Stolen Futures (The Meikle Billionaire Triplets Book One) Page 3

  Huh…a tub big enough to hold five people and five robes. I pushed up my lips thinking it over. They did say rich people were into kinky things. Whoever the owner of this bathroom was, may have liked more than one man in her bathtub with her, it seems.

  Sitting on the marble tub, I looked at myself in the floor to ceiling mirror on the left side of the room and reached for the stitches across my head. I winced at the sharp pain at my fingertips. It was still very tender. I had not expected to be this damaged but at least I was alive.

  I worked my shirt off as best as I could. Pulling the IV line and bag through the arm of my shirt and came face to face with the bandages wrapped around me, from my ribs to my chest.

  I thought of Christoff, seeing my breasts and I smiled, biting my lower lip. Had he looked away, or did he stare and take his fill of my smooth light chocolate skin and light round nipples?

  The idea of it made me smile wider and I threw the shirt in my hand onto one of the vanity chairs in front of the mirror. Slowly, I undid the bandage and saw the black and blue bruises spotted in several places around my front, sides, and back. Some bigger and darker than the rest.

  “Uggh.” I sighed, lowering myself in the hot bath. “A good soak and onto plan C.”

  Christoff

  “Have the mystery lady sign this as soon as possible.” Milo said as he threw down a sealed envelope onto my lap as I nursed a glass of scotch that had been in my hand for over an hour.

  Eyeing the slick black-haired Italian, I ignored him and finally drained the rest of my drink. It was four in the afternoon and I was starting to smell like a drunk. The past three days had been nothing but added stress to my life and between Milo, Ludger, and José those three had been thorns in my side ever since... each one nagging me with their own thoughts on what I should have done with Miss Roadkill.

  In the end, the only thing the three actually agreed on was that I should have taken her to the hospital and dealt with things the ‘right way’. But when had I ever done things the ‘right way’ was my question.

  Maybe if I did, I probably wouldn’t have been in Florida three days ago and I sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting here dealing with Milo’s high and mighty bullshit right about now.

  “What’s in it?” I asked putting the glass on the table next to me and picking up the brown envelope.

  Milo took the seat across from me in the office and undid his blue tie and shirt cuffs. “Charles drew up a small agreement. Mystery lady agrees that she will not sue nor look for any payment plans from us, as we have respected her wishes during the accident and paid for her full recovery. If she will be needing physical therapy, we will gladly see that she gets the best help that we can afford as well as a forty thousand settlement cheque for anything else she might need in the future.” He combed his hair with his fingers and adjusted his narrow glasses on his face. “She will agree to no further contact with us and most importantly will agree not to talk with the media about any of this.”

  Nodding, I read through the papers. “What is it exactly that will make her take our offer and have her sign the agreement?” I looked over the papers then glanced in his direction.

  He looked at me and I could see the glimmer of amusement in them. He knew something I didn’t. “Miss Walker is an eighty-two-year-old woman who died seven years ago but is still collecting her Social Security cheques.” A devious smile tugged at the corner of his lips, this small victory he was enjoying since I had put him to work on finding out her identity.

  Her cell phone had been damaged during the accident and I had searched her bag looking for a wallet for any form of identification but there had been none. Instead, there had been a password protected iPad, a laser virtual keyboard, a small USB and a lock pick set. Not at all what one would expect to find in a woman's bag, but it sure made me know that Miss Roadkill was more than just an “accident.”

  Waiting for her to awake, I sat night after night by her side and watched her closely, trying to decide what my next move was before sentencing myself to the “I told you so” and a series of lectures about my safety as well as my family’s safety from Joey Mancini.

  The first night was what had kept me from telling Milo and Ludger right away. She had awoken when I had just given her the morphine around eight in the evening and she had smiled at me, then softly thanked me for keeping her safe. In that brief moment, before drifting back to sleep, her gratitude had been genuine. Her smile, real and innocent. It was what that smile did to me that made me hold off.

  Last night, when she woke up screaming in pain, I was on the phone. I had to tell Milo and Ludger what I had found in her bag. And when she lied about her name, my silent suspicions had been confirmed. She had been so unconcerned when I told her about all of her injuries that I had to hand it to her for actually getting my attention.

  Of course, Milo and Ludger thought otherwise. They wanted Miss Roadkill gone as soon as she was able to walk, while I was, and still am, interested in what exactly her endgame was.

  “Her name?” I asked putting the envelope down beside me. Not wanting to read, when Milo had the information already stored in his memory.

  “Luelle Poole, twenty-one years of age and a former juvenile delinquent. She spent a year in juvenile detention for underage possession and consumption of alcohol and marijuana, then upped that to distributing and selling of alcohol and marijuana to upper-class kids between the ages of fifteen to seventeen. No parents, raised by grandparents until she left a month after doing her time in juvie and now seems to walk a straight road. At least that would be the case if you hadn’t found what you did in her bag.”

  “Mhmm.” I offered, my mind a thousand miles away to the bedroom down the hallway.

  Milo sighed, “Christoff, you have been like this since the reading of your father’s will. I know it’s not what you had hoped for, but you had to expect it coming from him. Maja was his pride and he would do anything to keep her safe.” He shifted in his seat. “Even if that meant putting you and Rolf in the line of fire.”

  My attention was brought back to the room and I stared resentful at Milo for bringing this up. “Sì, she was his golden child, but putting her in the hands of Lorenzo Mancini, isn’t exactly the safest place for her. Out of all the Mancini brothers, he chose Lorenzo.” My frustration grew more and I got up taking my glass with me to the small bar behind Milo. “Dad knew the man's reputation for beating women and he still wants Maja…”

  I trailed off not wanting to finish the sentence. My thoughts going dark.

  “We already know that Maja will not be going anywhere near Lorenzo. Not unless you don’t do what needs to be done to protect your sister. Rolf would in a heartbeat if he was firstborn, but unfortunately, the fates did not deem it so. Now it’s your responsibility, to keep your sister safe, even if it means giving up your freedom. And unfortunately in this case, it does.”

  “Yes, but to a Mancini?” I poured myself another glass of scotch and swallowed it down in one gulp. The burning sensation warming my chest and helping fuel my anger. “All I need is time! That’s all I need, and I can find a way out of this.”

  “Capo, it is just a title.” Milo half sighed as he rose to his feet and turned to me. “You could still do as you please, and Ludger and I would be right beside you to see to that. You know this, Christoff so why make a big deal about it?” He gave me an apologetic look, “You hired me to ease your life and wellbeing by any means necessary and with as little stress to you.”

  I ran a hand over my jaw and scratched the stubble that was growing. I knew Milo would see to it that I had my freedom, but it would just be an illusion. At nights when I go to bed and wake in the mornings, Gianna Mancini would still be there.

  The door to the office opened and Marlene, my traveling housekeeper walked in with a tray of food. She stopped and looked at Milo, who was facing away from her and then at me. Shaking her head when she saw the open bottle of scotch in my hand and the empty glass in the other.


  “Dinner time and then we leave for the night, Christoff.” She said ignoring the tension in the room. “The young Miss is awake. She ate and had a bath and I allowed her a phone call to family.”

  “You did what?!” Milo spun in her direction.

  She ignored him and looked over at me. “She needed to tell family she is alright. I listened to the call.”

  I nodded but Milo spoke first. “You don’t know that it’s family Marlene. It could have been a lie!”

  “You wanted to be the one to tell the girl she is a hostage?” she asked at Milo’s confused look. Hands on her hips as she faced him. “She started saying we keeping her hostage. I could not make her think that about us, or Christoff. So, you keep you self quiet. I did the right thing.”

  Milo rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You both make my job molto difficile.”

  “You did the right thing, Marlene, thank you,” I said before Milo could get in another word and upset Marlene more. The last thing I needed was for the lady that took care of my food and clothing to be upset at me for having Milo trying to boss her around. "Where is she now?”

  “She should be getting dressed now and coming outside if she is not too tired.”

  “In that case, I will go speak with her and get her to sign the papers. The sooner we get rid of her the faster we can get back to dealing with our –”

  “I’ll talk to her Milo,” I said suddenly, making both Milo and Marlene stare at me as if I had said something wrong. “You both can go for the night. I’ll see that this gets done in a timely manner.”

  They both looked at each other and then back to me. Marlene gave me a disapproving look and shook her head, while Milo fixed his glasses and reached for the envelope, he handed me earlier, giving me a knowing look.

  “Capo, see that it gets done fast, sì?” He handed it to me and offered Marlene his hand, which she took. “Call us if you need us.”

  “Goodnight Christoff,” Marlene called back softly, as she was being led out the room.

  “Goodnight Marlene.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  LUELLE

  After the longest soak in the world's most luxurious bathroom, I returned to the bedroom to find that Marlene had changed the sheets while I had my bath. She had also placed some clean clothes on the bed for me, neatly stacked at the edge. A white shirt and pajama bottoms. With the clothes being all white and after seeing the bathroom, I had to say that the owner of the room had a thing for white and gold.

  Once I was dressed, I went into the next room, to search for an office or a work area and instead I was greeted by an impeccable view of the Miami skyline. The blue-green ocean was so beautiful it took my breath away for a moment and I had to remind myself that I wasn’t there to take in the sights. But man, it was something I could get used to.

  The rays from the bright afternoon sun glistened across the water like diamonds, as the waves softly rocked the ocean in what seemed like a lullaby.

  Seeing what the rich see was only a punishment to myself. I would never in a million years ever see or experience a life filled with such beauty, heavenly baths or safe and warm beds. But man, could a girl dream!

  Focus Elle.

  Getting back on track, I looked around the room to find an open living, dining and kitchen area, expecting to see Marlene but didn’t. Satisfied that I was alone I walked further in the room standing in between the black marble kitchen countertop and the large lounge chair, with its matching four-seat sofa. The blue-green seating colors complimented the area well with the color of the ocean right outside the floor to ceiling glass windows and sliding doors.

  A gray carpet stretched out in front of the sofa and on top sat two designer metallic end tables in the middle. One with a few reading books neatly stacked on the top and bottom and the other with a few picture frames of the Meikle family and a throw blanket stashed at the bottom.

  A matching black twelve seat dining table stood a few inches from beside the kitchen counter on the other side and there was no sign of a laptop or an office area. In fact, the whole apartment sounded quiet–— too quiet.

  “Marlene?” I called out, biting my lower lip and listening out for a reply.

  No answer. I pushed my IV-pole forward, to take a look in the laundry room I saw further behind the kitchen.

  “She’s left for the day.”

  Jumping at the sudden sound of another voice, I turned clutching my chest.

  “Jesus fucking Christ!” I yelled facing Christoff. “Give a girl some warning, would you!”

  A slight smile tugged at his lips, but he kept a straight face.

  “My apologies. I didn’t mean to scare you like that...Sabrina.”

  There it was again! The way he said my name after pausing. He made it sound like a lie. It was a lie, but still he made it seem more like a lie coming from him.

  I looked him over, catching my breath. He was wearing a well-ironed black suit, a white shirt tucked in, which did a perfect job in showing off his athletic well...everything.

  He wore his dark brown hair short and he had stubble growing along his jawline. His brown eyes were relaxed as he stared at me and his thin lips pressed tightly together. You could see that he was drunk, but he tried to hide it well, by standing straight and focusing his eyes on me. But the smell of alcohol was not hard to miss.

  The thought of a drunk man, a rich drunk man at that, sent thrills of excitement down my spine and I gave him a wide smile. “So... Meikle right?” He nodded. “You run me over with your fancy car and then save my life. I guess a kind of thank you is in order, as well as an apology.”

  He scoffed. “You’re welcome and I'm sorry. But I'm more interested in knowing how you ended up in front of my fancy car...Sabrina.”

  I ignored the way he said my name again and sat down on the lounge chair.

  "I think I was pushed." I said with my eyes wide open. Hoping that my innocent act would look natural.

  "You think?" He came and sat beside me, softly running a hand through my hair. "How is your head?"

  Suddenly shy, I shifted uncomfortably as he searched through my wet curls for the stitches. "Yeah, I think. I mean I felt a hand on my back and the next thing I knew I was falling. That's all I remembered. And my head is doing just fine, thank you." I started to move away but he stilled my movements.

  His hand was warm and rough, but his touch was so soft against my skin. The last time I felt hands like those was three years ago, from Gerald, before he was sent to jail for armed burglary on our last job. Even still, Christoff's touch was much more soothing. But that could just be because he was looking at my wound and I had medicine coursing through me.

  I don’t know what it was about this man, but he made me uncomfortable and shy around him at the same time. Two things no one would ever say about me once they knew me. It was almost as if he rendered me powerless.

  I wondered if he did this to just me or to all the other ladies in his life. The thought was amusing.

  Turning to face him, I was forced to look up and see his handsome, half-drunk face. The smell of alcohol coming from him was mixed with the smell of his cologne and was slightly turning me on.

  “Let's get down to business, shall we?” I choked out, forcing myself to get back on track and remember what I was there for. "How long do you plan to keep me here, without phone privileges?”

  He raised an eyebrow at me and took a deep breath, settling himself and no doubt his now ravenous libido.

  “You can have your phone privileges back once you sign a contract for me. As for your freedom, you can leave at any time. Given that you are a hundred percent better and in no need for any physical therapy.”

  I cracked my neck and nodded, a contract and a look into physical therapy. His team had it all sorted out while I was unconscious.

  “I think I will take you up on that physical therapy. My ribs still hurt, and I would hate to leave here when you’re so willing to help me.” More like I needed to stay longer and
find your computer. “And of course, I'll sign your contract once I've read it, but you can trust me. I won't say a word to anyone.”

  “Hard to trust someone who insisted on no police or ambulance, when they had just become essentially roadkill." He looked down his nose at me, and his eyes turned dark as he gave me a more serious look.

  “I hate hospitals and the police make everything into a much bigger deal than what it ever really is. So, I avoid both.” I shrugged. “Nothing more to it than that Meikle.”

  He studied my face longer, but I was well trained in keeping a straight poker face. “I’ll accept that answer for now.” He mumbled and got up offering me his hand. Hesitantly, I took it and he helped me up and started leading me past the bedroom doors and down the hall towards the front door. All the while pushing the pole along with us.

  “I have a new phone for you. As yours was damaged during the accident. Consider it a gift for almost making you roadkill.”

  He opened a door to the right of us and as we went straight ahead in the darkroom, I mentally smiled at the sight of a Mac desktop resting on top of a large office desk. This was just too easy.

  He continued to lead me through the door and sat me down on one of the

  dark brown sofas. He walked over to the table and picked up a new iPhone X box along with my backpack and a brown sealed envelope.

  Handing me both, he took a seat beside me and relaxed on the arm of the sofa. He opened the envelope and out slid a few papers and a pen. “For you, Sabrina.”

  Keeping my eyes on him, I accepted the papers and started reading. I read the first two paragraphs and skipped a few lines and continued reading. When I was finished, I lowered the papers on my lap and met Christoff’s expectant eyes. For a while we sat there, just staring at each other until finally I broke the silence.

  “You knew. How did you know?”

  He nodded. “The night you woke up and gave me your fake name, I knew you lied. So, I decided to go looking for myself.” He cleared his throat. “I only want to know why.”