Behind Her Smile (24 page)

“There’s something oddly arousing about a woman begging for her life, don’t you think?” David asks his cohorts.

My breath catches in my throat. Goosebumps pop up along the back of my neck, running down my shoulders and arms.

“It’s a little late for alternative options,” David continues without remorse. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to get rid of you. I can’t have any loose ends.”

“That’s what I am—a loose end? We’ve been married for five years. When your family died, we clung to each other. You said you loved me. I don’t believe our emotional connection was a hoax. Yes, things are at an all-time low. We’ve grown apart. Why not move on without looking back?” I want to keep him talking. Maybe I can convince him this idea is crazy. I don’t focus on the hard glint in his eyes, I think about the tiny part of him that must have loved me.

“Oh, Karolina.” David’s tone drips with pity. He closes the distance between us and strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. I fight back a flinch. “You’re sweet, thinking that I have any problem with getting rid of you. It’s time you realize I don’t give a fuck about you. Never did. I needed a pretty, spineless girl to do exactly as I said. You played right into my hand with your desperation for someone to love you. The poor, trailer park trash who had parents who didn’t care if you lived or died.” The wince comes with a painful jab at my heart. “If I wanted to run the Morgan Financial empire, I needed a wife. Family values and all that shit. Appearances, right?” His lips twist with sardonic glee. He moves back to his seat, crossing one leg over the other casually.

“Once I got my rightful position at the head of Morgan Financial, I had the unfortunate experience of finding out I was wrong. As you know, Karolina, that doesn’t happen often, and naturally, it angered me. You couldn’t do anything right. No matter how many people you met, no matter how many dinner parties we went to, you couldn’t land me the clients I needed to keep the business in the black.”

I knew my husband was cruel and abusive, but now I have to add delusional to the list. How could I be responsible for closing deals? It doesn’t make any sense. David’s the one who lives and breathes Morgan Financial. The weight of the whole company doesn’t rest on my shoulders.

I don’t have hope that I can reach him, but still, I try. “Please, David, we made vows.”

He makes a tsking noise and shakes his head. “Come on. Stop being naïve. The vows meant nothing. You were a means to an end. Unfortunately, for both of us, the end was not what I had initially planned. No bother. I have experience cleaning up these types of messes.”

“What kind of experience?” I don’t try to mask my dread.

Even though Cox and the Latino still stand in the room, I barely notice them. We are on the precipice of something earth shattering. The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.

David goes giddy. When he speaks, he
gloats
. “At some point, I thought you would have figured this out. Then again, you aren’t really that bright, something I wanted in a wife.”

The insult does nothing to me. “Say it,” I challenge him. “What makes you this proud?”

“It took longer than expected to find someone who knew aviation well enough to enact the plan. Then I came across Victor here, a Cuban engineer by trade who snuck into Florida without filtering through the immigration system.”

Bile bubbles up in my throat. I swallow through a tight throat.

“Mother and Father were going to give the company to Chandler. They thought he was a better leader than I was. Fucking morons. I showed them what kind of leader I could be. All I wanted was what they promised me since I was a child. Then they decided Chandler was better than me—their firstborn son!” David shoots to his feet, fury overtaking him. The chair hits the carpet with a dull thud. Victor and Cox take a few steps backward, watching David warily. “There was no choice,” he rants. “They had to go or I would never get what was rightfully mine. Did you know I started working at Morgan Financial when I was thirteen years old? Dad had me filing and handing out mail. Chandler didn’t care about the business until he was in college. He didn’t deserve to run Morgan Financial. He should have reported to me! I was the older brother, and he didn’t care about the business until he realized no one else would hire him.” David pauses mid-step to focus his attention on me. “The dinner with you was their last chance to redeem themselves. We both remember how disgusting they behaved, attacking me like vultures. Treating their firstborn like that, they didn’t deserve to live. Only took one phone call to rid myself of them forever.”

“You don’t mean that.” The words burst from within me. An insurmountable wall of grief threatens to collapse around me. I tremble with disbelief and horror.

David watches me with an air of smug satisfaction. “Of course, I mean it, Karolina. By now you should fully realize I will go to whatever lengths it takes to end up with my desired result.”

“Stop talking in circles. Tell me. I need to know my imagination isn’t wrong.”

Swiftly, David walks directly in front of me. He places one hand on either arm of the chair and leans down close enough that his Armani cologne wraps around me like a noose.

“I paid to have my family killed. And I don’t regret it for one minute.”

Alec

T
he Premier Tower juts into the Miami skyline proudly as the tallest building in the city’s thriving downtown. Upon its completion last year, I relocated my staff of one hundred into the building because it’s the best address in Miami. For the most part, I avoid parading my wealth around and drawing attention to myself. But for the past six months or so, I haven’t been myself. Scowling at my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling windows that have an impressive view of the Atlantic Ocean, I run a hand through my unruly hair. Another thing I haven’t paid much attention to—my hair is longer and more unmanageable than usual, and I have a full beard instead of stubble.

This should be enough. A successful business, wealth beyond my wildest imagination, homes in Miami and New York, and a yacht. Power and influence among politicians and leaders in society and business. Yet I find myself unfulfilled . . . restless, even. The success that once filled me with pride and endless satisfaction is withering.

“You know what’s bothering you,” I mutter to myself.

Karolina.
By now, she’s given birth to the baby I was shocked as hell to learn about. For all my talk of owning information, I don’t want to know anything about that. Normally, I hear bits and pieces and see Karolina and David at social gatherings. I’ve steadfastly avoided any event where I know they might attend and haven’t asked for anything on the Morgan couple, other than listening to the random reports denoting the decline of Morgan Financial. The level of stupidity David Morgan sinks to is almost laughable. How he thinks he can maintain a business with fraudulent activity is beyond my comprehension. From what I hear, it’s a matter of time before the Feds have enough dirt to crack down on his duplicitous scheme and throw him away.

Regret, an unfamiliar emotion, builds in my chest. Karolina will be well and truly screwed with David’s baby on her hands after he is sent to prison. That’s not my problem, though. She made her choice when she had a baby with that insufferable prick.

I am not familiar with regret. There is little time in life to second-guess decisions. But with Karolina, I made mistakes at every turn. For a man who is used to winning and defying the competition at all odds, I lost what I most wanted to my greatest adversary.

Karolina was nothing like the innocent, guileless, inspiring young artist I thought. Karolina Morgan is just as ruthless as her pathetic excuse for a husband. I see her clearly—the woman who wants to run in the highest social scenes, wear the latest fashions, and own the most coveted jewels. She’s materialistic, shallow, and worse, weak because she threw away the raw, natural talent that could have made her a real success as a designer.

That’s what I told myself when I found out she was pregnant.

But how could I believe any of that bullshit? All along, I felt like the second choice, and I was furious when she told me she was pregnant with David’s child. The truth was that Karolina didn’t make a choice because I never told her she had one.

It would be easy to destroy Karolina’s character because she, unknowingly, crushed me. I know none of it’s true. Karolina is loyal to a fault. Intelligent way beyond what she believes in herself. Striking, breathtaking, gorgeous, lovely—all those words underscore her beauty. Once, I told her she has an overwhelming amount of potential. I realized my own potential to be a family man, to find a partner to love and cherish, and to find success outside an office after being around Karolina.

I lost her before I found her.

Really, I have no one to blame but myself. I practically hand-delivered Karolina to David with a bow wrapped around her. The ultimate gift. All because I cared more about living loose and free, unwilling to allow one woman to tie me down. I didn’t imagine they would marry as quickly as they did, but I suppose grief will inspire rash decisions. Standing there, watching them marry, I felt my first dose of regret. I couldn’t help myself—I had to get to know her better, even if I could never have her in any way other than friendship.

And yet here I sit, alone.

Pathetic.

A mechanic click and then a buzz from the intercom system on my phone interrupts my musings. Spinning the leather chair around, I press the button connecting me to my assistant.

“Yes, Liza?”

“Hector Martinez is here to see you,” she says in her crisp, efficient voice.

My eyebrows rise in surprise. “Send him in.” The door to my office opens and the man walks through with his usual arrogance. He sits opposite me as if he owns the place. Which the wealthy bastard does.

“Making house calls?” I joke. Rarely does Hector Martinez show up at my office. And he has never arrived without at least a text letting me know he’s on his way.

Hector is somewhat of a mentor to me. Ten years my senior, he appeared in my life when I was beginning to make a name for myself in Miami. A few connections later, and I had a long-term, lucrative renter for my first factory. Then Hector sold me a warehouse, and thus began a ten-year-and-counting business relationship. Eventually, the business side melded into friendship. Once I met Adriana, the woman brought me into the fold of their family. To the kids, I’m Uncle Alec. Laughable, really, when I think back on the young and spiteful man who wanted nothing more than money and power. Family or emotional attachments be damned.

“What would you say if I told you I learned of a husband plotting to murder his wife?” Hector has a way of speaking in riddles. Initially, I found him challenging. Now, I know better and play along. Eventually, we’ll get to the point. It was Hector, after all, who taught me the virtue of patience.

“Sounds pretty fucked up. Normally, I’m not fond of getting the boys in blue involved in business matters, but this one sounds like it needs to go through the system. Unless, of course . . .”

Hector stretches a pointer finger along the length of his cheek. The rest of his fingers curl into a fist, his thumb propping his chin. “And if the woman in question was more than just a woman. Someone we know well enough to care whether she lives or die. Does that change the way you answer?”

My shoulders stiffen. “If absolutely necessary, I’d take care of the problem myself. Though, I can’t think of too many women who I would step in to protect.” I level Hector with a steely gaze. “Except Adriana, in the event you ever needed me.”

The hand propping up Hector’s face falls to the armchair. “Loyalty is one of your finest characteristics, Alec. Though, I noticed it falter recently.”

“What does loyalty have to do with a man putting a hit out on his wife?” Exasperation threatens to drag an edge into my tone. To an outsider, it would appear I am in the position of power seated behind the massive desk. However, Hector maintains his dominance simply by his stoic expression. I don’t stand down to any man . . . except Hector. I respect him too much to act indifferent to his wishes.

“The young Karolina—”

It’s as if he punches me directly in my solar plexus. All the air is sucked from the room. Dark rage boils underneath the surface of my skin.

“Karolina is the woman?” Respect dissolves. A red haze filters my vision. David Morgan, that motherfucking piece of shit. “She is the mother of his child. What kind of monster wants to kill the mother of his child? I knew he was a pathetic excuse for a man incapable of maintaining a successful business, but this? I’m going to kill him. I’m going to rip him limb from limb.”

Springing to my feet, I prowl the length of my office. I feel like a tiger stalking through a cage.

“Get a hold of yourself. You are no help to Karolina with this much rage running through you. Contain it.” The stern words pause me. Hector’s right. The energy comes out of me in a whoosh. But I can’t sit. I remain on my feet, hands planted on my hips. “I brought this information to you because I plan on putting my full support behind the measures taken to extract Karolina from this unpleasantness.”