Vengeful Love: Black Diamonds (23 page)

“You still should’ve told me. If you’ve had her followed since Dubai you’ve known she’s threat all this time and I’m not crazy.”

He says nothing, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. That’s my cue to leave. He has some thinking to do and, as he knows they will, the cogs in my head need space to turn. I need to process everything from today and I can’t do that around him. I balance the ice on his hand, drain my Scotch, and make my way to the stairs.

“I’m sleeping in the spare room.”

His silence makes my weary limbs heavier as I trudge the staircase in my gown and heels.

Chapter Twenty

My father used to say you should never go to bed on an argument. I guess that’s true because I’ve woken even more pissed at Gregory than I was when I fell asleep. Yet, I’m now staring at the muscles of his naked back as he climbs out of bed.

Damn it.
I know my body and I know I’ll have caved. Whenever he carried me in here from the spare room, I’ll have given myself over to him, probably cuddled into his chest and wrapped my legs up in his. Hell, as I watch him move into an arms-raised stretch, I want him, too.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

I scowl my silent response, unsure whether I’m more annoyed with him or myself. On a head shake, he leaves the bedroom and when I hear him bound down the stairs to go out for his five thirty run, I know the coast is clear for me to go to the gym.

“Still pissed?” Jackson asks me with a smirk as I pummel the punch bag.

I land a right hook. “What do you think?”

“I’d say you’re getting a lot of power in those arms these days. Let’s get your elbows involved.”

Mopping my brow with my forearm, I turn my back on the bag, then holding my gloves together in front of me, I thrust an elbow back and up into the throat of the bag like he taught me.

Katrina Martin and Nick Henshaw. Why? Did she question his motive for resigning from Constant Sources? And Francis. Why would someone in private equity invest in a man who ran one company into the ground and was pushed out of another?

I’m on blow number three with my elbow when the gym door opens and Gregory removes his plugs from his ears, looking damn fine with wet hair, masculinity radiating from him. I pause and watch as he peels off his hoody and reveals his toned, bare chest.

God, help me.
I can feel Jackson’s silent amusement by my side.

As Gregory moves towards the bag, I take off my gloves. This is the routine. Now Jackson trains Gregory whilst I stretch out and leave to get ready for work. But today, petty though it may be, I throw my gloves so they land on the weight bench at one side of the room, then I barge past Gregory.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me? Shout, rant, anything?”

I pause before turning to face him, trying desperately to look only at his face.

“Yes. Actually, I do. I reviewed the draft joint venture agreement with Shangzen Tek yesterday. You need to agree a share option. GJR is bringing more knowledge to the joint venture than Shangzen and both companies are getting equal equity and voting rights. If the JV company makes a profit, I would suggest you have an option to increase GJR’s stake, exercisable on the annual accounts of the first and second years in operation.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“Yep.”

“You don’t have anything to say about this?” He holds my engagement ring in the air between his forefinger and thumb.

“I took it off to go on the bag, Gregory. If I’d taken it off because I’m pissed at you, I probably would’ve thrown it at your head.”

I snatch the ring from his fingers and make to leave.

“I’ll need you to draft that option into the agreement,” he calls as I open the gym door.

I reply over my shoulder. “It’s already done. Now you need to agree it.”

“Well, I’ll do that.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

* * *

I’m eating Amy’s expertly round poached eggs on an English muffin, talking to her and drinking coffee. It’s impossible to be angry in the company of one of the happiest people in the world and my mood has improved tenfold. As she tells me about her son’s rugby game last night, she looks over my shoulder to the staircase.

“Poached eggs, flower?” she asks Gregory when he takes a seat on the stool next to mine.

“Please.”

Amy cracks two eggs into her already hot pan of water, then places a black coffee and a glass of fresh orange in front of Gregory.

“I’m sorry.”

I look up from my plate, almost choking on his unexpected words. He’s wearing a navy suit with a crisp white shirt and sky blue tie and
Christ
does he smell amazing. Not ending last night the way I thought we would is clearly playing havoc with my hormones.

“The worst thing wasn’t what Nick said, Gregory, it was that I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t know how to react. I couldn’t control my reaction because you kept me in the dark. Again.”

“I know. I get it.” He exhales heavily. “Scarlett, this is my life. I deal with dark and twisted and I deal with it in my way. Let me finish. I’ve never had anyone living this close to me, who wants to know things about me. I’ve also never felt the need to protect anyone as insanely as I do you.” He casts an eye to Amy who, less than inconspicuously, leaves us. “I’ve told you before, you are everything to me and I won’t let anything happen to you. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Sometimes that might mean keeping things from you, but you have to trust that everything I do is in your best interests. Even if I get it wrong sometimes, or you think I do.” He smiles fleetingly. “I’m always thinking of you.”

“I know that.” And I do. “But I want us to be a team. Work together. Face challenges together, whatever they may be. You’re not alone anymore, Gregory.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and raises my palm to his lips. “Aurora.”

* * *

“Wait.” He pulls me back as I maneuver somewhat awkwardly out of the Mercedes in my black pencil skirt. I turn to face him. “I don’t want you to find out and think I’ve been keeping things from you.”

He glances at Jackson in the rearview mirror then back to me. A look that makes me lift my legs back into the car and pull the door closed.

“I went to see Jack.”

My old boss Jack? The man Gregory forced to confess to sexual assault?
That
Jack? My skin crawls until the tingling grows to a shiver and my shoulders shudder. I should consider myself lucky. All those late nights in the office, the crass jibes, the way he used to look at me like I was his next meal. But Jack never actually touched me. Thanks to Gregory, I never became one of the women he abused.

“When?” I don’t need to ask why, I know why. He went to see him to determine whether Jack is behind the trouble with Black Diamonds.

“Wednesday.”

I nod. “And?”

“It’s not him, Scarlett, I’m certain of it.”

I nod again, unsure how I feel about that. “Thank you for telling me.” I lean across the backseat and press my mouth to his. “It means a lot.”

He strokes my hair behind my ear and pushes the curled ends back across my shoulder. “Don’t overthink, baby, enjoy your last day at the firm. I can’t wait until I get to see you all day, every day.”

“I’ll be working,” I say with a smile I can’t help because I’m really looking forward to working next door to him, too.

“Your boss might give you extended breaks,” he says with a suggestive half smile and the kinky sparkle in his eye throws my mind back to images of us fucking over his desk.

“I don’t know,” I say, pecking his cheek and making my move out of the car. I bend and lean back into the open door. “I’ve heard he’s a bit of an arse.” I blow him a kiss, leaving him laughing as the door closes.

* * *

It wasn’t Jack.

I need to start making my final handover notes and packing up the contents of my desk but before I do, I take out the ring binder labelled Constant Sources (GJR): Black Diamonds.

“Hey you.” Amanda bounds into my office looking immaculate in a charcoal A-line skirt and an electric-blue blouse, her red hair swept back in a loose chignon. “Leaving lunch and embarrassing goodbye shenanigans at one.”

“Oh, Amanda, please don’t go over the top, I’d rather slope off quietly.”

“And that’s why you have a fantabulous best friend to make sure you don’t.”

She spins and struts out of the office with one hand on her hip. “I’ll collect you at twelve fifty-five. Be ready.”

When she leaves I open the file and work back through the information I have on the Black Diamonds IP registrations.
Nothing.
I scour my documents and notes on the subsidiary companies that filed the registrations. Local counsel said there was nothing suspect about those companies nor the French parent company.

I put on my headset and dial each lawyer in turn, asking them to urgently send through the details of the three companies, names of directors, shareholders, constitutional documents.

Ten minutes later, I’m laying out the documents on my desk and I see one constant.

Francesco Benedetti, Director.

I can hear Adriana’s whiney voice chastising her husband.
“Oh, Francesco, you’re so baaaaad.”
The man I know as Francis is... Francesco Benedetti?

I pull up Google on my computer screen and type
Francesco Benedetti
, pausing before I hit enter. A link to Carter’s Private Equity House is the first result. I remember the name.

My heart beats faster in my chest as I click the link to the company’s website. The homepage is full of spiel about the PE house’s investments.
Latest News. Corporate Social Responsibility.
Scanning the tabs at the top of the screen, my fingers shaking, I click
Team
.

There he is. A black and white image with a bio sits under the heading
Francesco Benedetti.
Francis.

Francis is registering Black Diamonds?

I lean back in my chair and turn my cardboard latte cup on my desk, staring at his face.
Of course!
I pick up my desk phone and dial.

“Gregory Ryans.”

“It’s Nick Henshaw.” His name tastes vile as it leaves my mouth.

“Scarlett?”

“Francis, Adriana’s Francis, is Francesco Benedetti.” I try to slow my pace and keep it together as I explain.

“Yes, one and the same.”

“Last night, when Nick Henshaw told me he’d gone into business with Francis, he said it like a threat.”

“We’ve been over this.”

“This morning I had local counsel send the registration documents of the companies behind the Black Diamonds registrations, Gregory, and there’s one constant. Francis,
Francesco
, is a director of them all.”

“Ja, so what does that mean?” His South African twang rolls off his tongue like he’s relaxed but I know I have his attention.

“Why would Francis try to register Black Diamonds? He doesn’t have a vendetta against you, you said so. His new business partner on the other hand... Nick isn’t listed as a director but I just know, Gregory, from last night, from Nick’s knowledge of the gaming industry, it has to be him. I don’t know what their financial arrangement is but I’m certain Francesco Benedetti and Nick Henshaw are in this together. They’re trying to steal Black Diamonds.”

He’s silent for a second. “That’s not Francis’s way. He’s out for money but he’s not vindictive. He’s not into those kinds of battles. His reputation as an investor would be on the line and like you say, he doesn’t have an issue with me.”

“So maybe he doesn’t know? He could think he’s investing in gaming software. Legitimate. Above board. He doesn’t need to know Nick’s motivation. Black Diamonds has only been on the market for a matter of weeks, it’s feasible that Nick could own the game and be registering the IP as any new owner would. That could be the story he’s told Francis at least.”

Gregory is quiet again, to the point that I start to wonder if he’s still on the line. Eventually, he snarls, “Fucking bastard.”

* * *

“Ready lady? The only answer to that question is yes, by the way.” Amanda stands, coat on, handbag over her wrist, at the door to my office.

“In that case, yes.”

“You seem distracted,” she says as we walk towards the dim sum restaurant.

“Sorry. I am but I won’t be. I’m really looking forward to lunch. Thanks for organising.”

“You’re also a terrible liar.”

I know that. “It’s a failing I was born with.”

“Is everything okay? Are you and Gregory okay?”

“Oh, gosh, yes, fine. You remember the game Gregory acquired before St. Lucia, and the intellectual property issues?”

“Right, yep. That’s still going on?”

I pull open the heavy glass door to the restaurant. “After you. Yes, it’s still going on. Bit of a mess really.”

“That’s all? You’re sure?”

I laugh internally at Amanda’s simplistic view of everything work related. “Yes, that’s all.”

There are already ten others from my office seated at benches. We eat far too many dumplings on a long wooden table then I’m presented with spa vouchers for two as a leaving gift. From the look on Amanda’s face, I know the identity of my intended guest.

My Blackberry vibrates for the second time in ten minutes and I’m desperate to answer but Amanda has gone to a lot of trouble, so instead, I watch Gregory’s name light up the screen before a text comes through.

CAN YOU COME HERE?

After saying my goodbyes and giving my final handover notes for Mr. Ghurair’s transaction to Amanda, I leave. Jackson comes to my office and carries my box to the Mercedes as I take in the space one last time.

The end of an era.
So much has happened in five months and it all started with one pitch. One boardroom. One glance. I roll my engagement ring between my fingers and close the door on old Scarlett Heath. Daughter. Trainee. Associate. Senior Associate. Legal Director.

By the time I reach the lift, I realise a new door has opened, a new chapter has begun, and a new, stronger version of Scarlett Heath has been born.

* * *

Jackson carries my box, together with my wool coat and dripping wet dome umbrella, to my new office whilst I head in search of Gregory.

The staff look sheepish at their desks outside his office. As I approach the frosted glass door, Stuart walks out looking like he’s just experienced unhappy CEO Ryans.

“Hi Stuart.”

He smiles, those familiar eyes softening. “Hi Scarlett.” His voice betrays his disheartened mood and gives me a small insight into what’s waiting behind the door.

Gregory is pacing the length of the wall of windows, the tails of his navy blazer pushed back by his hands in his pockets, his tie looser than usual at his neck, his hair out of place from where he’s dragged his fingers through it. Even the air in the room is tense.