Her Lion Billionaire (8 page)

Daniel sat wordlessly next to the bed. He took Charlotte’s hand and squeezed it tight. Only this morning they’d made love, and he’d promised her he’d teach her something new. Now, watching her sleeping with so many wires and needles attached to her was surreal.

“Danny,” Anika started. “I’m sorry.”

He just realized that his sister had been with him for hours during the surgery. It was rare for Anika to show empathy like this, especially to his girlfriends. Actually, as he recalled, his sister had never been nice to his exes. Being the only girl in the family made Anika a little too competitive and attention seeking.

“I appreciate what you did for Charlotte,” said Daniel. “Thank you, sis.”

Anika touched his shoulder. “What can I say? She’s growing on me, this girl.”

“She’s special.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“I’ll have a judge grant me the power of attorney for her care. Then, I’ll fly to New York to retrieve her mother.”

Anika seemed to want to say something but decided against it.

“What is it?” he pressed.

“What if Charlotte’s mother doesn’t want to be an organ donor?”

Daniel stood up and released Charlotte’s hand. He didn’t answer his sister’s question. “Can I trouble you one more time?” he asked.

“Of course,” said Anika. “Anything.”

“Please watch over her until I get back. Charlotte doesn’t have anybody to support her in a time like this.”

“Of course. You can count on me.”

“Thank you, my dear sister.”

Chapter Eight

Charlotte woke up to the smell of coffee. Breakfast. A big breakfast. Bacon. Fluffy pancakes on the griddle. She found herself lying on the floor clad in a baby-doll dress made from linen like the one she used to wear in her childhood.

It took her a moment to recognize that this was the dress she used to have when she was a kid. Her mother, on a good day, had sewn a simple dress with the leftover fabric they’d found in Grandmaman’s attic.

She hoisted herself into a sitting position.

Where am I?

She looked around.

Am I dead?

She had no clue of her whereabouts. She wasn’t in any kind of room that made sense. The walls were white. The ceiling was white. The floor was white. It felt like she was sitting in the middle of nothingness save for a closed door a few feet away.

Charlotte bounced up onto her heels and her enthusiasm was rewarded with a slight feeling of vertigo. The world spun and twirled like the inside of a snow globe. She clutched her head and stayed still until she found her equilibrium.

Her eyes darted toward the door, which now stood slightly ajar, where the delightful aroma wafted and enticed her to get up. She followed the temptation without hesitation. Her stomach rumbled, and suddenly she felt very, very hungry. Famished almost.

She pushed the door open. The scenery changed.

She found herself in the old house. Grandmaman’s old farmhouse in Wisconsin, where she and her mother had lived for the first few years of her life. She’d forgotten about it, but now it all came back vividly. The peeling wallpaper. The scent of the recently waxed wooden floor. The rickety noises when she walked in certain parts of the house.

It felt like… home.

And it was good.

Charlotte hadn’t felt such peace in a long time.

She followed her nose and arrived at the kitchen.

A tall man with long black hair, dressed in a simple white shirt and brown khaki pants, was bustling around in front of the stove. With a spatula in his hand, he deftly juggled between flipping pancakes and juicing freshly cut oranges.

She’d never met him, and yet he seemed so familiar.

The slender man looked ageless. He had a beautiful face, too pretty for a man, and he looked inhuman. His dark brows were lush, his eyes inky black. A smile curved at the corners of his lips, and peace radiated from his being. At the moment, he emanated an aura of pleasantness, like a perfect summer day on the lake, but it wasn’t everlasting. At any moment, it could change, and a terrible storm could rage and wipe away everything in its path.

The man sensed her presence. “Hello, sleepyhead. I see you finally woke up. Get a seat and have your breakfast before it gets cold.”

The pancakes looked yummy. The milk in the tall glass practically begged to be drunk. She felt a compulsion to run to that man and hold him tight.

Charlotte fisted the fabric of her dress. “Who are you?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

The man paused. He beamed at her. “I’m your father. Don’t be silly.”

Ah. This explained everything. Well, kind of.

Charlotte obediently trudged to the table and took a seat. She’d just noticed that her hair was in twin pigtails. Red checkered ribbons adorned each one. One of the ribbons was undone, and the man who claimed to be her father fixed it with fatherly affection.

She blinked. She remembered the last thing recorded in her mind. About a car that had sent her flying into the rose bushes. The shock and the pain. The last moment of her life on Earth. Her throat tightened all of a sudden.

It took her dying to finally meet her father.

“Where were you all this time, Dad?” she asked. “I’ve missed you.”

The man, the Sandman, the Lord of Dreams, paused and smiled. His eyes were hooded. Sadness and sorrow were palpable.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, for not being around in your life. I wasn’t allowed to see you in person as much as I wanted to. But I have always been watching you. Looking after you from the Dreamscape. You don’t know how happy I am to finally see you face to face.” He stroked her hair gently. “My precious daughter. You have your mother’s eyes.”

Charlotte grabbed her father’s hand and pressed it against her cheek. It felt warm and comforting.

She’d resented this man her entire life. She’d vowed she wouldn’t forgive him even if hell froze over. Now she realized that she’d carried all that anger because she’d yearned for this moment. She’d grown up without him, with no father figure to look up to.

Charlotte Winters didn’t know she’d been starved of her father’s love.

Daniel Addington climbed down from the helicopter, eyes steely and face grim. His entourage in tow was equally perturbed. His silence made his underlings uneasy, and it showed on their faces. He’d worked them to the bone since he’d decided to petition a judge to grant him power of attorney for Charlotte. His staff had lobbied some politicians, judges, hospital administrators and some important people that could help smooth things over to help Charlotte’s cause. From his underground network, Daniel had also put a reward on the black market for organ donors in the event his quest to obtain them legally was unsuccessful. Daniel didn’t want to take any chances. He had to save Charlotte no matter what it cost.

And, he vowed with vehemence, if this accident wasn’t merely a coincidence, the guilty person would have hell to pay because he’d personally deliver the punishment.

He stood on the tarmac of the helipad on top of the Manhattan skyscraper he owned. His men waited, ready to escort him to his next destination—Bellevue hospital. Daniel wanted to meet Charlotte’s mother and personally ask for her help to save her daughter. The doctors at Bellevue had informed him that Mary-Anne had been in a catatonic state these past few years, but Daniel wanted to try anyway. Even though they wouldn’t be able to communicate, he wanted to pay respects to the woman who’d given birth to Charlotte.

The drive to Bellevue took almost an hour. It was past visiting hours when Daniel arrived. He was denied entrance by the security guards even though prior arrangements had been made with the facility director himself. His aide flustered as he took a hold of the situation. It turned out that the shift rotation had caused the problem; the fresh guards had no knowledge of the arrangement.

When Daniel brusquely headed to Mary-Anne’s room, the tension was high.

“Mr. Addington, excuse me, are you Daniel Addington?” called a man in a doctor’s coat when Daniel walked by the nurse’s station. His nametag read Dr. L. Greene. He was Mary-Anne’s doctor.

Daniel stopped. “Yes, I’m Daniel Addington.”

“It’s really you. We’ve talked on the phone. I’m Laurent Greene,” said the doctor. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person. Is there something wrong?”

“I’ve come to see Mary-Anne Winters. I believe you authorized my visit and approved the patient transfer.”

The doctor was flummoxed. “I don’t understand. Your assistant picked up Mrs. Winters about fifteen minutes ago. I signed the release myself.”

Daniel went rigid. “My assistant picked up Mrs. Winters in person?”

“Yes. Is there some kind of problem?”

“I did not order any of my men to pick up Mrs. Winters.”

Dr. Greene’s face became pale.

“How did this happen?” Daniel let his irritation leak into his tone. “I believe I clearly stated in our phone conversation that I would see Mrs. Winters in person.”

“Ah, yes. But then your assistant—”

“What’s his name?” Daniel interjected.

“Jackson. I just know him by his last name. Look, his credentials were properly documented. He wrote down his name in the visitor’s book—”

“I don’t employ an immediate assistant named Jackson. What does he look like?”

Dr. Greene became very uncomfortable. “Regular gentleman. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Normal build…”

Daniel signaled his security executive to handle the rest. “Dr. Greene,” said Daniel. His voice was kinder. “Would you show me Mrs. Winters’ room?”

“Absolutely.” The psychiatrist collected himself. “This way, please.”

Daniel followed Dr. Greene with firm strides. “How is Mrs. Winters’ condition as per your last assessment, Doctor?”

“Fairly healthy, I’d say. All vitals were within normal range considering she’d relapsed into her previous catatonic state.”

Daniel glanced at him. “Mrs. Winters still isn’t mentally coherent?”

“She’s in a catatonic stupor. She’s shown very little reaction when we introduced some stimuli. Although she has shown some symptomatic relief when we gave her the first line treatment of benzodiazepines. However, she needed a higher dose each time and soon her body became immune…”

She won’t be able to say anything if I ask her to help her daughter,
thought Daniel, ignoring Greene’s rambling. “Doctor,” he cut the psychiatrist short. “Can Mary-Ann Winters be a candidate to be an organ donor?”

Dr. Greene thought for a second. “I wouldn’t recommend it considering her age and the complications from the medication she is taking. Here’s Mrs. Winters’ room.”

One step in and a sense of dread smothered Daniel. The room was barely furnished. The table, chair and bed were bolted to the floor. No personal belongings were present anywhere. “Rather bare, don’t you think?” Daniel commented.

“A precaution we take considering her state of mind, and that she was institutionalized in the first place.”

The phone in Daniel’s jacket rang. Unknown number. He answered it nevertheless.

“Alpha,” greeted a familiar voice on the other end.

It was his brother, Jeremy. “Whatever you want, make it quick,” said Daniel curtly. He hadn’t forgotten the last time Jeremy had defied him in front of the family and members of the pride.

“You will make time for me, brother.” Jeremy’s voice was sly. “I believe you’re missing something—somebody actually.”

Daniel stilled. His jaw twitched. “You have Mrs. Winters?”

A pause. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Then what is it you want from me in exchange for Mrs. Winters?”

Jeremy laughed derisively. “My brother. A true businessman to the bone. Very well then. I want you to step down as the alpha of our pride and president of Addington Group. Take your little Dream Eater with you and never return. Do yourself a self-imposed banishment.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

“Wait, that’s it? No threats? No, ‘you can’t get away with this’ cliché routine Are you that desperate to save that woman of yours?”

Daniel huffed impatiently. “Jeremy, do you want to negotiate or throw insults? To be honest, I have no interest in the latter. How do you want to conclude our business? Charlotte doesn’t have much time left.”

“Have you had dinner yet? I’m famished. I just ordered a big juicy steak—extra rare. Meet me at Luger. Bring your resignation letter and your Addington share certificates. If I like what I see, I’ll deliver Mrs. Winters in time for surgery tomorrow morning in Harborview.”

“Jeremy, where is she now?” Daniel pressed. “Her health is delicate.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure Mrs. Winters is comfortable with not a hair out of place. As long as you keep your end of the bargain.”

“Fine. I need to know one more thing.”

“What is it?”

“Did you have anything to do with Charlotte’s accident? If you did, consider this deal annulled and prepare yourself for my wrath. I don’t care if you’re our father’s favorite son. I will destroy you and everybody who stands in my way—even your mother. Mark my words, Jeremy.”

A hearty laugh followed. “My, my, big brother. I haven’t seen you so fiery for a long time. I had nothing to do with the accident, but I’m an opportunist. When I heard what happened to Charlotte, I knew I had to do it. You can’t blame me for exploiting this rare opportunity. I’ve always known that a woman would be your downfall.”

Daniel gritted his teeth. He suppressed the urge to rend his brother’s face with his sharp claws. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

He disconnected and turned to the psychiatrist.

“I don’t mean to pry—” began Dr. Greene.

“Do not trouble yourself with my problems, Doctor. Everything is under control.”