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“When did you…you know?”
“Get interested in bondage?”
“Yeah. Bondage and the rest of it.”
“I’ve always been interested in it. It’s part of who I am.”
In fact, I don’t remember a time—since I came of age—that I wasn’t interested in the darker side of sex. I didn’t always practice, but the desire was always a part of me, as if I was born that way. Perhaps I was. I experimented here and there when the situation presented itself—which wasn’t often—until I met Addison Ames at a party she threw when she was a mere eighteen years old.
Which led to…
No, not now. I wipe the thoughts and images from my mind.
“Braden?”
“Yes?”
“This is all…normal, right?”
Such a loaded question, and one I asked myself many times when my interests in the darker side piqued. I wondered if I was normal as a teen.
As a thirty-five-year-old man? I know that normal is a relative term.
“Normal? Depends, I guess. If normal is what the majority of people like, then no, this probably isn’t normal. But if normal is whatever consenting adults choose to do without harming anyone or breaking any laws, then yes, this is perfectly normal.”
“Do you always look at both sides of everything?” she asks.
“Always. And you should, too. It’s how you make a success in business.”
She regards me. I feel her gaze taking in my bare chest, muscled arms, bronze shoulders, sculpted abs—which I work damned hard for.
There is so much more to me than what she sees. So much more than I’ve let her see.
Yet I’ve shown her more than I’ve ever shown another.
The fact that I yearn to show her the rest?
It’s not frightening so much as unbelievable.
For the real me—and how I became Braden Black the blue-collar billionaire—is a secret I’ve never shared with anyone.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Have you ever seen The Godfather?” Brock Ames, Addison’s father and CEO of the Ames Hotel empire, asked.
I shook my head. We never had cable TV growing up, and now I didn’t have time to watch TV or stream movies. I was either working or sleeping.
“Too bad,” Brock said.
“Why?”
“Because I’m about to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
I didn’t respond. I simply lifted my eyebrows, waiting.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Brock said. “You’re going to drop the charges against my daughter and agree to never speak about what happened between the two of you again.”
“And she’ll stop stalking me?”
“She’ll attempt to stop.”
I shook his head. “No deal.”
“I know my daughter. She’s just throwing a tantrum. She’s not getting what she wants. It’s her way.”
“Her way? I’m supposed to put up with her little fits?”
Brock cleared his throat. “In return, I’ll finance your move to another place. She won’t be able to find you.”
“I have to leave Boston?”
“Yeah. But you can find work in construction anywhere.”
“Maybe I don’t want to leave Boston. My father and brother are here.”
“So? I’ve done some research, Mr. Black. There’s no love lost between you and your father. And your mother… Well, she’s no longer an issue, is she?”
Rage, again. Reddish-purple rage. How dare this motherfucker speak about my family? About my mother?
I kept my mouth glued shut, though, as difficult as it was. No way was I going to let my temper dictate what happened next. No fucking way.
“I’m not moving,” I finally said.
“That’s your prerogative. But Addie knows where to find you. The stalking, as you like to call it, may continue.”
“As I like to call it? What the fuck do you call it?”
“I call it simply an attempt to keep in touch.”
I clenched my hands into fists once more. “I can’t believe this. I don’t want to move. I won’t move.” I was adamant. Boston was my home. I didn’t want to live anywhere else.
“So you’re rejecting my offer?”
“I’m rejecting your first offer. I’d like to make a counteroffer.”
“I’m not entertaining any counteroffers, Mr. Black. This is my one and only offer.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Addie will go to the police and allege assault.”
My skin tightened around me, my heart thundering. “You won’t get away with this. The truth is on my side.”
“Maybe so, but are you willing to take that chance? I’ll have the best lawyers advising the prosecution, and you’ll go down for a crime you didn’t commit.”
Fuck. Brock knew I hadn’t assaulted Addie. He fucking knew. If only I had a tape recorder on me. A wire. Then I could prove that Brock had just admitted I hadn’t committed any crime. I opened my mouth to call Brock out on his lie—
Then something hit me like a lightning bolt.
Money.
This all came down to money. Brock had it. I didn’t.
“How much will that cost you?” I asked.
“What?”
“Those greedy lawyers who will advise the prosecution. Don’t forget the judge. You may have to buy him off. How much will it ultimately cost you to bring me down?”
“Money doesn’t matter.”
