Hostage (Predators MC #3) (30 page)

“
A
ll right
, let’s begin, everyone. Collins, I want you to go over what progress is being made on our new tablets as well as the information about our two new locations in Dallas.”

Scarlet immediately lost focus as Collins began to speak. His voice was a boring drone, but he was one of her father’s favorites; therefore, she put up with his infernal tone. Anything to keep her father happy.

Her father, Simon Daniels, was never in a very good mood these days, and she tried to keep any undue stress away from him. Fielding calls, planning itineraries, luncheons, and meetings were just a few of the ways she kept him calm. However, he still preferred to be front and center when it came to the way things were progressing in his company, Jupiter Technologies, even though he had no problems letting his multiple accountants handle the vast wealth he had accumulated over the years.

Though he was one of the wealthiest men in the world, Simon ran his company with an iron fist. He pampered his only daughter, but he had never just bestowed his generosity on her without expecting her to work hard for it in return. Once she had been old enough, Scarlet had interned at the company, watching enviously from the sidelines as the other girls her age had started going out on dates or to school dances. As soon as she had walked through the heavy glass doors at Jupiter Tech, she had no longer been the spoiled princess everyone thought she was at home. Simon had given them strict instructions: She was not the boss’s daughter, but just another employee like anyone else.

This did not stop as she had grown older. The days had turned into nights as she’d labored for the company—sitting in on board meetings, taking notes, and running errands. The few normal party invitations she had received had come from the daughters of other board members. Any other invitations had only been because she was Simon’s daughter. It had been a difficult area to navigate, but over the years, she had learned what to accept, what to politely decline, and of course, what to just outright ignore.

Because of this, she had almost no friends, and the few she had were only trying to further their own fathers’ careers. She had been on the receiving end of too many vicious and backstabbing comments to believe anyone had ever really liked her and genuinely been her friend.

Her father used to tell her it was for the best that those other girls were just jealous of her status and work ethic; that they knew they would never deserve everything that would be given to them like she would. She knew he was lying.

Not even college had offered the escape she had so dreamed it would. After her pictures had been sold to gossip magazines, her credit cards stolen, and her “best friend” had tried to film her having sex with her then boyfriend, she had given up on ever believing anyone would ever like her. Everyone, she had thought, had a motive for wanting to be in her life, and she had grown sick of it. She had become closed off, cold, and she’d refused to socialize with anyone outside of work.

This had suited her father just fine. After all, he had lectured her many times in the past about safety being her primary concern in any relationship. After three attempted kidnappings and her previous traumas, she had agreed with him. The only time she had ever deviated from her solitude was when she had met Bradley, the handsome lawyer her father’s attorneys had hired not long before that.

His pretentious name alone should have warned her. Still, she had fallen for his good looks and, most importantly, his apparent lack of interest in her wealth. He had blown past all the guards she’d had in place, and though she would never have admitted it, it had barely taken one date before he had cajoled her into his bed. Six months later, ignoring her father’s misgivings, Scarlet had happily accepted when Bradley proposed and begun to plan the biggest wedding anyone had seen in years.

Skipping out on work for the first time in years, Scarlet, at Bradley’s urging, had bought them a beautiful penthouse not too far from her father’s own West Village home. She began decorating it during the wedding planning, picturing the children they would have and growing old together with the man of her dreams.

That dream had been shattered the same day her father had given her a gorgeous clear and red heart-shaped glass sculpture. He’d had it commissioned as a sign of his grudging blessing and as an early wedding present. Since it was nothing short of an amazing work of art, he had encouraged her to go ahead and take it to her new home and allowed her a rare but brief hug before she left. She had hardly been able to contain her excitement. Then, walking inside, she had stopped to find Bradley fucking some woman on the couch they had picked out together.

Shocked, she had dropped the sculpture, which shattered into a million pieces, alerting Bradley and the woman to her presence. She had realized then that he had faked any emotion he’d had for her and thought bitterly that the only way he had even been able to be with her was to probably think about the money he would have once they were married.

She dumped him on the spot and, in the ensuing argument, he had said he was surprised she had expected him to be faithful, that she should have been grateful he had even deigned to be with her. As he had glared at her, she couldn’t help thinking it had probably taken more than money to get him excited enough to sleep with her. She knew she wasn’t beautiful like her mother—no one seemed shy about saying it.

The breakup had devastated her, and she had become more withdrawn than before. Her only consolation had been that her father had fired Bradley and made it impossible for him to ever find a job anywhere again. That was his one hard rule: you don’t fuck with a Daniels. She had immediately sold the penthouse and moved back in with her father.

It had only been a month since she’d broken off her engagement and, tired of the manipulative and underhanded tactics people used to get to her birthright, she was afraid it would only get worse after her father’s newest announcement.

“Scarlet,” her father called in a raspy voice from the other end of the large boardroom table, pulling her out of her memories and back to the present.

Blushing as the whole table turned to look at her, she met her father’s eyes.

“Are you listening?” he asked.

“Of course, sir.” It was always “sir” while they were at work. “Collins was just discussing having the new stores opened by the twenty-ninth if the staff can be trained in time, and of course, we are discussing the new offer from Gregory Aspen. But,” she added, “I don’t know why we are.” Her father raised his eyebrows at her, and she continued passionately. “He will never own this company. You built this from the ground up, and it’s not going anywhere.” She pushed a strand of raven hair out of her face.

Her father studied her carefully, and her face flushed again under his piercing gaze. Despite trying his best to hide it, Simon was fading, only a shadow of the imposing man he used to be. He had lost weight, and his hair—his great pride—was greying and thinning. The man Scarlet thought to be invincible was vanishing before her eyes, and the man who sat across from her at the large glass table was almost unrecognizable as the titan who had raised her.

“I am glad you feel that way,” he said. Looking around at the other board members, he continued, “As you all know, I have had some health concerns lately, and I am sad to say that things have taken a turn for the worse.”

Scarlet’s eyes began to water, and the room was unusually quiet as her father spoke.

“The cancer has spread, and the chemo is no longer working. Surgery is no longer an option. According to my doctors, I have approximately three more months left.” He sighed sadly.

“We can get better doctors, sir,” a member named Samuels began, but Simon stopped him, raising a thin hand.

“Medicine can no longer do anything for me. I am dying, and there is no way around it.” A fire ignited behind Simon’s eyes. “But I will be damned if my company goes with me. So, effective two weeks from now, I will be stepping down as CEO of Jupiter Technologies, and Scarlet will take my place as the new head of this company. I have discussed this at length with her, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that she is ready,” Simon declared.

His announcement was met with silence. Scarlet just knew the board would never go for it. There were too many negatives to the situation, age—she was only twenty-eight—and experience being the top two objections. To her surprise, however, one by one, they started nodding, and she heard quiet words of affirmation for her father’s decision as they talked amongst themselves. This had never happened before; people only seemed to tolerate her because of her name. She had grown up with these people mentoring her and had done internships in most of their offices, but now they were showing her their confidence and support. Although, it wasn’t like they had much of a choice; Simon had been just as stingy with his company shares as he was in his affection. Most of the board members had no real power and only served in an advisory capacity. Regardless, Scarlet was secretly thrilled by the support they were showing.

Life finally seemed to be cutting her a break after her breakup and her father’s diagnosis, and she found herself smiling for the first time in weeks. Maybe now, finally, she could carve her own place, and all the rumors and gossip could focus on her new career and not her broken engagement.

“So, how should we announce the change?” asked Marcus Winters, a senior member. His grandfatherly image, Scarlet knew, belied his ruthless business techniques, though he had always been nothing except kind and generous with her. “I propose a gala,” he went on to suggest.

Scarlet chimed in, “I agree, sir. But we could make it a charity gala. We could partner with a well-known charity and donate all the proceeds to cancer research and make the announcement there. Since all of New York’s elite will be invited, the press will, of course, be there, as well. The good publicity certainly wouldn’t hurt our image, and it is a good cause.”

Simon gifted her with a rare smile. “Sounds good to me. I’ll leave all the details to you.”

Smiling in return, Scarlet pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Well, let’s get started, then.” After punching a button on the phone in front of her, her assistant’s voice rang out over the speakerphone.

“Yes, ma’am, how may I help you?”

“Julie, we are hosting a charity gala in two weeks on the sixteenth. You know the drill: caterers, event organizer—the works. Also, reach out to Killian O’Cleary’s Cancer Foundation and see if they would be interested in working with us on this.”

“Yes, ma’am. Anything else?” Julie asked. “Will Mr. Daniels need any assistance with anything?”

“You might want to go ahead and call us in some lunch, please. I think we’re going to be busy for the rest of the day,” Scarlet said, suppressing a smile while the rest of the members tried not to chuckle.

Julie had been Simon’s secretary for years before she had been appointed to her current position assisting Scarlet. It was no secret she remained very devoted to Simon and still tried to do everything for him.

“No problem. Lydia’s Café?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Finished with the call, Scarlet looked around the room at the board of directors and gave them a rare, genuine smile. They could have made this meeting difficult, and while it wouldn’t have affected the outcome, it would have placed stress on her already-ill father.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your support. I promise I will not let you down.”

* * *

I
n London
, a phone went off in the night, ringing only twice before being answered.

“Shadow,” he answered in his deep British accent, his voice raspy from sleep.

“I have a job for you, if you’re interested.” A crisp tone filled Shadow’s ear, and he immediately recognized Reaper, the leader of the elite Assassin’s Club and, for lack of a better word, Shadow’s boss. If you wanted someone dead, Reaper was the person to call.

After only taking the best, hardest, and most well-paying jobs, Reaper would then delegate the rest to a member of the club he felt was best suited to handling it for a cut of the profit.

“One second.” Shadow yawned, pulling himself out of bed and ignoring the woman who was still sound asleep next to him. He hadn’t bothered to get her name before he had brought her home from the pub hours before.

Naked, he walked out of his bedroom and down the hall. Pausing beside a locked door, he entered the code on the keypad next to it and walked inside. No one was allowed in this room, not even the maid, and his equipment—guns, knives, and the like—glinted on the wall in immaculate condition, neatly arranged and ready for use at a moment’s notice.

Once he was sure the door was closed behind him, Shadow spoke again. “What kind of job?” he asked, with a sigh. He had just finished a job in Russia, and after nearly freezing to death, more than once, he had been looking forward to a relaxing few weeks at home before his next assignment.

“The kind that would make you a lot of money,” Reaper said nonchalantly. They could have been talking about the weather from the tone of his voice. “You’d be able to take a long vacation. Permanently, if you so choose.”