Cocky Romance: Chapter 19
Cocky Romance (Billionaire Dads)
Iâve never been good at feeling helpless.
I found out my one-night-stand knocked me up?
I gave myself a few days to panic and then went looking for him.
That ignorant buffoon didnât want to be a part of me or the babyâs life?
I shrugged him off and prepared to live life as a single mother.
Morning sickness made me allergic to the smell of gasoline?
I clipped my nose and kept working to earn my certificate so I could provide for my daughter.
Life tried its best to knock me flat on my face, but it never quite succeeded. Iâm stubborn like that. Crazy like that. Iâd rather foolishly charge on, believing things will get better than let the panic sink under my skin.
Dad called me his âlittle choo-choo trainâ because I keep chugging at my own pace, no matter what. Itâs a trait Iâve taken from my childhood and nurtured into life as an adult. If I just keep moving, if I just keep putting one foot in front of the other, I can make it through the darkness. I can push through the bad times. Itâs how Iâve lived my entire life.
Nothing stops me in my tracks.
Stopping is defeat.
And yet, here I am, frozen solid, while the world becomes a blur around me.
âToday, I will officially step down from Stinton Group.â
The man uttering those words has the most electric blue eyes and a square jaw chiseled by an angry sculptor. He clutches the edges of a podium, tan fingers digging into the wood.
Itâs Max.
But it canât be.
Because that version of Max is saying things the real Max would never say.
âThank you for all your support and please continue rooting for Stinton Group in all its ventures.â
Max gives the camera a long and cold stare. His icy blue eyes are like a punch to the gut. I curve my fingers over the phone as if I can touch his face.
Heâs wearing a grey suit that perfectly hugs his broad shoulders. His hair is brushed away from his forehead.
All business. All intimidating stares.
And yet heâs saying utter nonsense.
Resigning?
Max Stinton is leaving Stinton Group?
Thatâs like a fish deciding itâs âresigningâ from the ocean.
Ridiculous.
It canât live anywhere but under water. Itâs literally built for it. Thrives in it.
A fish out of water isnât a fish.
Itâs sushi.
I dig my fingers into the phone, my head throbbing harder.
Why would he do that?
Why would he cut off his own limb?
The Stinton Group livestream goes dead and, immediately, my phone starts ringing.
I jump when I see Maxâs name sprawling across the screen.
My eyes widen.
The livestream just ended a second ago. Did he walk off the stage and immediately call me?
I quiet my thrashing heart and send his call straight to voicemail.
No, I canât be distracted by that.
He lied to me.
I bared my heart to him. Gave him the perfect opportunity to admit the truth.
Rather than be upfront, he chose to hide behind lies.
Coward.
So what if heâs resigning? Iâm not going to assume itâs because of me. I definitely will not allow this gesture to make my heart waver.
Whoâs to say this isnât just another manipulation tactic by Stinton Group? Maybe Trevor and Max sat together and concocted this plan in order to introduce Trevor to the world again. Max isnât above dirty deeds like lying and twisting his words until they become something beautiful and distracting.
He was able to fool me once, but Iâm smarter now.
Iâve been bruised by love and Iâ¦
I donât realize Iâm crying until I taste something salty on my lips. The phone shakes in front of me because Iâm trembling so hard.
It rings again.
Max.
I wish I could turn it off completely, but I donât want to risk missing an emergency call from Bethâs school.
Sucking in a sharp breath, I set the phone back in my purse, dry my face, and pop my car open. The auto shop looms before me with its giant doors and shiny glass panes.
My thoughts turn to Max again.
I officially step down from Stinton Group.
His voice hadnât wavered while he made the announcement, but it must have cut him to even utter that sentence. He shut his eyes to decency and let the darkness consume him just to protect that company. He worked like a maniac to bring Stinton Group to the heights of power. And itâs a legacy he protects at all costs, even if it means tearing someone else down.
Now heâs just⦠letting it go?
Do not let him get to you, Dawn.
I force myself to keep moving even though all I want to do is drop to my haunches and cry. That first step is hard, but I keep putting one foot in front of the other until Iâm standing in the garage.
Marco and the other mechanics all stop what theyâre doing to watch me.
Clint pokes his head out of his office. The moment he sees me, he gives me an up-and-down survey. Itâs my first time arriving at the garage in âcasualâ clothes. No matter how packed my schedule, Iâve always worn my over-alls or a jumper when I go to the shop.
Itâs a habit. Just being near a car makes my hands itch to get under the hood and diagnose it. Iâve never missed an opportunity to work in the garage.
Except today, I didnât come to tinker with an engine.
I came to hand in my resignation.
Clint glances at the envelope in my hands and his face turns pasty white. Flinging his arm toward his office, he croaks, âLetâs talk in here.â
The entire workshop stops and stares at me.
I give Marco and the guys a nod before trailing my manager into the office.
Clint flops into his chair and wags a finger at the envelope. âDoes it have to come to this, Banner? Do you have to walk away when this place is perfect for you?â
âI can fix cars anywhere,â I say, playing with the edge of the envelope.
âYou told me once that Cross Roads Auto felt like home.â His eyes burn into me. âHas that changed because the name became Stinton Auto?â
âI wasnât at home because of the shop, Clint. It was because of you.â
His eyes flicker. His throat bobs.
âYou looked after me without making it seem like you thought I was weaker. You allowed me to bring Beth here in the evenings so I could keep an eye on her and have peace of mind. You treated us like your familyââ
âYou are family, Banner. Which is why I canât accept this.â He shakes his head.
âYou donât have a choice, Clint.â
âCanât I change your mind? Even if this place is owned by Stinton Group, itâs managed by me. I wanted someone I could trust to take over.â
âIâm sorry. I canât work under Stinton Group any longer.â
âSo no more commercials?â
âNo.â I shake my head. I donât care what Max says. If he tries to push the contract at me, Iâll shred it into tiny pieces and shove it down his throat.
âWhat are you going to do now?â Clint asks.
âThere are tons of opportunities.â My voice has a cheerful tone, but thereâs a line of unease beneath it. Iâve never been good at faking how I feel. Especially in moments like this one. Especially when something this beautiful comes to an end. âEvery automotive network is clamoring to give me a show. And other garages are trying to poach me left, right and center.â
Clint pools his fingers together and slides them over the desk. His pale hands are lined with callouses. Hard and square. The hands of an honest, hardworking man. Because his skin is so pale, the stains on his hand and under his fingernails are more apparent. Clint doesnât bother to scrub it off anymore. Itâs there. Like a part of him. A tattoo of love and labor.
âBanner, I ask you to think this through.â He spreads his hands toward me. âPlease. I donât want you to make a permanent decision on a temporary feeling.â
âI have thought it through.â My chin wobbles but I still push it up. âNothingâs going to change my mind.â
âIâm worried about you.â
âDonât be. I have more job offers than I know what to do with.â I slide the resignation toward him.
âIâm not talking about what youâll do next. Youâre smart and youâll succeed at anything you put your mind to.â
My heart thumps. âThank you, Clint.â
âWhat Iâm talking about is suddenly cutting ties with Stinton Group.â
I stiffen. âItâs not going to be a problem.â
I hope.
âThe company was brutal enough to send that binder here. They wanted you to find out what Stinton had done in the most cruel way possible. If they can do something like that, if they can play dirty games like that, what else are they capable of?â
âIâm not afraid of them.â If Max tries to keep me locked in the contract after what he did to me, heâs not even human. âIâve never been afraid of Stinton Group and their corruption. Max canââ
âYou think Iâm worried about Max Stinton?â
I blink slowly.
Clint huffs out a breath that shakes his entire body. âOh no, Banner. This is way beyond Max Stinton.â
âWhat are you talking about?â
âDo you seriously not see it? That bomb wasnât for you. It was for him.â
His words slam me down like a wrestler dragging his opponent to the mat.
A light bulb goes off.
Clintâs right. I was too emotional to recognize it, but the way the binder got into my hands was strange. It very clearly wasnât Maxâs doing. Someone wanted me to find out who he really was and what heâd done. They were weaponizing Maxâs secrets. Turned it into a bomb that exploded between us both. It doesnât make Max any less guilty, but it does prove that I canât let my guard down thinking this is over.
âWhatever Max Stinton did and whatever darkness is inside him, thereâs someone above him that would make Max look like a Boy Scout.â Clint taps his finger on the desk. âDo you understand me? Thereâs someone even worse than Max Stinton who has you in his crosshairs now. And he just took out the one man who was capable of protecting you.â
I shudder. âYou saw the press conference too?â
âItâs everywhere. Max Stinton resigning from Stinton Group is like a chocolate M&M turning into a skittle. Doesnât make sense.â
I blow out a breath as my mind whirs.
Clintâs chair creaks in the silence. He gets up and rounds the desk. âDawn,â he calls my name softly, âI donât know what happened between you two, but⦠are you sure that Max Stinton was the one who gave those orders?â
âYes.â I swallow past the lump in my throat.
âIâm guessing you two arenât together anymore.â
I blink rapidly. âIâd be crazy if I was still with him.â
âHow have you been handling?â
âGreat.â
Awful.
I canât sleep.
I canât eat.
Iâm putting on a brave face for my daughter but, inside, I feel hollowed out.
At least I havenât cried anymore. Seems like I emptied my entire body of tears that day in the farmhouse.
âYou know that Iâve got your back, right? Whatever you need.â
I smile painfully.
âNo matter what the Stintons try to do, Iâm here for you. Weâre here for you. We might not be a big conglomerate with an army of lawyers, but we protect our own. Just because we fix things for a living doesnât mean we donât know how to burn things down.â
I laugh. âIf I were a hugger, Iâd give you a big one right now.â
âItâs alright. I feel it in here.â He taps his chest. Slowly, painfully, Clint reaches over the desk and takes my resignation. âYouâll always have a home here, Banner.â
I sniff and turn away from him.
This garage was my refuge but now, when I see this place, the glass pane looking out of Clintâs office, the lift and the tool trolley, all I see is Max.
Thereâs a black van waiting outside my apartment when I get home.
I give the strange vehicle a stink eye. Itâs taking up three parking spaces.
Talk about obnoxious.
I climb out of my truck and give the van a wide berth as I head toward my building. Suddenly, the van door screeches open and two bulky men leap out.
My alarm bells start wailing.
I dig my fingers into my purse, taking stock of them from the corner of my eye. The beefy guys are heading right for me.
Is this a kidnapping in the middle of the day?
I quicken my steps, my eyes on the front door and my heart pounding desperately. What if Clint was right about someone above Max wreaking even more havoc on my life? What if the lines that mysterious âbig bossâ draws are worse than Maxâs rock bottom decision-making?
The men are practically breathing down my neck.
Iâm still too far from the door.
Deciding retreat isnât going to work for me, I whirl around and swing my purse at the beefy guy on the left. My bag connects with his shoulder and bounces off him like a penny at the base of a mountain.
The musclehead doesnât even flinch. Instead, he studies me. âMs. Banner?â
Fear builds in the back of my throat, but they havenât nabbed me yet. Maybe thereâs still time for me to outsmart them and make a run for it.
âWhoâs asking?â I snap.
âGeorge Stinton. He would like to have a word with you.â
Everything in my body goes still.
George Stinton? Iâve heard that name before. Long ago, when I was doing my research on Stinton Group to find a way to get in touch with Trevor, I looked up the company. George Stinton was plastered all over the company website. There was even a video of him talking about how he âtook a small loan of five hundred grandâ and âbuilt this company from the ground upâ.
Rich kids.
âHere.â Musclehead Number Two lifts a cell phone at me.
I take it hesitantly. So far, Iâm not getting body-snatching, kidnapper vibes from them. If their intent was to abduct me, they would have done it by now.
âHello?â I grumble.
âMs. Banner, this is George Stinton. Iâm sorry for the scary looking men in front of you. I would have sent a nicer welcoming party, but I didnât think youâd pay as much attention.â
My nostrils flare. âSo you sent your goons to try and intimidate me?â
âAre you intimidated? I sincerely doubt that.â He chuckles.
I hate him on sight.
Well, technically I havenât seen him yet.
I hate him at first sound then. His voice is a thick and scratchy worm in my ears. Thereâs a seedy undertone as well, as if heâs spent too much time in a musty cell, cooking up ways to wreak havoc on the city.
âIâd like to have a meeting with you. I simply sent a car and a few companions.â Stinton laughs. âDo you have time, Ms. Banner?â
âIf I said I didnât?â
âIâd ask you, politely, to make time.â
âI donât work for Stinton Group anymore.â
âOh, on the contrary, Ms. Banner, I have a contract in front of me that says you do.â
My body goes rigid.
My breath hitches.
Did Max hand the contract over to his dad? Did he run and spill all about Beth the moment our relationship crashed and burned? Is this his revenge?
A blistering rage bubbles in my chest. I donât want to believe it. I hope the man I fell for isnât such a backstabbing beast, but I canât even find a convincing argument. Max lied to me. Whoâs to say he isnât that cold and heartless?
âGet in the car, Ms. Banner.â
âMy afro canât fit in a burlap sack. In case you were thinking of trying to put something over my head,â I bite out.
He laughs. âOh, I can see why Max was so enchanted by you. What a biting wit you have.â
âI have biting teeth too. In case you want to test me.â
His chuckle makes me want to stick a pen in his shoulder. Not enough to make him bleed. Just enough to make him bawl out in pain and acknowledge his own mortality.
âIâm looking forward to this, Ms. Banner.â
The line goes dead.
Stomach roiling, I follow the beefy men to their van and get inside. Thereâs no blindfold or burlap sack over my head. Instead, thereâs sparkling water, champagne and snacks in the back of the luxury van. The vehicle seems like one that transports celebrities. The windows are tinted and thereâs so much room in front of me that I could fit a bathtub between me and the front seat.
I donât touch any of the snacks.
Iâm not in Cinderellaâs pumpkin carriage.
Iâm in a gilded cage.
On my way to Stinton Group, I text Sunny and Kenya to let them know where I am. Just in case my body washes up in the river tonight.
The muscleheads escort me all the way to Maxâs office, as if theyâre afraid Iâll vanish if they take their eyes off me for a second. I guess a man as calculated as George Stinton would assume Iâd be the type of guest whoâd run.
Which I would.
As I walk down the familiar hallway, I grit my teeth and force myself not to think about Max. Or why George Stinton is using Maxâs office to hold his meetings. Or why Hills looks at me with surprise in his eyes when he sees me being escorted in by the beefy guys.
Without a word, Maxâs best friend ducks his head and pretends he didnât see anything.
A flash of hurt zips through me.
Yeah, I know Hills and I arenât exactly friends, but the fact that he doesnât care at all about whatâs happening is a blow.
I have enemies on all sides here in Stinton Group.
One of the beefy guys opens the door and I strut inside. Sure, I might be shaking slightly, but Iâm not going to let George Stinton see. He already thinks he has the upper hand because of that stupid contract. I have to make him see that Iâm not some doll he can jerk around.
âMs. Banner.â A tall man with greying hair and Maxâs sharp blue eyes lounges behind the desk. He unfolds himself from the chair and prowls toward me with the grace of an aging panther.
I can see why Maxâs mother would fall in love with him. Heâs practically rolling in dark charisma.
Thereâs a similar intensity in Max, but itâs tempered by the tiny glimmer of kindness that Stinton Group never managed to snuff out. While Max had some lines he wouldnât cross, I get the feeling that his father would cross all of them and laugh about it.
âDonât look at me with such fierce eyes, Ms. Banner, Iâm not going to hurt you. Why would I? When youâve done such good for Stinton Group. When youâre family.â
My eyebrow pops so high it almost explodes off my face. I jut a finger to the space between us. âWe are not family.â
âOn the contrary, my granddaughter is the tie holding our little world together. Thatâs especially true for Trevor.â
I start trembling at the mention of Beth. âI donât care who you are, you conniving old man. You do not talk about my daughter as if sheâs a bargaining chip.â
âOh? But it was fine when Max did it?â He chuckles and leans against his desk. âYou know, Ms. Banner, I really donât respect a hypocrite.â
The poison-tipped arrow hits its target. I flinch. âWhat do you want?â
âI gave you a few days to settle in to the new normal, but now itâs time for us to work out our next steps. Iâd like to discuss what happens next between you, Trevor and Stinton Auto.â
âThere is no me and Trevor.â
âAccording to the paternity test that you will be legally obligated to take, there is.â He smiles sharply. Itâs the bloody grin of a lion who just tore into an innocent gazelle, dangerous and disarming.
I knew I was walking into a trap.
Panic billows in my heart. I latch on to anything I can to keep the upper hand even though it feels like Iâm grasping at straws. âThat contract protects Beth. It says that she shouldnât be mentioned to the press or to the family.â
âMs. Banner,â he picks up the contract and dangles it in front of me, âyou really should read the fine print before you sign things.â His eyes glitter. âItâs true that we canât mention anything about Beth to the press, but you can. And you will. Unless you want us to start talking about custody battles and lawyers.â
I canât breathe. Even so, I donât waver and fight back with all my might. âTrevor is a train wreck. No self-respecting judge will give him parental rights.â
âNo, but we can make it very ugly, very quick. We can start pulling out your dirty laundry one-by-one. And then we can go to your dadâs laundry. Re-open that investigation on how your mom died in that car accident. Didnât he always believe it was his fault for misdiagnosing her car and sending her out into an icy night?â
I launch myself at his desk. âThe police cleared him of the charges.â
âYes, but he always carried that guilt with him, didnât he? Wondering if the police were wrong and if the accident was his fault.â
My body trembles.
The owner of Stinton Group is dirtier than I could have ever imagined and the depths heâd go just to get his way makes me shudder.
âI was right to keep Beth away from this family. Youâre all disgusting, low-down animals.â
âNo, Ms. Banner, weâre your disgusting in-laws. For as long as you and Trevor both shall live.â He chuckles. âOr at least, for as long as I hold on to this contract.â He taps the page. âYou are the face of Stinton Auto. And Trevor is the new CEO of that company. Whether you like it or not, you are contractually obligated to do interviews with him. And if the interviewer happens to bring up your daughter, youâre going to answer in a manner that is positive for Stinton Group and for Trevor. Are you understanding the picture Iâm painting?â
I am.
And itâs like a noose tightening around my neck.
When Max had control of me, the rope wasnât so itchy. It didnât burn. There was still room to breathe.
But George Stinton is out for blood.
I wonât have anything left when heâs through with me and, even then, heâll find a way to pick off my carcass and make a stew of my bones.
I donât have a choice.
âThatâs right.â He croons like a vet who just shot a frantic horse with a tranq. âYouâre a smart woman, Ms. Banner. You know what youâre up against here.â He flutters the contract again and tucks it into a binder. âNow, shall we discuss your first joint appearance withââ
The door bursts open before he can utter another word.
Max storms in, looking like an unleashed tiger with his blue eyes bright enough to burn me. Heâs still wearing the pristine grey suit from the press conference, but his hair is wind-torn and limp. I look closer and notice the sweat dripping all over his forehead in punishing drops.
Did he run here?
My heart jumps in my throat.
Oh, no.
Iâm not looking at Max to save me.
Iâm not going to give him that benefit of the doubt.
Stupidity doesnât look good on me.
Neither does blind hope.
He walks forward.
Every step drives me further and further into a whiplash of confusion and longing.
He lied to me.
But screw it.
Iâm happy to see him because the devil I know is better than the devil I donât.
Max stops in front of me, his blue eyes tearing me apart. âDawn.â He says my name so raggedly, so intently, that it turns me inside out. âAre you okay?â
I glare at him.
George Stinton keeps his cool, but thereâs a tremor of displeasure in his voice when he says, âWhat are you doing here, Max? I donât remember inviting you to this meeting.â
Max ignores his father.
His gaze remains on me for a beatâlong, heavy and assessing, as if he wants my fury to burn him. As if he wants to feel that pain.
That look sears me all the way to my heart and it feels like heâs touching me even though he hasnât moved his arm once.
Finally, he turns to his father. âI told you not to drag her into this.â His voice is darker and harsher than Iâve ever heard it. It makes me shudder.
George Stinton sighs heavily. âYouâre the one who dragged her into this, Max. Now, Iâm here. And youâre no longer a part of Stinton Group. This matter doesnât concern you.â He juts his chin at the door. âLeave before I have you escorted out.â
âActually, thereâs something I need to discuss with Ms. Banner.â
The tension in the room spikes to a dangerous level.
âYou donât have anything to discuss with her.â George Stinton pins Max with steely eyes. âDidnât you renege all rights when you officially resigned?â
I gasp. So⦠Max isnât in cahoots with his father.
He really cut off ties with Stinton Group and walked away?
âI might not be involved in Stinton Groupâs affairs anymore, but this pertains to Ms. Banner and the contract.â He marches past his father, brushes the old man back and opens a drawer. Pulling something out of the depths, he lifts it to the light. âBefore I left, I knew I needed to tie up loose ends.â He snaps the drawer shut and walks over to me. âMs. Banner,â he places the document in my hands while staring me in the eyes, âI officially release you from your duties as the face of Stinton Auto. You have more than fulfilled your contractual obligation and as promised in the original contract, no one from Stinton Group is allowed to come near you again. Iâve also forwarded the compensation for your efforts to your bank account.â
My fingers close over the document, but I donât look at it. Iâm stuck staring at Max. On the phone screen, heâd looked as intimidating and dominant as ever. But up close? He looks⦠horrible. Like he hasnât slept a wink in weeks. Dark bags hug his eyes and wrinkles that were never there before deepen around his lips.
âYou canât do that!â George Stinton sputters. âYou have no authority. Ms. Banner made a contract with Stinton Group, not with you personally.â
âI had authority when I drafted the contract. And I had authority yesterday when I got this document notarized. The one who represented Stinton Group until,â he checks his watch, âthree hours ago, was me.â Max turns and gives his father a hard stare. In quiet, cool tones, he growls, âYou donât get to tug her around anymore, dad.â
A flush spreads over George Stintonâs cheeks. âYou think this will end here, Max? Do you think resigning from Stinton Group makes you any less of a Stinton? You canât shift loyalties this late in the game. No matter what sweet nectar you think is between her legs, it wonât change the fact that you are and will always be a Stinton. You will always belong to this family.â
âI belong to myself,â Max says firmly.
My heart skips a beat.
He stands straight and tall, pushing through his exhaustion to fight his father.
For me.
I donât want my heart to flutter, but it does.
Clearing my throat, I step forward. âMr. Stinton, I went along with your ridiculous kidnapping today because you are, technically, Bethâs grandfather. However, if you come after my child, I will stop at nothing to hunt out every dirty deed youâve ever done in your life. I will plaster it over the newspapers and online and on every hilltop I can find. You made me into a star. You made me Stinton Groupâs darling, and I will use the fame you gave me to rip this company to shreds, even if it means I get burned in the process too.â
His eyes almost bulge out of his head.
He looks like he wants to throw a stapler at me.
I hold my ground. âIâm going to assume this talk about âowning meâ is over,â I flap the new contract the way he did the old one, âsince you love and respect legal documents so much, Iâm sure youâre not going to contest this.â
Chest heaving, George Stinton stalks past me and stops in front of Max. âWeâll talk about this later.â
âNo, we wonât.â Max frowns. âWe have nothing more to talk about.â
George Stinton laughs, but itâs devoid of all humor and joy. He points a finger at me. âDonât blame me for what happens next.â
âIs that a threat?â
âJust wait and see.â
I scowl as he flees the office like the coward he is.
Silence descends, swift and heavy.
I look into Maxâs eyes.
He saved me yet again.
My heart is pounding and Iâm grateful, but I still taste the burn of his lies on my tongue.
Nothingâs changed.
He still lied to me.
And I still donât trust him with my daughter or my heart.