Heat_A Stone Billionaire Series Novel Read online

  His hands grip my hips, and I cry out in pleasure as his cock drives me into all sorts of crazy places, ones where I can’t get a grip on reality.

  Then all at once, I’m undone in his arms, and I scream his name.

  My body shakes underneath him as I feel the last of him spill inside me and I’m just done.

  Done with my attempts to fight him.

  I lay in his arms as we recover, and I know I need to reach out to him, I need to ask for help.

  But I’ve already betrayed him, and I don’t think that he will understand why.

  No, I know he won’t.

  Even if that was before I knew him.

  “I love you,” Evan whispers in my ear.

  He bites on my earlobe gently, and a shiver runs down my spine.

  Despite my knowledge that I shouldn’t say it, the words escape my lips anyway.

  “I love you, too,” I tell him slowly.

  The grin that spreads across his wide jawline is something that makes my head spin.

  “I knew it,” he teases me.

  “Right,” I tell him with an eye-roll.

  “I did,” he pulls me against him.

  “I always did,” he whispers.

  Evan’s whisper fades into another kiss.

  Day bleeds into the evening but we don’t dare move because anything could burst the bubble of happiness, and neither of us wants to risk that.

  16

  Evan

  December 30, 2017

  When my eye cracks open the clock says three in the morning, and I groan.

  I hear another knock at the door of the suite.

  That’s what woke me up.

  I stumble out of bed, stub my toe, swear a little and pull my pants back on before I shuffle towards the front door.

  When I open it, Lucius is in front of me, soaked to the bone.

  It must be raining.

  “What are you doing here?” I yawn.

  “Heard you needed help,” Lucius grunts.

  “So, you just happened to come to Hawaii?” I ask.

  “No, I had holiday plans, which everyone seems intent to ruin,” Lucius grumbles.

  Right, the mistresses.

  “Good man,” I mumble.

  Then I drop down onto the couch, and Lucius sits across from me in one of the chairs.

  “What’s going on?” he asks.

  “We’d better go for a walk,” I say.

  I motion towards Grace and Isaac’s door out with a sidelong glance.

  “A walk? It’s a tropical downpour,” Lucius begrudges.

  Then, he scans my line of vision and nods.

  “Then again, I love the rain,” he sighs.

  We both step out onto the patio and walk a few feet until we’re in the sand being pelted by big fat drops of rain.

  “You want to explain why we’re in the rain now, Evan?” Lucius asks with a growl.

  “Grace’s husband Isaac is in their bedroom. I’d rather not alert him to how I want my dad’s head of security to look into him,” I explain.

  “That,” Lucius rolls his eyes.

  “Aidan told you, I suspect,” my voice barely carries a few feet.

  “He did, but I figured it was nothing. Send me a picture of the dope in case I need to match it to anyone,” Lucius demands.

  “Right,” I nod.

  “I’ll call,” he says mysteriously.

  Then he stomps off in the rain, in the direction of the main lobby.

  Maybe he’s going to get a room?

  Or are his mistresses are already waiting here?

  Who knows?

  It takes a while, but I fall back asleep.

  I have dreams of Vic being strangled and Isaac looming over me with a gun in his hand.

  The entire series of dreams is so outright disturbing that I barely sleep a couple more hours before I open my eyes and it’s near six in the morning.

  Vic is already awake in the kitchen, coffee in one hand, phone in the other.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask automatically.

  Vic looks up at me, and I can see she barely got any sleep either.

  “Evan,” her voice is grave.

  I know that voice.

  That voice is about to give me bad news.

  “What?” I ask nonchalantly.

  “I don’t think we should focus on us right now, there’s too much around us for me to give you what you want from me,” Vic says.

  “Damn! I knew that was coming!” I tell her.

  “You did,” she agrees with me.

  “Maybe…” she starts.

  “There’s no maybe, Vic! You either need me now, and let me in, or you don’t need me at all!” I tell her.

  I’m stung.

  Honestly, after last night I didn’t expect her to just turn around and tell me no, that she doesn’t want me.

  What the fuck!

  Is all of this in my head?

  It goddamn must be.

  “I didn’t say I don’t want you, Evan,” Vic says.

  “I said that the timing is all wrong, I need to focus on my sister and Isaac,” she lowers her voice.

  “If Grace gets in trouble, it’s because of me. I’m not about to let anything happen to the only person I trust in my family because I’m selfish and I’d rather focus on some boyfriend,” Vic interjects.

  “Yeah? Well, good then! I’m glad I’m just some boyfriend to you, nothing more than that! Or else one might think you have actual feelings!” I do my best to keep my voice level.

  But, I don’t think I am succeeding.

  “Evan that’s not fair!” Vic cries back.

  “It’s completely fair!” I tell her, eyes wide with rage.

  “In fact, it’s so fair, maybe we should just cut this whole trip short and head home. Lucius is here with the jet anyway, so we may as well,” I add.

  Vic’s shoulders slump for a moment, then straighten, and she nods.

  She takes a sip of her coffee, and then runs a hand through her hair.

  I watch her set the cup down and pull her hair into a ponytail before she slides her sunglasses on.

  “Whatever you want,” she says.

  Then, she says something I don’t expect.

  “I guess you have your answer,” she avoids my gaze.

  “That I do,” I tell her flatly.

  I.

  Am.

  Done.

  I’m done with my attempts to fight for a woman who apparently doesn’t care about whether I stay, or if I go.

  As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter if I love her.

  Love is bullshit anyway!

  Fuck some dumbass waiter and his stupid lost love crap!

  Fuck this!

  I storm off, and I decide I’m still going to help Grace.

  Because the last thing I want to do is leave Victoire in the lurch.

  As far as I know, Isaac could be involved with whatever my mother is involved in.

  There’s always more to the story.

  Maybe there’s something that Vic hasn’t said?

  Something she’s decided to keep from me for no good reason?

  That wouldn’t have surprised me before this trip, and it doesn’t surprise me now.

  Vic should know better.

  This only works if we don’t lie to each other.

  Fuck.

  Vic and Grace go for breakfast together, Isaac joins them, and I sit and sulk in the room until a now-dry Lucius appears.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he questions.

  “Vic and I broke up,” I tell him.

  Lucius dares to snort at me.

  “You broke up?” he says, incredulous.

  “This time it’s final,” I tell him.

  “I can’t keep up with the whiplash,” he says in a hoarse voice.

  I reflect that this was possibly the calmest break-up we’ve ever had.

  Usually, I’d fight her on it, explain to her that we need each other which generally
resorts to a shouting match until one of us caves.

  Then, we’d have sex in my office.

  Not this time, however, because I can’t do it.

  I won’t fight for something she apparently doesn’t want.

  “Did you find anything?” I change the subject.

  “Isaac works for a kingpin back in New York, that dabbles in everything from drugs to human trafficking, that’s about it,” Lucius tells me.

  “That’s it?” my reply is sarcastic.

  “You knew this, then?” he retorts.

  “Sorry,” I apologize.

  “Break-ups are hard,” Lucius tells me.

  I stare at him.

  He stands up and looks at a spot on the wall.

  “Why do you think I’m not divorced yet? My wife and I have been on the verge of divorce for years. Instead of calling it, we just live our separate lives. We get together once a year, for the kids,” Lucius says, offering something I didn’t expect.

  This is about as personal as he’s ever gotten with me.

  “How old are they?” I ask.

  “Oldest is turning eighteen, the others are fifteen and twelve,” he says.

  He rubs a spot on the wall.

  He shrugs.

  Then, he pulls out his wallet and hands me a picture.

  His wife is a gorgeous blonde woman, with her arms around the two younger kids.

  The oldest hangs from her back, like a giddy monkey.

  They’re a lot younger in this picture, the kids.

  What strikes me the most is his eldest child, a beautiful girl.

  She reminds me of Vic in a way, with blue eyes and a high blonde ponytail.

  It’s strange that one of his kids would remind me of the woman who broke my heart, since they don’t look that similar.

  My eyes must be playing tricks on me today.

  “They’ve all got your eyes,” I tell him.

  “Yeah, maybe I’ll get them back someday,” he says, chuckling.

  I look at him, not comprehending.

  “My eyes? They all have my eyes? Never mind, stupid joke,” he says, shrugging.

  I hand the picture back.

  “Thanks,” Lucius carefully puts it back in his wallet.

  “Isaac works for the mob,” I say, repeating Lucius’ earlier statement.

  “Correct. The question is, were they involved with your mother’s business before any of this? What does that have to do with Vic? Is it because she worked for your mother? If so, why aren’t they about to bother the other girls, like your sister, Ava?” Lucius summarizes.

  “Well, maybe we know the answers to half those questions?” I say.

  “Half?” Lucius asks.

  “Follow me, here, Lucius. Vic works for my father; my father and Corban were the ones who brought my mother’s whole operation to a screeching halt. Obviously, if they’re smart, they will not attempt to bother Ava, because she’ll just run to my father. I’m pretty sure he’d kill them himself. I assume they didn’t expect Vic would almost do the same,” I tell him.

  “Fair point,” is all Lucius says.

  I want to blame myself for all this, but that’s not fair to me, especially since I didn’t put the gun to Isaac’s head or make him marry Grace.

  Grace is just an innocent bystander in all of this.

  So, if I can’t protect Victoire from herself, the only thing I want is to protect Grace from the mess my mother has created.

  “I want a meeting with this guy,” I tell Lucius.

  “With Dom Ventretti?” Lucius asks.

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “And I want everything Aidan knows about him,” I add.

  17

  Victoire

  December 31, 2017

  There is some severe jet lag going through my system when I finally slog into my apartment.

  All the plants are wilted from lack of water, but otherwise, the apartment is empty.

  Evan and I have barely spoken since that morning in the kitchen.

  He said he wanted to leave early, so we went.

  Here I am, alone, on New Year’s Eve.

  Grace pestered me as soon as she could about why Evan and I suddenly broke up, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her anything.

  Just like Evan won’t tell me anything.

  Of course, Isaac has gotten the three of us tickets to some party at a fantastic club for tonight.

  Usually, I would be more than willing, but without Evan Stone by my side, everything feels different.

  I get the urge to call him as I set my suitcase in the hallway and check my messages.

  “Hey Vicky, it’s dad. Just calling to see if you made it in okay, call me back,” My dad’s voice rings through the air.

  He sounds drunk.

  I hit delete.

  Next.

  “Victoire, please call me,” Noah’s stern voice reports.

  Oh, that phone call is not happening.

  Now that Evan and I are genuinely done, can I even continue to work for Noah Stone?

  Should I really throw all my hard work away?

  I know I won’t even consider quitting, so I hit save on Noah’s message.

  I will call later.

  He doesn’t even know I’m back in the city yet.

  Unless Evan called his dad, which I also doubt.

  The jet lag is accompanied by an upset stomach, and suddenly I rush to the washroom, throw up bile, and count my blessings that I’m not pregnant.

  That’s not even possible, so I don’t give it a second thought.

  Until I realize my period is two days late.

  Jesus Christ!

  I know I won’t be able to sleep unless I know for sure, so I run down to the little store at the bottom floor of the building, grab a pregnancy test, and double back quickly.

  It’s one of those stupid digital ones, I realize after.

  So, even if it says negative, there’s a chance I could still be pregnant.

  While I wait, I consider running over to an actual drug store and picking up a bunch.

  Then, the little hourglass on the test stops spinning.

  Three to four weeks pregnant.

  I try to take a deep breath, and the world spins instead.

  How?

  I try to recount how Evan could’ve possibly gotten me pregnant on birth control, but there’s nothing I can think of.

  The pack of pills in my purse has no tablet missed, I’m always on time, and I never forget my pills.

  What does he have!

  Super-fucking-sperm?

  Is that a Stone thing?

  They’re all wildly fertile!

  I should’ve known nothing good would come of my relationship with Evan!

  We’re over.

  Done.

  Finished.

  But now?

  I’m pregnant with his baby!

  For fuck's sake, can I not catch a break?

  That’s when I hear a knock at the door.

  Instead of deciding to hide, I roll my shoulders, take a quick look in the mirror, and hope that my face isn’t too pale when I answer.

  I fully expect it to be Evan like he has a sixth sense for when I’m in trouble, but it’s Grace.

  “I’ve got your passport,” she says with a smile.

  “I didn’t want you to go crazy, so I figured I should bring it over. What are you going to wear tonight?” she continues.

  “Uh, I don’t know. A dress?” I say.

  I take my passport from her.

  “Thanks, you didn’t have to come all the way over here, you could’ve called,” I mention.

  “Yeah, but I barely got any alone time with you. I figured we could get ready together, then go down and meet Isaac,” Grace explains.

  “Sure,” I nod.

  “You look pale, is something wrong?” Grace notes my complexion.

  “Yeah, just jet lag,” I lie.

  And pregnancy.

  There’s that.

&n
bsp; Grace starts to rummage through my closet, and I covertly hide the pregnancy test in one of my cabinets before I join her.

  She holds up a specific blue dress that matches my eyes.

  “You should wear this, Evan is coming tonight, right?” Grace slips in Evan like I won’t notice.

  “What are the chances, he’s going to show up if a) he doesn’t know we’re even going, and b) we are completely, fully, one hundred percent, over?” I ask Grace.

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?” Grace pleads with me.

  “You two are so good together,” she adds.

  “We’re not that good together, and I have, as evidence, counselor, that we are broken up. If we’re broken up how can we be that good together, hmm?” I bounce back at my sister.

  “You’re being stupid,” Grace blurts out.

  She holds up the dress against me.

  It’s a little light blue bandage dress that’s going to look like absolute shit when I get bigger.

  I really do, I want to tell Grace that I’m pregnant, but I can’t tell her anything until I’m exactly sure how I feel about this pregnancy.

  “Vicky, seriously. Don’t be silly, and tell me that you don’t love him,” Grace says.

  She tosses the dress on the bed with a flourish.

  “I’m not being silly, there’s more to a relationship than just love,” I tell my sister.

  “Such as what?” Grace asks.

  My sister can be so vapid sometimes.

  I’m tempted to blurt out that her husband isn’t who he says he is, but I don’t want to risk it.

  I don’t even know what Isaac wants yet.

  For all, I know she could end her marriage and wind up dead.

  Or she might not even believe me, that thought has occurred to me as well.

  18

  Evan

  December 31, 2017

  My new apartment feels empty.

  It’s mine in every aspect, but without Victoire in my life, everything is dull.

  It’s very apparent now that I don’t just want her; I need her.

  “You look like a ghost,” Lucius comments.

  “Are you afraid of Dominic Ventretti? Because this isn’t at all necessary,” he adds.

  “I’m not afraid,” I tell him.

  Far from it.

  I want to speak to him to get to the bottom of what Isaac wants.