The Billionaire's Sub Page 13

  I smiled as I said the words. “I love you too.”

  Epilogue

  Cross was probably the most obscure billionaire in LA, and I knew he didn't like to use his influence to get things done. He'd done it for me, though, when Juliette had been missing, and once he'd heard how long it would take for Howie and Emmalyn to go to trial, he'd done it again.

  As it turned out, he really did play golf with some important people. He'd made sure they'd understood he hadn't been asking for things to be fixed, only that the trial date be moved up so we could all move past what happened.

  So, now, it was the middle of September, and I was sitting in the row behind the prosecutor with Cross on one side and Juliette on the other. I was holding Cross' hand, his fingers laced between mine, and Juliette was clinging to my other one. Her boyfriend, Michael, was on her other side, his arm around her shoulders. Juliette was one of the strongest people I knew, but she'd needed our support during this whole thing.

  The doctors at the hospital had been correct when they'd said that Juliette was okay.

  Physically, at least.

  She'd tried pretending that what happened to her hadn't affected her at all, but after the first day of opening arguments, I'd found her in her bedroom, crying. After I'd had a three-second freak out about seeing my big sister breaking down, I'd gone to her, wrapped my arms around her, and made her tell me everything.

  I'd been prepared then, when she'd taken the stand, and repeated it all to the jury.

  No amount of preparation made it any easier to hear.

  Cross had held me in the courtroom, and then again back at his place afterward. He hadn't said a word, just let me be. I'd been grateful. Despite the fact that it could've been so much worse, it had been a lot to process.

  Emmalyn and Howie had kept Juliette isolated, locked in a shipping container, but they hadn't beaten her or anything like that. What they had done, however, was tell her all of the things they'd planned to do to her, or what they wanted to do to me.

  Howie's fantasies had all been sexual, focused on how the two of them would be together forever, and she was going to take care of him. He hadn't forced himself on her, but he had slept with her every night. Like, literally, in the shitty bed they'd given her, he'd slept next to her.

  Emmalyn, well, with her, it had all apparently been about jealousy and revenge. Jealousy over the fact that Juliette had come out to LA and had made something of herself while Emmalyn felt that she'd worked twice as hard to pursue her own dreams of becoming a model and actress, but it had never worked out. Part of it, she'd also blamed on the amount of time she'd had to spend working when she felt she should've been trying to make it.

  Then she'd discovered Juliette's sexual proclivities, and it had been the last straw. In Emmalyn's mind, Juliette had been sleeping her way to the top. When Juliette had brought me out to be the business manager, Emmalyn had started to put things together to hurt my sister. And she leaned toward the psychological side of things.

  Her form of mental torture had been telling Juliette how she was determined to ruin her. Destroy her business. Expose her secrets. Make ruins of her reputation.

  Howie had been okay with all of that. He'd thought that, without her business, without her life here, Juliette would be grateful to have him.

  I'd been Emmalyn's idea, the way for them to control Juliette. Once she realized how much Juliette cared about me, she'd told Howie that I was the way in. He wouldn't threaten Juliette with harm, but he'd had no qualms about using physical force on me to get Juliette to do what he wanted.

  Emmalyn had been the one to threaten Juliette with what she would do to me. Juliette hadn't known that they didn't have me, not until near the end when Howie had let it slip. She'd said that had been the worst part, thinking that they were hurting me.

  Cross squeezed my fingers, pulling me out of my thoughts even as we all stood. It had been a strange case. The judge in the case had been fair, the prosecutor firm without seeming like an ass. Emmalyn and Howie hadn't even taken the stand.

  None of us understood why there hadn't been a plea bargain when the evidence was crystal clear. Emmalyn and Howie had been caught at the shipping container. Their prints had been everywhere, including the handcuffs they'd used to restrain Juliette. Emmalyn's name had been on the lease. Howie had been caught on camera coming and going. Their phone records showed clear communication. The bartender had cut a deal on the charges regarding drugging my drink and had testified that it'd been Howie who'd paid him.

  There was no way in hell a jury would be able to find them innocent.

  And then the defense had begun their case, and I figured out the plan. Emmalyn and Howie hadn't been able to get what they'd wanted out of Juliette, so they'd planned to use the trial to at least accomplish some of it: exposing the 'sordid' details of Juliette's love life. Fortunately, the judge managed to quash most of the speculation regarding Juliette's sex life before it got too far.

  The stress of all of it, however, showed. She'd lost weight, her skin pale, bags under her eyes. I knew that Michael had been a huge help to her, in the same way Cross had been helpful to me. Well, not exactly the same way, but close enough.

  Someone talking drew my attention.

  “Madam Foreperson,” the judge addressed the jury. “Have you reached a verdict?”

  “We have, Your Honor.”

  I looked at the middle-aged housewife who stood, a piece of paper in her hand. I supposed there was always a chance that the jury could have some weird reason to say they found reasonable doubt, but I didn't think that would be the case.

  Still, I couldn't help tensing along with Juliette as the forewoman took a breath.

  “On the charge of kidnapping in the first degree, we find the defendant, Howard Pant, guilty.”

  Air went out of me.

  One down.

  “On the charge of kidnapping in the first degree, we find the defendant, Emmalyn Baxter, guilty.”

  I closed my eyes as Juliette threw her arms around me. I returned her embrace, feeling Cross' hand at the small of my back, letting me know that he was there. The rest of the people were moving around, talking, but we just sat and hugged, letting ourselves feel relieved.

  When we finally stood, pretty much everyone was gone, leaving the four of us to walk out together.

  It was Juliette who spoke first. “Club?”

  “Yes, please,” I said as I leaned against Cross. His arm tightened around me, his fingers curving possessively around my hip. “I am in serious need of some relaxation and fun.”

  Cross pressed his lips to my temple. “I think I can help with that.”

  “I'm counting on it.” I smiled up at him. I pitched my voice low even though Michael and Juliette were far enough ahead of us that I doubted they could hear me. “Anything specific in mind?”

  Cross' eyes darkened, his voice lowering to match mine. “I'm coming up with a plan. So far, it includes tying you up and licking you until you beg me to fuck you. But I'm sure I'll have something more inventive thought up by the time we get to the club.”

  A rush of warmth went through me at his words. I put my hand on his stomach and flexed my fingers. “And if I don't think I can wait that long?”

  His eyes flicked up toward Juliette and Michael, then back to me. He raised his voice. “Hey, we're going to stop at home for a bit first. We'll meet you there.”

  Juliette waved a hand over her shoulder and I could tell that, already, a weight had been lifted from her. Hopefully, now that all of this was behind us, she and I could have an entirely new start.

  It wasn't until Cross waved down a town car that I registered what he'd said.

  “Home?”

  He looked down at me, his hand on the door of the car. His face was more open than I'd ever seen it. “I knew that your sister needed you through all of this, or I would've asked you the same night I gave you your collar.”

  I swallowed hard, my pulse racing. He wasn't really asking
what I thought he was asking.

  Was he?

  “I want to wake up with you, Hanna.” He put his hand on my cheek. “Not just on weekends or the nights we happen to fall asleep. Every morning. Will you move in with me?”

  I couldn't speak, not until I saw the worry on his face. Realizing that I had that much power over him spurred me to action.

  “I'd love to.” I pushed myself up the few inches necessary to brush my lips across his. “Now, take me home.” I lightly ran my nails down his jaw. “Then take me.”

  He smiled, his eyes dark with desire. “With pleasure, my Hanna. With pleasure.”

  The End

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  Acknowledgement

  First, I would like to thank all of my readers. Without you, my books would not exist. I truly appreciate each and every one of you.

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  About The Author

  MS Parker

  M. S. Parker is a USA Today Bestselling author and the author of the Erotic Romance series, Club Privè and Chasing Perfection.

  Living in Southern California, she enjoys sitting by the pool with her laptop writing on her next spicy romance.

  Growing up all she wanted to be was a dancer, actor or author. So far only the latter has come true but M. S. Parker hasn’t retired her dancing shoes just yet. She is still waiting for the call for her to appear on Dancing With The Stars.

  When M. S. isn't writing, she can usually be found reading– oops, scratch that! She is always writing.