and stare into his eyes.