Secret: A Stone Billionaire Series Novel (The Stone Billionaire Series Book 5) Page 3

  “Just this once!” he pleads.

  “Evan!” I say.

  My tone is a warning, but he persists as I scoot around him to rummage through my suitcase for a pair of underwear.

  “I need to fuck someone,” he says.

  “Then, go find someone to fuck! You idiot! I’m not here for your amusement,” I remind him.

  Suddenly, Evan grabs me by the waist and pulls me towards him.

  “Leigha, I’m asking you to do this for me,” Evan pleads.

  His intense eyes are hypnotic.

  It takes all my willpower to turn my cheek to him.

  His lips crash against me, sliding off my wet skin.

  He looks pained.

  “You’re numb,” I remind him.

  I tear myself from his grasp, and go back to looking into my suitcase.

  But, his touch has had a definite effect on me.

  “You want to use someone, go to a bar and pick up a woman, you don’t need me for that,” I say, sternly.

  I’m blunt with him as always.

  Evan swallows hard.

  Then, he wraps his arms around me in a hug and apologizes.

  I’m stunned into silence.

  He’s as much of a mess as I’ve ever seen him.

  “I’m sorry,” Evan repeats.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper.

  3

  Evan

  February 29, 2018

  Leigha not only resists my advances, as always, but she also forgives my transgression and just blows past it like it’s nothing.

  I feel like shit for doing that to her, but later it’s like it didn’t even happen.

  Her caramel-blonde hair is in its usual bun as she sits in my dad’s office with a cup of coffee in her hand.

  “So, Lucius was Vic’s half-brother? And her sister Grace is in New York? And Grace was married to Isaac Miller, who was involved with Ventretti, whom Elizabeth admitted to murdering,” she repeats everything my father has told her.

  Her summary elicits a nod from the great Noah Stone.

  “Yes, Leigha,” he says.

  “Well, have you thought about calling Grace? Maybe ask her if she knows where Isaac is? I mean, if Isaac was working for Ventretti, there must be some connection to Elizabeth. You don’t just murder the Godfather of the Mafioso in New York and simply get away with it,” Leigha says.

  “Grace?” I ask.

  “Well, who else do you have to call?” Leigha retorts.

  She doesn’t like having her intelligence questioned.

  “She could have a point,” Aidan says.

  “I do have a point,” Leigha defends herself.

  “What do you have, right now? You’ve got an MI6 connection that probably isn’t telling you everything. You know Miller is tied up in this, and you know he has a connection to Grace. Chances are they’ve probably talked,” Leigha adds.

  “What makes you say that?” My father breaks his silence.

  “Well, Evan mentioned that Isaac bought her a ring from Harry Winston - a diamond ring. Those don’t run cheap. Any man who drops that kind of money on a woman he’s supposedly just using may have more in mind,” Leigha explains.

  Lucius and Aidan stare at her.

  “Lucius, how much was the ring you bought your wife?” Leigha asks, bluntly.

  I see something I don’t think I believe – Lucius turns beet red in embarrassment.

  “Point made,” he mumbles.

  Leigha looks at me and gives me an “I told you so” shrug.

  “I’ll call Grace,” Lucius says.

  Then, he exits my father’s office.

  “That was very astute Leigha,” Noah comments.

  “Thank you,” Leigha nods.

  “I can’t guarantee anything; it could be nothing,” she adds.

  “Where did you say you did your masters?” my father asks.

  “I didn’t. I graduated from Columbia with a degree in Economics but my father needed help with the company, so I chose that opportunity instead. It was fairly rewarding until Elizabeth got involved,” she says.

  I glance at my father, worried all hell is about to break loose.

  Instead, he laughs.

  “Just about everything is rewarding until Elizabeth gets involved,” he quips.

  “She’s pretty much the Grim Reaper in Jimmy Choos if you think about it,” Leigha adds.

  My dad laughs harder, even if Leigha isn’t trying to be funny.

  I know she’s not.

  “The Grim Reaper! That’s a good one,” he chuckles.

  “How apt!” he says.

  Noah Stone, who usually sports the textbook definition of a poker-face, is actually laughing!

  This leaves Leigha sort of confused, so she laughs nervously with him, until Lucius opens the door.

  “Grace said Isaac has an apartment in Muette,” Lucius reports.

  “Guess who was spotted by Paris border security,” Aidan smirks at my dad.

  “Elizabeth,” Noah smirks back.

  “Well, I guess we’re going to Paris,” Leigha stands up.

  “We?” I question.

  “Can’t put all your eggs in one basket, right?” she says.

  My father mulls over this for a moment.

  “Lucius, see if your man at MI6 has anything. Aidan, continue your investigation with the London police; see if any of the leads they have actually go somewhere. Evan, you know what to do,” he says.

  But it’s not an order.

  I’m used to my father ordering me around, but here he is, just casually making suggestions.

  “You don’t have to tip-toe around me, you know,” I tell my father.

  “I know,” he replies.

  “Are you coming?” I ask.

  My father shakes his head.

  “I’ve got to stay here with Tinsley,” he replies.

  “Your sister and Corban just returned from Prague. They also found nothing, and I’d like to be able to comfort them somewhat,” he lies.

  “Can you guys give us a second?” I ask.

  Everyone nods and leaves the room.

  “What’s going on?” I confront my father the second the door is closed.

  Noah Stone, the big man with the money, falters for the first time I’ve ever seen him do it.

  “I was reluctant to agree, to cooperate with MI6, I mean,” he starts.

  “But, I did. So, now that they’ve got what they wanted from me, it’s imperative we do everything in our power to find your mother,” he explains.

  “What did you tell them?” I ask.

  Suddenly, I’ve got a cold sensation creeping up my neck.

  “Don’t worry about it,” my father says.

  Then, I’m dismissed.

  I find Leigha outside with Lucius and Aidan, skeet shooting.

  “Pull!” she screams.

  Clay birds fly out from both directions of the birdhouse.

  Leigha’s first shot clears the bird on the left before she pumps the shotgun and takes another shot.

  The second clay bird smashes to pieces, and she pumps another round into the chamber.

  “You’re a better shot than Evan!” Lucius declares.

  “Much better,” Aidan agrees.

  “Merc taught me,” Leigha says.

  Her voice is slightly strained.

  “Merc also taught Evan, so I don’t know why in the hell Evan is a terrible shot. Pull!” she yells.

  Lucius hits the button, and two more clay birds meet their doom from Leigha’s deadly skill.

  “Give me that,” I say.

  Leigha hands me the gun, and ignores the look on Lucius’ face.

  I think I should tell Leigha about Merc.

  Everything inside me is screaming at me to say something about the fact that our best friend is alive, and not laying six feet under.

  But, he asked me not to.

  Right before he suddenly left.

  He’s got the wrong idea about Leigha and me.


  Always did.

  “Pull!” I scream.

  I hit one clay bird but fail to smash the other.

  “Goddamnit!” I swear.

  “Told you I was a better shot,” Leigha mutters under her breath to Aidan.

  I watch him flip her some money.

  “Did you guys bet on that?” I ask.

  Aidan nods glumly.

  “She’ll take all your money, Aidan,” I laugh.

  “She already has,” Aidan calls back.

  I take my time reloading the shotgun, pushing four shells into the magazine.

  I check my hearing protection, and then shoulder the gun.

  It’s a beautiful Benelli, probably worth a small fortune.

  I admire it briefly, then yell “Pull!”

  I track the birds, and fire, once, then one more time, failing to hit either of the clay birds.

  “I’m out of practice,” I say, making excuses for myself.

  “You’re just a terrible shot,” Leigha teases.

  “You should let the nice lady show you how it’s done, Evan” Lucius adds evilly.

  I’d rather them gang up on me like this than treat me like an invalid.

  Leigha just makes everything so much easier; she’s not about to tiptoe around me like everyone else.

  Now, I feel genuinely worthless for coming on to her earlier.

  That was wrong on my part; I knew it was wrong, but I went ahead and did it anyway.

  The last thing I need is to sleep with my best friend.

  “So. Paris?” Leigha asks me.

  She takes the Benelli and reloads it expertly.

  When she finishes, she unloads the shells, frowning.

  She puts it back in the rack, carefully.

  As she strolls along the row of fine firearms, her brow furrows slightly.

  She decides to use a Purdey break-action from the rack.

  “That one, please!” she barks, pointing it out to Lucius.

  He hands it to her, and she breaks it open, slipping two shells inside.

  She closes it.

  The seam is almost invisible.

  “That pump-action has more felt recoil, to me,” she explains as if I were an ignoramus.

  Leigha is shorter than my sister, so I can see how the recoil of a pump shotgun might bother her.

  Personally, I have found that the recoil is comparable.

  Almost.

  This time when she yells pull, the heels of her boots dug into the ground, she doesn’t jolt backward nearly as much.

  I’m still surprised she’s such a good shot, for someone so little.

  Both clay birds explode mid-air and Aidan claps.

  We stand around skeet shooting for most of the afternoon until my dad comes to tell us the jet is ready to go.

  “It leaves in three hours,” he says.

  “Thanks, Noah,” Leigha says, putting the guns away.

  “Come on Ev, we have to pack,” she adds.

  I run after her across the lawn as she starts towards the house.

  “Do we even have a plan?” I ask.

  “We’ll figure it out, we always do,” she snickers.

  “This is nice,” Leigha sighs.

  She settles into the jet’s leather seats, entirely at home in this luxuriant world, even though she claims to despise it most of the time.

  I always figured it was the people she didn’t like, not the money.

  Then again, she was a very hot young CEO with incredible talent before my mother got into the mix.

  “Not as nice as the ATI jet was,” Leigha muses.

  “Really?” I raise an eyebrow.

  “Their seats reclined all the way down,” she replies, disappointed.

  “So, what do we know about Isaac?” Leigha turns the conversation around.

  Suddenly, she’s all business.

  “That’s he’s a son-of-a-bitch?” I offer.

  She frowns.

  “Other than the address, I know he’s one of us. I don’t know why he’s an enforcer for the Ventretti mafia, but he’s got money to burn. You should’ve seen the rock he put on Grace’s finger,” I tell Leigha.

  “Well she must know more than she’s letting on,” Leigha tells me.

  I raise an eyebrow at this.

  “What?” Leigha asks.

  “Didn’t it occur to you that they might actually love each other? Maybe his job got in the way of that? He may have annulled their marriage, but you cannot annul feelings, Ev” Leigha declares.

  “Right,” I say.

  It’s all I can manage.

  “But… but Vic?” I ask her.

  Leigha quiets at the mention of Vic.

  “Do you want to talk about it, Evan?” she asks after a long enough silence to make her uncomfortable.

  “No,” I say automatically.

  “I’m not ready,” I admit easily.

  “Well, you didn’t call me for nothing,” Leigha says.

  Then, she shrugs and pulls out her tablet to begin aimlessly scrolling through the news.

  I watch over her shoulder as she blurs through the headlines.

  “Are you even reading this?” I ask finally.

  “Speed reading, yes,” she says, her voice sounding distant and detached.

  She’s in analysis mode.

  She switches to the Paris news, and since I can’t read French, I go and pour us both a large drink, watching as the skyline disappeared behind the clouds.

  “This is interesting,” Leigha says.

  “What?” I ask.

  “MI6 is mentioned in that Prague incident you were in, but the article isn’t obvious about, certain things,” Leigh explains.

  I tense up, involuntarily.

  “My Czech is rusty. Who was their contact? Do you remember?” she asks me.

  Merc.

  Merc was their contact; I haven’t seen him since.

  “Didn’t see who it was,” I mutter.

  I pray she lets it go.

  My voice is even enough, and, luckily, she’s so engrossed in her reading that she doesn’t notice my lie.

  4

  Leigha

  February 29, 2018

  By the time we hit the tarmac at Charles de Gaulle evening has set over Paris and Evan says he is hungry.

  “There’s a great place nearby,” he mentions.

  We step out onto the street outside the ostentatious hotel Evan has picked.

  He has to do everything with a flourish; I get it, that’s how he is.

  Noah Stone’s son…

  It doesn’t mean it doesn’t bother me.

  But, we’ve more important things to worry about, now.

  “Don’t you want to check out this place first?” I ask.

  “We should walk by, see what kind of building it is. Do you have the address?” Evan asks.

  I reach into my black Burkin and pull out the inconspicuous gum wrapper I scrawled the address on.

  “Really? What if you lost it?” Evan asks, exasperated, pointing to the gum wrapper.

  “Can’t be too careful, not after what I’ve seen,” I tell him.

  “True enough,” Evan says.

  He takes the wrapper from me, glances at the address and points down the street.

  “Are you okay to walk?” he asks.

  “I’m wearing boots, I’m good,” I respond, a little stung.

  I wrap my coat tighter around me as we proceed down the avenue, away from Shangri-La Paris.

  We move with a casual stroll, and we take our time, proceeding to appear there is no urgency.

  Evan and I walk through the park, where the glittering Eiffel Tower fills the scenery around us.

  “It’s not as big as I thought it would be,” I tell Evan.

  “That’s what she said,” Evan laughs.

  It’s good to hear him joke, even if it’s a bad one.

  I just shake my head and keep on with our leisurely pace as we walk through the city.

  “Remember whe
n things were simple? When our biggest worry was where we going to find pot? Or if we were going to pass a test?” Evan asks.

  It’s out of the blue really.

  “It was so much simpler back then,” I agree.

  “To a point,” Evan admits.

  “Okay, not so simple,” I admit.

  “Why did sleep together again?” I ask Evan.

  “Well, you were naked, and then…” Evan says.

  He pauses for my reaction.

  When he sees my face, he goes all serious.

  “You were there, I was there. We smoked a lot of pot, drank too much. My father seems to think men and women can’t have completely platonic relationships,” Evan admits.

  “He’s wrong,” I say, trying to mentally swat away the notion.

  “We’ve always been platonic,” I say.

  My words float over the both of us easily as we walk along a tree-lined avenue.

  “This place is pretty good for dinner,” Evan points out.

  “Let’s stop, then,” I suggest.

  Evan opens the door to an elegant restaurant.

  This is the sort of life I was used to before everything happened; before Elizabeth turned my life upside down.

  Evan slips the maître’ d some extra Euros to get us a table quicker, and that makes my mind churn even more.

  I don’t have a job anymore.

  All I can do is fight for my father.

  We sit in silence after our drinks are delivered.

  “What’s wrong? You have that look on your face, that pout,” he says, calling me out on my mood.

  “It’s just… I’m angry Evan. I’m angry that Elizabeth dragged me into her mess!” I tell him, honestly.

  “I’m angry for you,” Evan replies.

  Then, he places his hand over mine across the table to comfort me.

  I need to take a breath when he does that.

  It’s not that I’m attracted to Evan; I mean, I am, a bit.

  That is as far as I’ll admit.

  B, the man is attractive as all hell.

  When we were younger, and I was just his tutor, I had the biggest crush on him.

  Who didn’t?

  He was a Stone.

  Evan was a fine young man, with blonde hair, and those true-blue eyes, and those sharp features he inherited from his father.

  A lot of the good-looking guys at our boarding school grew out of their good looks, but Evan has only grown into them.