As usual, Taylor was two steps ahead of me. He'd already secured the builder's blueprint of Elena's townhouse, having identified likely hiding spots to check out. Appreciating Elliot would want to play a part in the bitch's downfall, I asked Taylor to send the schematics across on my impenetrable VPN so Elliot could weigh in with his suggestions. Given El's team had fit out the salons, he'd have the information to give Taylor about hidey holes there. Between them, and the untraceable team Taylor promised to provide, I was confident if there was anything to find at Elena's home or workplace, they'd discover it.
"I'd like you and Ms. Steele to stay in Montana until at least the beginning of next week," Taylor ordered. "The security team will be maxed out achieving this. Protecting the two of you in town would place an unnecessary additional burden. Plus, if questions are ever asked, it would be helpful if we can prove you were out of town."
"Should I be seen?" I asked. Letting the press know where I was could be a double-edged sword.
"Not necessarily. Maybe ask your grandparents to entertain a few friends? Some casual snaps on other people's phones would be useful. If not, some photos of you with the house in the background or at breakfast reading the paper would suffice. It needs to look innocent and not like you are setting up an alibi."
I grunted in acknowledgment. Mia was a menace with a camera, so she'd probably take more than enough photos to provide Ana and me proof we'd been here. Still—I'd mention it to Mum, Dad, and my grandparents, too.
"When are you thinking?" I asked. Time was of the essence. I needed to know the bitch had nothing on me before I took her down.
"Thursdays and Fridays are busy at the salons. Mrs. Lincoln is regularly in attendance. We'll have a group with eyes on her all day. As soon as she leaves her townhouse, a team will enter. They'll bypass her security system, then systematically go through the place. Once we're sure the place is clear, we'll stage the place as a robbery and set off the alarm. The idea is she'll be occupied with police at her home, so won't have time to visit the salons. Separate teams will go to each salon overnight and search them. The ideal is this will go undetected. Once we are as confident as well can be, and you get word from the audit team, it will be time to move."
I listened. It was probably the best option, yet I was still concerned.
"What if it doesn't work? What if you are detected?"
"Then you know nothing, Sir. I'm a rogue employee who didn't know their place."
"I can't ask you to do that," I replied.
"You don't have to. Just like I know that if I go down, Gail and Sophie will be looked after for life. A house of her own for Gail and enough coming in each year she doesn't have to work again. The rest of her schooling and an excellent college education for Sophie."
Unseen by Taylor, I shook my head. Like I'd let him sell himself so cheaply. Even if all my secrets came out and GEH foundered, I had enough in investments I would never need to work again. Nor my kids, grandkids, and even great-grandkids. I appreciated loyalty, and if push came to shove, Taylor and those he loved would have mine. No questions asked.
"That goes without saying."
"Then let me do what needs to be done, Sir."
As I'd anticipated, Grandma Adele needed little encouragement to host a grill out on Friday night with some of their local friends. If it surprised her that I, usually Mr. Reclusive, was the one to suggest it, she mentioned nothing. She probably knew part of the reason is I wanted to show off my girlfriend.
Thursday during the day, Dad, Elliot, and Gramps went around the property, doing minor maintenance jobs, checking fences, and ensuring the wood store was well stocked for winter. Since I was useless at those things, I stayed behind. Ana was curled up on the sofa editing a minor GEH subsidiary's marketing materials while Mia was with Grams and Mrs. Bridge planning what sides to serve tomorrow and making a shopping list for what they needed to buy. With everyone else occupied, it was the perfect time to talk to Mom.
Wandering the house, I found her in the library curled up on a chaise long, her nose deep in a true-crime novel.
"I don't know how you can read those," I said when she looked up and noticed me. "Surely there's enough bad in the world without having to read about it?"
"A criminal's mind is fascinating," she replied. "At times, incomprehensible, which is what makes it so engaging." Putting down the book, she patted the unoccupied part of the chaise beside her. "What's wrong, Christian?"
I sat, unsurprised Mom knew I had something on my mind. I'd concealed a lot from her over the years—Elena and my practice as a dominant a case in point—but she still had a mother's ability to sense when something was troubling me.
"It's about Mia. I'm worried about her."
"What's going on?"
"I think she drinks too much. I've been monitoring things for a while, and I'm worried she's an alcoholic."
Mom sighed. This didn't seem to be entirely a surprise to her.
"You know how I let her use the owner's suite at The Mile High with her friends? Well, for the last month or so, I've had them report back to me how much she consumes when she is there, and frankly, it's alarming." Mom went to say something, but I held up my hand to continue. "If that were the only time she indulged, I could let it go, but every time I see her, she's drinking. Mimosas, cocktails, wine—she always has a drink in her hand. I have gone over her credit card statement, and there are regular purchases from the Bellevue Wine Shop. Besides her social drinking, she's buying at least one case of wine a week, which I assume she drinks at home. Finally, I have spoken to Gamboa, and he says he can't remember the last day when she hasn't had at least two or three drinks."
Mom nodded, looking weary. "I've had my concerns, too," she admitted. "In fact, that's one reason your father was so determined Mia accompany us on this trip. We wanted to see if she has a problem. From what you're telling me, the answer is clearly yes."
"What do you think we should do about it?" I asked, trying to get a read on how my parents saw things.
"Your father and I aren't on the same page about this. I'd like to talk with her and encourage her to join Alcoholics Anonymous. Your father thinks a rehabilitation program is more appropriate." I nodded, thinking Dad had the right idea.
"Whatever you decide, I'll pay for it. It's partially my fault it's come to this."
"It's not your fault, darling," my mother said, patting my hand with hers. "You and your brother always knew what you wanted to do. Mia's never been that way. Your father and I thought if we gave her a year after high school, she'd find her direction. Well, one year turned into two, then three. I think meeting Ana showed your father and me just how aimless and unfocussed we've allowed Mia to become. Hearing how diligently Ana worked to put herself through college and pursue a career has been eye-opening."
Mom was right. Ana and Mia were chalk and cheese.
"Now about Ana... How is that going?"
"Wonderfully," I replied with what was no doubt a sappy smile. "She's agreed to move in with me. As a girlfriend, I mean."
"You're serious about her then?"
"Very much so. If Elliot wants Great Grandma Violet's ring, he better put his skates on..."
Mom gasped, her hand covering her mouth, eyes as wide as saucers. Great Grandma Violet, Mom's grandmother, and Grandma Adele's mother left her jewelry to Mom. She wore some of it, had earmarked some of it to go to Mia when she passed on, however, Great Grandma Violet's engagement ring had been put aside for a daughter-in-law. Since everyone had decided I was gay, and given Mia wasn't, the family had long assumed Elliot would be the one to use the ring. With the way things were going, I was certain I'd have cause to ask for it before he did.
"You're thinking of proposing?"
"Not yet. It's too soon and we're still getting to know one another. But when I think of my future, I see Ana in it," I admitted. Witnessing my mother's gargantuan grin, I couldn't help rolling my eyes. She was already planning the wedding, I could tell.
"Yes, there's no hurry. Ana's a lovely girl—you'll know when the time is right."
"So you approve?" I asked, feeling strangely vulnerable.
"When I picture your future, I see her in it, too."
"You know you don't have to work?" I grumbled when I returned to the family room to find Ana diligently tapping away on her laptop. Seeing my girl working on her vacation for a handful of dollars an hour annoyed me—especially since I knew I was making a hundred grand an hour from investments alone.
"You're wrong," she said with a sweet smile, saving her work and shutting the laptop. "My self-worth and self-esteem are tied to me working. I understand you want to give me everything. Please understand I enjoy what I'm doing. I'm achieving my dream."
I considered her words. When she put it that way, I could understand her position.
"Speaking of self-worth and self-esteem, I wanted to talk to you about living together. I agreed to move in with you, but you never listened to my conditions. If we're going to live together, I want to pay my way."
I immediately tensed as I had no clue where she was headed with this.
"I'd like to contribute half to the household costs," Ana declared. It was all I could do not to snort in laughter. A household like mine cost thousands to run. Even though I owned the apartment outright, the security costs, Mrs. Jones' wage, Escala amenity fees, and the other services I contracted cost me thousands. Anastasia could work five of her graduate-level jobs and not come close to covering half the expense.
"What do you have in mind?" I asked cautiously.
"Well, for a start, I'd like to pay for half the food."
"I understand you'd like to contribute, but half is not appropriate. The grocery bill covers Taylor, Mrs. Jones, and all the on-duty security staff plus guests and visitors. I can ask Mrs. Jones to calculate a weekly cost, but it is likely to be less than 1/15th of the grocery account." Less if I had my way. And I would.
"A fifteenth isn't much," Anastasia argued.
"Have you seen the way the security staff eats? Ryan has been known to eat an entire roast chicken by himself. These are physically active men, baby. They'd be working for me either way—you shouldn't have to pay for them to eat."
"Ok. Then I'd also like to contribute to the electricity, water, and Internet bills."
"Electricity and Internet, no. There is no additional expense to either with you living with me. I have the most eco-sustainable LED lighting, much of it fueled by solar. At the odd time you are in a room without me with the lights on, the cost is negligible. And at Escala we have a corporate unlimited Internet plan, so any additional usage will cost me no extra."
"What about the water?" Ana asked, a v forming between her eyebrows. She was like a dog with a bone about this.
"That's fine. Again, I will get Mrs. Jones to work out your share." And it would be fuck all. I'd make sure of it.
"What about gas and security expenses? You have to pay those, too."
"No," I declared adamantly. "Yes, there are expenses associated with that, but that's because of who I am. If you were living with average Joe Blow, you wouldn't need to be driven places or have a CPO looking out for you. I refuse to let you pay for things you only need because of who I am."
I must have got my point across because Ana nodded in acquiescence, but she looked sad. I could tell she wanted to feel like an equal contributor to our home, and I'd thwarted her at every turn. Wracking my brain for something small she could contribute to, I thought about the flowers. Gail had some guy come through every week to provide a fresh arrangement for the elevator vestibule and a couple of bouquets inside. To be honest, I barely noticed them, but it seemed like the sort of thing Ana might be interested in, especially as it might help her make her mark on where we lived.
"How about you pay half the flower bill?" I suggested. "A florist comes through every week with arrangements for the apartment. How about you pay one week, and I'll pay the next?"
Anastasia's smile was instant. "I'd like that. Do you have any preference for flowers?"
I told her I didn't. Since it was something she seemed interested in, I'd get Gail to word the dude up. Whatever Ana wanted, she'd get no matter the cost. He could keep track. The bill on her weeks would be minuscule. The following week he could add the additional from Ana's week to my account.
"Thank you," Ana said, throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me with fervor before straddling me on the sofa. I was getting hard and was contemplating taking my girl upstairs to do something that was neither hearts nor flowers when my phone rang. Since I was only expecting a call from Taylor, I knew I needed to pick up.
"Ugh," I groaned, moving Ana off my lap onto the sofa beside me before pulling my cell out of my pocket—a feat made more difficult by my raging hard-on. Fuck, my girl could get me standing to attention without even trying!
"Yes?" I answered, not giving anything away.
"First stage accomplished," Taylor said, not bothering to introduce himself. "We were lucky she left the laptop at home today, so it disappeared along with other expensive items."
"Did you find anything?" I asked, my heart pounding furiously.
"We did. There were three boxes labeled by name in a hidden cavity within her closet. Photos of her assaulting you and other information about yourself, and two other underaged men."
"And you're confident you got it all?" I asked, my heart in my mouth.
"As confident as I can be, Sir. We were there for six hours. The team had the best detection equipment. We staged the scene as a robbery. Other teams will be in each salon tonight while Lincoln is occupied with the police at her home."
"You're sure she won't go to the salons?"
"Barney has disabled the automatic SMS that's sent to her cell when the alarm system at the salons is disabled. There'll also be no record in the system of either alarm being turned off tonight. I have multiple eyes on her to ensure she doesn't leave the townhouse, including an overly dedicated police officer who will question her for hours."
"And the FBI?"
"Poised to move tomorrow morning. Given her tax evasion and now documented theft from GEH, they intend to request an immediate freeze of her assets. She's unlikely to get bail as she's an obvious flight risk. I wanted your opinion on tipping off the press about her arrest."
I thought about it. For Elena, reputation was everything. Having her publicly dragged, kicking and screaming, from her home or Esclava would be the icing on my cake, yet cornered she could be dangerous. She'd only have to say one or two things about me or my lifestyle in front of the paps, and I'd be fucked.
"Ask the FBI to pick her up at home. Use your phones to film it in case it becomes relevant. And make sure they say nothing about the GEH audit when they arrest her. I need to her to think there's a chance I might rescue her so she doesn't mouth off."
"Understood, Sir."
"I really am sorry to interrupt your vacation time with Gail," I said in apology, eyeing my woman sitting on the couch beside me. I resented even this slight interruption of our alone time. Taylor must be furious.
"We'll talk about that once this is sorted," Taylor replied. Yep. I was going to owe them both big time.
"My grandparents are entertaining tomorrow afternoon and evening," I offered, not wanting to discuss my debt right now.
"I think that's wise. A casual family photo posted on some unrelated person's Facebook account would be just the thing," he suggested.
"I'll do what I can," I said. "Thank you. You can't imagine how much I appreciate all you do," I said before hanging up.
"Is everything ok?" Ana asked. She'd heard my half of the conversation, so had an idea of what was going on.
"Better than it has been in a while," I said, scared, but optimistic. The next twenty-four hours should settle things one way or another. "It's almost time for dinner. I need to make a few business calls. Could you maybe help Mom and Mrs. Bridge in the kitchen?"
Ana nodded with a knowing look. She knew I didn't want to make the next calls in front of her. Brushing her lips across mine, she told me she loved me before disappearing to find Mom and Gram's housekeeper. Once I knew she was out of earshot, I rang my personal attorney, Rutten. Running him through as much as I could, I listened to his advice. Once we'd discussed my situation, I dialed Woods and added him to the dialogue, the three of us discussing the potential Esclava/Elena fallout and how best to deal with it.
"No matter what happens, I want Anastasia protected," I insisted. "If push comes to shove, it's her interests first every time, ok?"
"I don't advise that..." Rutten said concerned. Yes. He, like I, knew that could be my ruin.
"I hear you, and I don't care. Ana first in any situation. Not negotiable."
Rutten was silent, his lack of conversation an obvious objection to my position.
"I understand, and we'll do our best, Mr. Grey," Woods said. "Ms. Steele is to be protected at all costs."
We spoke for ten minutes more; me outlining worst-case scenarios. Checking my watch once we were done, I had time before dinner to make a last call.
"Ros? It's Christian. I told you how Elena Lincoln is defrauding us. Well, a shit-show might be about to descend, and I need to tell you everything, so you're not blindsided..."
Walking into my grandparents' eat-in kitchen/meals area, I felt oddly calm. One way, or another, in twenty-four hours, I'd be free. Freedom might mean everyone learning about my sordid past, yet even that might be a relief. I'd lived with shame from the moment Elena first molested me. If it were time to pay the piper, then so be it. At least now, thanks to Taylor, I had proof Elena had abused me. If she outed me as part of the lifestyle, I'd return the favor—naming her as the pedophile who'd indoctrinated me into the lifestyle. Either way, she was going down. It just depended on how bad she wanted to make it for herself.
"Everything ok, baby?" Ana asked, slipping her arm around my waist and looking up at me with those gorgeous bright blue eyes.
"Yes," I replied, brushing my lips across hers. No matter what happened now, I was confident all would be well.
"Then let's eat dinner," she said, her hand caressing my arm. "Mrs. Bridge made pot roast, but I made chocolate cake for dessert."
"Just one?" I blurted out, intending to stand guard in front of the oven or refrigerator if required. My girl might have thought I was joking when I said her cakes were all for me. I hadn't been kidding.
"I made four," Anastasia said with the sweetest giggle. "Yours is the largest," she added, leaning up to kiss me as she gently stroked my chest directly over my heart.
"I should expect so," I retorted.