Her Billionaire Secret: Part 4: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (3 page)

“I believe in standing on my own two feet. I want to make my own path with my career.” Surely that would be enough.

It wasn't.

“So where is the money?”

Claire answered tersely, she didn't see what any of this had to do with what they were discussing. “It's in two charitable trusts. Every penny of it, along with the continued royalties due to both Kathryn and Fay Tyler.”

Isabella took a legal pad out of the drawer of her desk and picked up her fountain pen. “Tell me more, this may be important.”

***

TEVIS

Sam Rendall handed over all the information he'd obtained to Isabella Price.

“Can I ask how you came by all of this?” Isabella eyed the files suspiciously but Tevis could tell she wanted to open them and start reading. Her fingers flicked at the edges of the cardboard covers.

“No,” Sam responded curtly, obviously not intending to elaborate.

Isabella raised her eyebrows at Sam and Tevis wanted to laugh. It was like watching a school teacher dealing with a naughty boy.

Tevis interrupted before sparks flew. ”I'm sure it's all been obtained legally.”
 

Next to him, Sam didn't even flinch.

“If it wasn't, then I don't want to know.” She eyed Sam suspiciously. “You understand?” Her smile didn't reach her eyes.

“Completely understood,” he smiled back, his eyes crinkling with amusement before turning serious again. “The red file concerns information on the breach in your data security—and the specific actions of one of your staff—a Mr Derek Jones. He often stays late in the office. You should know this doesn't only affect Miss Bretton. It appears to have been going on for some time.”

“I appreciate that you are prepared to remain silent about this, Mr Rendall.”

Tevis watched the interchange between the two with hidden amusement. Sam made no comment on the fact Isabella refused to use his first name even though he'd asked her to.

“It's for you to deal with,” Sam responded smoothly. “The blue file relates to Claire. If you need anything else, contact Tevis. He knows how to get hold of me. Sam stood and strode over to the door, opening it wide. He turned and looked back the lawyer. “It's been a pleasure to meet you, Isabella. I hope we can do this again.” The door closed behind him with a slam.

Isabella's eyes narrowed slightly but she never said a word. She turned instead to Tevis.

“Mr Drummond, I have an event arranged for Monday afternoon. Would you like to come along as my guest?”

“I'm not sure—” Tevis paused, realising from the look on Isabella's face this wasn't some social or charitable engagement. She was staring at him pointedly.

“You will, of course, have to stay out of sight. I'm having it filmed for legal purposes. You could watch the event on the screens in the next room.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“I am telling you nothing.” Isabella picked up her pen and scribbled down a note. “This is the address. Monday at three o'clock if you are interested.”

Tevis took it and noted the central London hotel address. “I'll be there.”

The meeting was over and Tevis stood to leave.

“Mr Drummond, one last thing I would like you to note.”

Damn, that tone of voice again. Now
he
felt like the naughty schoolboy.

“When I send one of my staff to deliver an item on my behalf—,” Isabella stared him down, but he swore she had a twinkle in her eye, “don't detain them for four days.”

Chapter Five

CLAIRE

Claire paced the room, occasionally staring through the hotel window to the street below but most of the time her gaze turned to the clock placed in the centre of the coffee table. She had fifteen minutes to pull herself together. Her composure had disappeared after Isabella had shown her the recording equipment. It made what she was about to do all the more real.

Fran looked up from the paperwork. New documents had been arriving every few minutes.

“It's going to be okay, Isabella is handling all this. She'll be at your side.”

“She isn’t going to be answering the questions,” Claire muttered back, as she continued to wear a track in the cream coloured carpet.

Fran ignored her. Today she wasn't here as her friend, she was in the room sifting through the legal agreements coming in. “We've received signed responses from most of the major publications.”

“Has the owner of Citrus Gem Magazine sent one through?”

Fran shook her head. “I suspect they're going to leave it until the last minute.” Her mouth turned downward in disgust. I can't believe Derek Jones sold them information about you.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand why you sent them an invitation. They caused you a lot of harm.”

Claire looked at Fran. It was odd hearing her comment about the magazine. A copy of Citrus Gem had regularly been on her desk. Until now. It was unlikely she would buy one in the future. Their actions had resulted in the office of Stanford and Henderson being turned upside down. Fran had been involved in the search for how much information had been leaked to them over the years.

“I need to have them covered by the same agreement as the rest,” she responded to Fran. ”They can't run outside the pack.”

Isabella walked into the room. For someone organising a secure and orchestrated event, she looked almost serene. Comfortable even. She smiled at Claire and glanced over at Fran.

“I have the final agreement.” She waved the paperwork in front of their faces. ”Signed by the big man himself, the owner. Whatever the journalists of Citrus Gem Magazine do from now on, they are answerable to him. I have his assurance he will keep them on a tight leash.”

She handed the papers to Fran and crossed the room to Claire. She patted her arm and gave her an encouraging smile.

“Are you ready?”

Claire nodded. Her throat was dry and butterflies danced around her stomach. She closed her eyes, focused on what she had to do, and then opened then again.

“Yes, Isabella, let's get this show on the road.” Fay Tyler was back and this was going to be the biggest performance of her life.

***

The babble of voices went silent as she walked down the length of the room with Isabella and Fran following closely behind. Head held high and immaculately styled, she knew her image was so close to that of her mother that everyone in the room would be making a comparison.

She intended it to be that way. She wanted to show the world, make them understand, that Fay Tyler was no longer a child. No longer someone to mess with. She headed towards the small stage on which stood three chairs and a table.
 
The only sounds in the room were the footsteps made by her small group.

Taking a seat, she didn't lift her head until both other women took their seats on either side of her.

Then slowly, ever so slowly, in the exact manner her mother had taught her, she lifted her gaze. With the attitude of someone to be reckoned with,
 
she scanned the room with a slight smile on her face. 

As Isabella Price talked through the terms of the agreement their companies had signed, Claire continued to hold their gaze, looking at each journalist for a few seconds before moving on to the next in the row.

“Miss Tyler will only answer questions which are not deemed an invasion of the privacy and dignity of her, her family, and friends. As per the signed agreement I have received from each of your publishing companies, you will not attempt to interview her or her friends and family outside the designated press conferences to which you now have access.”

There was a shuffling among some of the journalists but not a word uttered.

“There will be no photography at this session. Six photographs will be issued, four of them of Miss Fay Tyler and two from her personal collection showing her with her late mother.” The interest in the room intensified. The family had never released any images. “May I remind you,” Isabella continued, “these pictures remain the property of Miss Tyler and you cannot sell them on. Your magazines are in the unique position of having access to images never published before. If you do not adhere to the terms of the agreement, you will not be invited to any future press conferences with Miss Tyler and legal redress will be taken.”

Claire knew she had the advantage. None of the journalists had been allowed to bring a photographer along.

“Finally, for now, if any of you object to this press conference being recorded you should leave” Isabella pointed to the cameras strategically placed around the room. “This interview is being filmed and the digital records will be held securely in the vaults of Stanford and Henderson Law.”

No one moved as Isabella waited patiently for any response. None came.

“This press conference will now commence. You may ask questions for a total of fifteen minutes, one question at a time.”

***

TEVIS

Tevis sat upright in the chair as he watched Claire on the monitor. He hadn't seen her since she’d left Erland's house with Sam close on her heels. He studied her hungrily, taking in the immaculate makeup, the styling, and the way she held herself. Kathryn Tyler had died ten years earlier but she'd left behind a young girl who had grown into a woman who was as dignified and as talented as she ever was.

Fay Tyler was stunningly beautiful. Within hours her face would grace the cover of every magazine represented in the room next door. But Tevis knew none of the photographs would do Claire justice, even though the new ones
 
had been commissioned with a top photographer. The face he loved was the one he'd woken up to each morning they'd been together. The face that had crinkled in laughter at him. The face that studied the world around her as if she was imagining her own photographs.

He smiled at her wit and at the way she handled the people in the next room. At the end of fifteen minutes she had them laughing and falling in love with her. But Tevis knew the depth of her fear, saw the slight hesitations and recognised them for what they were. Everyone else in the room did not. It was a polished performance.

The final question was the one he knew would come even though it was off limits. He leant forward as it was asked, studying the journalist in detail on one of the monitors.

“Fred Jones, Citrus Gem Magazine,” the man announced.
 

So this was the press contact Derek Jones had sold information to, his nephew who had been benefiting from the arrangement for years. He wondered if the magazine had been aware of the relationship as they handed over the cash.

Tevis watched Claire's face on the other monitor. She cocked her head and gave the journalist a slight smile. “Yes, Mr Jones, what is your question?”

“What happened on the day your mother died? Why did she leave you at the studio?”

“Mr Jones, you well know that question is in breach of the agreement your publisher signed. I must ask you to leave the room,” Isabella snapped back.

Claire held up her hand to stay her, looking around the room at the journalists. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have made it clear that questions of a personal nature are off limits.”

Tevis held his breath as Claire turned her stare back on the Citrus Gem Magazine journalist. “Mr Jones, my mother provided me with a level of love and affection you probably don't comprehend. She was my world and I lost her that day. Your magazine then proceeded to try and destroy the love her fans had for her too.”

The room was silent, so silent Tevis could hear the breathing of the journalists sitting close to the microphones.

“My mother loved me. She was devoted to caring and protecting me. She didn't leave me on the set, she had arranged for me to be picked up. She died that day with the man she loved, but not more than she loved me and not any less.”

Claire paused and Tevis couldn't guess at what she would say next but he could tell she hadn't finished.

“My mother was a vivacious, wonderful woman who was loved by millions.” Claire's eyes never left the journalist's face. ”She still is. But the love between her and her family went much deeper and we still miss her. We always will. I hope that one day the man I love will be able to say the same about me.” She straightened and clasped her hands on her lap. “That is all, this interview is now over.”

Low murmurs rippled around the room. Some of the journalists rose out of their chairs.

“The interview may be over, but the press conference is not.” Isabella's words snapped through the air, reminding Tevis why he employed her as his lawyer. He smiled to himself. Whatever Isabella had to say it must be good. He recognised the look of a winner in her eyes.

The journalists fell silent as Isabella waited for those who had stood to retake their seats.

“I am going to refer you the events of last week when a number of journalists appear to have sought information about my client by waiting outside a private property in Belgravia.” Isabella paused as she studied the faces in the room. “Those individuals were in breach of an injunction issued ten years ago on behalf of my client.”

A low muttering went around the room and Isabella paused until it quietened again. Tevis watched Claire's face. It remained composed, giving no hint that she had any idea about what Isabella was about to say.

“I refer to three words in that legal judgement—engaged in education. These are important words. It appears that some of you have taken these words to mean that having completed her university education you are now free to follow my client and report on her life. This is not the case.”

Tevis smiled. Well used to dealing with contracts and agreements, he could tell Isabella had found a way to keep the press at bay. He wondered what it was as he studied her face on the monitor.

“My client is actively engaged in education,” Isabella said firmly. “And will be for the foreseeable future. She is the Chairperson of two charitable trusts. One linked with an eminent university and another with a prominent stage school. This work includes time spent in both institutions in an educational capacity.”