KIANA
If I thought Iâd seen Chase angry before, then I clearly hadnât seen him at his worst.
His eyes were dark, and I could hear the gritting of his teeth through his clenched jaw. His knuckles paled. He was gripping his glass so tightly it looked like it could almost shatter. His entire frame seemed to shake with the effort of keeping his anger from bubbling over the edge.
âI had him right thereâ¦â he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
âThereâs nothing you could have done, Chase.â I took his hands in mine, but they were so tight I couldnât get through. Instead, I encased them in mine. âI just want this all behind me. I just want him out of my life.â
âDid they know?â he gritted out hatefully.
âDid who know?â I asked.
âDid your father and Jackson know aboutâ¦?â He couldnât bring himself to say the name.
âNo.â I shook my head. âNo one knows about my attack. I hid it from my father, and I was scared that Jackson wouldnât help me if I told him. I was afraid that he would take his sonâs side and tell my father.
âJackson was the only person I could turn to for help, and I was too scared to risk that.
âAnd my father⦠If he ever found outâ¦â
âHe would what?â
After last night and everything that had happened between us, I knew I could trust him with the full truth. Besides, Iâd told him this much already.
I took a breath before finishing the last of Chaseâs drink. I needed the extra dose of Dutch courage for this last bit.
âAfter my attack, I went straight home. It was the one and only time in my life that I wanted my father. I wish I hadnât.
âHe didnât expect me to come home, so I knew heâd be working. I went to his officeâ¦
âIt happened right in front of me. My father pulled the trigger on three people who were beaten and bloody and tortured within an inch of their livesâ¦
âAfter that, I pieced everything together: what he did for a living, what paid for all the fancy things and luxuries Iâd happily taken for granted, the long business trips, the late nights, the excessive security, and forever needing a chaperone. All the secrecy and the fear he instilled in others with merely a few words.
âI ran before anyone caught me there, and I somehow managed to act normal for the next few days. I made an excuse about my injuries that he wouldnât question. Then I waited for all but the wound on my collarbone to heal completely before I went to Uncle Jack and asked him to help me escape.â
I suddenly broke down. Chase wasted no time in wrapping his arms around me and letting me sob into his chest.
It was a relief to unburden myself of this secret. Iâd carried it alone for so long.
After expelling something so traumaticâmemories and events that had held such power over me for all this timeâI was surprised to find I hadnât plunged into a full-blown panic attack.
Chase was rocking me slowly and soothingly, his hands stroking my hair and back as he rested his lips at the top of my head. He was consoling me in a way that no one ever had.
He had managed to make me feel safe enough to open up to him after years of suppression and attempts to forget.
This man truly was a diamond in the rough.
One of a kind.
He had gained a permanent hold on me in such a short time. And I was fortunate enough to call him mine. Even if it was only temporary, I would cherish the time I had with him.
I donât know when, but my tears ran dry, and my chest didnât hurt so much as it did before.
I pulled back ever so slightly, turning my gaze so I could see his face.
His expression was hard, as though he were holding in his own emotions, and I was truly grateful for that.
My eyes fell upon his lips, the briefest of ideas piercing my mind.
I donât know whether it was the alcohol that had given me the strength to ask, but by the time I had opened my mouth, it was already too late to take it back.
âKiss me.â
I could sense he was about to deny meâmost likely because he thought I was too vulnerable right now or not in the right state of mind.
Maybe he was right. Maybe this wasnât the right thing to do after everything I had just revealed. But I wanted to move on. I wanted to be selfish and take what I wanted without having to think of the consequences.
âPlease, Chase. Help me forget.â
He sighed in contemplation before his eyes brightened, returning to their mesmerizing hue of Caribbean blue. His hand, so gentle and warm, slid along my jaw and cupped me in a way that seemed far too sensual for a fake relationshipâbefore landing his lips against mine.
This kiss was strong, brimming with sensitivity and comfort. A new kind of sensation, intimate yet far from sexual.
This was a kiss that said he cared, that was reassuring me that everything would be okay.
I believed him. I didnât need his words to validate my thoughts. I simply knew. I couldnât explain how. I just knew it to be true.
COOPER
A fifteen-year-old girl vanished four years ago, leaving no clues about her abductor. The likelihood of her being dead increased with the passage of time.
The framed newspaper article about the innocent Rose Monroe sat prominently in the center of my living room cabinets. It was a decoration I was eager to showcase to all who entered, serving as the focal point of my modern display of awards, commendations, and accolades.
Rose Monroe.
Now going by the name of Kiana Rose Ailana.
The disguise of a struggling orphaned woman from low social status in league with a man like Chase Winters was almost laughable.
I recognized her date the second I had seen him. He was a well-known figure in the business world, and he was also a business associate of my fatherâs.
It only took a few simple searches and bam, there she was.
My Rose.
With the Winters boy in more than one photo.
Although you couldnât see her face, I knew my Rose well enough from every angle to recognize her anywhere. Everyone speculated they were datingâa thought that had me brimming with anger.
She had barely been with him a few months, and sheâd already put out. Yet she had made me wait over a year. And even then, Iâd had to take what I was due.
I could tell that she still remembered who was in charge, which meant I could continue the plan I had started all those years agoâ¦
My mother had a tendency to exaggerate the truth. She enjoyed the attention. It was a trait associated with âmental stability issues.â Only that was the âdiagnosisâ for someone who possessed exceptional abilities.
It wasnât fair, but the doctors compelled people like us to take medication to suppress our creativity and uniqueness.
In the beginning, they succeeded in brainwashing me. They convinced me my meds were for the better, and without them I would crumble.
That was why I didnât believe my mother when she first told me the truth: Jackson Smith was not my father, and I was, in fact, Mr. Monroeâs son. And Rose was Jacksonâs true child, the product of a long-term love affair with Mr. Monroeâs wife.
I thought it was just a silly story my mother had made up for fun.
I remembered the day that changed like it was only yesterday.
Like any well-behaved son would, I relayed my motherâs story to my father. Only, he didnât deny it as I expected him to. Instead, he asked if Iâd taken my medication and told me to go to my room.
Then I overheard my parents arguing about an affair. My mother accused him of sleeping with Roseâs mother, while he accused her of doing the same with another.
Their argument gave me enough belief in my motherâs story that I had to do some research of my ownâ¦
It all led me to the conclusion that Kenzo Monroe must be my real father. And Jackson was actually Roseâs father.
My mother was right. She wasnât crazy! Iâd only been blinded to that fact because of the medication my fatherâs doctors had forced me to take for so many years.
The problem was that no one believed us.
Those damn forensic analysts didnât believe me either. They said our DNA was not a match. That Kenzo wasnât my biological father.
But that had to be a lie. The samples must have been switched, or someone had paid them off.
It didnât matter. If no one would believe he was my true father through biology, then marriage would have to suffice. This newly discovered truth only solidified my desire to claim Rose as my own. I planned to take my rightful place at Kenzoâs side by making her my wife.
Sooner or later, he would accept me as his son. I could feel it in my bones.
Just as I knew that Rose was merely playing hard to get. She only claimed sheâd hated it when I took her virginity because of how bad she would look in Kenzoâs eyes.
I knew she wanted me. She always had.
She signed herself over to me the moment she turned fourteen and became my girlfriend.
I had a plan to get her back, to show her that she had always belonged to me. Only, I might need some help getting the boyfriend out of the way. And I knew just how to do it.
~Joanna Clark.~
A jealous ex who would do anything to get her billionaire boyfriend back.
I already sensed tension when I saw her confront Rose at the bar. I could use her to help me get my future wife right where I wanted her to be.
The woman wouldnât take much convincing. I knew her type. A promise of unlimited funds to fuel her revenge would be sufficient to get her on my side. And if that wasnât enough, the guarantee of Chase being single again would tip the scales in my favor.
Although I didnât think that would go as well for her as she hoped.
Before I put that in motion, there was one more thing I needed to do.
I picked up the phone, calling a number I had memorized by heart the day I learned the truth of my origin.
The person on the other end of the line picked up after a few rings.
I could already see the finish line of my flawless plan coming into sight.
âMr. Monroe, I found your daughter.â