Spellbound, Boundless Series, Book 4

Ch. 45

The assault on Pentagram's integrity didn't end with Lana's resignation. Another article connected the credit card fraud and Lana's incarceration with her untimely departure. I was implicated as having protected her. The information printed must have been provided by someone inside Pentagram. "Omar," I said when he answered my phone call. "You have a mole, and Pentagon does not tolerate the release of internal information."

"The only thing Pentagram did was inform managers and their assistants that Lana left to focus on her studies." He sighed. "I don't know who released any internal details. Any connection between the fraud and Lana's resignation was conjecture by the media."

I stood at my window, looking at the Boston skyline—many of my businesses were out there. The empire I built seemed to be burning around me and I had to put out the flames before all was destroyed. "I want all of your staff questioned by HR, and if we find the person who violated our privacy policies, I want them fired immediately."

Omar cleared his throat. "Yes, sir. I'm confident that it isn't the case, sir."

"For your sake, I hope not, Omar." I ended the call, shaking my head in disbelief and anger.

Bad publicity was expected in any business, but the hits to the young Pentagram resort was more than we'd bargained for. I'd had no communication with Lana since I attempted to visit her several days ago. I was on edge, missing her. It was odd how I could taste her on my tongue, catch a whiff of her scent out of thin air, or feel phantom constrictions of her pussy around my cock. My body and mind battled, physically wanting her, but unable to eradicate my disappointment—and resentment.

There was no expectation of reconciliation. She was a liar. A thief. An attempted murderer by association. I'd brought her into my home. She'd been on my island haven. A smirk escaped me when I thought of the quarter-million dollars she'd swindled out of me. No doubt she was riding the six-figure motorcycle I purchased for her. I had to be the most pussy-whipped man ever to live.

And Lana was tough. I'd tried to tap through her impenetrable shell to reach the tender side of her but failed. Other women had been extremely clingy and wanted my time and affection. Brigit was always there but drained me of my energy. And when I hadn't given her attention, she sought comfort in alcohol and prescription drugs. It made me less interested in what she had to offer. I'd continuously searched for a substitute, a woman who would give me the sex I desired. And Perla was a fallacy—the construct of a young boy who desperately wanted to prove himself a man.

Lana was happy to give me space—almost too much. We'd existed on separate solar systems. However, when we were together, our fiery stars had aligned, exploding on contact. The aftershocks were even more pleasurable because it was just us, connecting on a deeper level.

Cory entered my office, interrupting my thoughts. "Sir, that deposit you had me make to Lana Coto's bank account has been returned."

Taking off my reading glasses, I turned my office chair to face him. "When? How?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"This morning." He handed me a printout of the transfer. I scanned the document. "It was transmitted into your discretionary fund."

A combination of relief and concern coursed through me. The return of my money made me happy that she hadn't scammed me, but I feared that without a job or money, she wouldn't be able to take care of herself. "Now, how would she know to get it to that account?"

"Don't know, sir. One more thing." I stared at him to get on with it, angered that I didn't have time to process the information. "I retrieved a message from the motorcycle dealer. Lana returned the bike. There's no mileage on it, she didn't ride it at all. It's in perfect condition, so they want to know if you want to receive credit or a refund with a stocking fee."