Empire Part 3: A New Adult and College Billionaire Romance Series (Empire Billionaire Romance)
Authors: Bella Love-Wins
Empire Part Three
First edition. May 20, 2015.
Copyright © 2015 Bella Love-Wins.
Written by Bella Love-Wins.
~ They say with enough money, you can buy anything. But can money buy silence for the billionaire’s crimes of passion?
Join my Exclusive Reader list! You are just one click away.
Follow the link below and enter your email address to get notified of
free days
and new Bella Love-Wins titles once they are off the press.
>>>
Click here for FRESH Bella Love-Wins freebies and updates
<<<
Once again thank you, I hope you enjoy Empire!
Sincerely,
Bella Love-Wins
Website:
http://bellalovewins.com/
Jonathan
What we touch has a tendency to touch us right back. And that fact sucks.
The time at the precinct with Rocko is a chilling welcome to the real world. It’s a reminder none of us can live by our own rules—my dad in particular. And that sometimes, the people around us—in this case, Rocco—end up almost paying for our transgressions. I also learn Detective Robert Bateman is an asshole.
After we get Rocko out, thanks to Rebecca, Bateman walks up to me outside the precinct. The fucker catches me off guard. I have no idea why, but he comes up to me and decks me, right across the jaw. I ask him what the fuck his problem is. He tells me I’m trouble and he’s coming for me. That response tells me nothing, and I still don’t know what the guy’s problem is, but no one touches me and gets away with it. I’m so mad I return the favor with a punch to his gut.
Rocko pulls me off him when Bateman doubles over, and Rebecca stands between us, shouting for us to calm down. Rocko practically drags me to the limo and pushes me inside. I see Rebecca tell Bateman something, and then she comes to the limo and gets inside. I ask her what it’s about and she says she doesn’t know.
I drop Rebecca off at her house—she’s tight-lipped the entire ride over—and take Rocko to my dad’s condo. Dad wants to know what the fuck happened. Rocko gives him the rundown.
My dad is irate about how Matheson treated Rocko. Matheson is supposed to be one of his guys to help take care of things like this. Instead, he stands by and let some eager detective take Rocko through the ringer for no good reason.
Rocko smiles broadly after his talk with Dad. I ask him what’s got him smiling like it’s his birthday. Rocko pulls out a digital recorder from a pocket of his windbreaker coat. “They patted me down but the fuckers never touched my jacket. And I think we can bury Matheson and his goon of a partner with this.”
“What’s on it?” Dad asks.
“I turned it on before we got to the station. It has the whole time I was in their interview.”
“Let’s hear it. And then we have to set Matheson straight.”
“Here’s the part that you need to hear, Mr. Sloan. It’s Matheson tag-teaming with his goon partner, Miller.” Rocko advances the recorder to where the police begin to harass him. He sets the recorder on the table in front of Dad and presses play. We all listen.
Miller: You want to cooperate with us.
Rocko: What the hell do you want? I don’t know anything about any Rushton girl. Why haven’t you brought my lawyer in?
Matheson: Just tell us what you know. My coworker here is not threatening you. He’s just asking for your help.
Rocko: And I just said I don’t know anything.
Miller: We can make this easy, or we can make it harder for you.
Rocko: You have nothing on me.
Miller: We don’t want you. We want to know about Sloan.
Rocko: And I want my lawyer.
Miller: Was Doreen Rushton in Solomon Sloan’s condo last Saturday night?
Rocko: Lawyer.
Miller: Tell us. You think we don’t know about your son’s little racket in Brooklyn? We can make things difficult for Junior. Or you can cooperate and tell us what we want to know, and we’ll leave Junior out of it.
Rocko: Don’t you fucking bring my family into this.
Miller: It’s up to you how this goes down, Virocci.
Rocko: Lawyer. Get me my lawyer.
Miller: It’s pretty fucking simple, Virocci.
Rocko: I have nothing more to say.
Matheson: Alright. Miller, the man asked for his lawyer.
Miller: And I don’t think he understands how bad we can make it for him. When the evidence comes back and we find out it’s Sloan, it’ll be too late for Rocko here. Rocko, we have video surveillance that proves you were in the building when Doreen Rushton died.
Rocko: Where’s my lawyer?
Miller: We have camera footage of Solomon Sloan at a restaurant with Doreen three hours before she was found dead. Don’t wait until more evidence comes up, Virocci. Because by then, you’re an accessory, and we won’t be needing you for anything. By then, you can rot just like Sloan will.
Rocko: How many times do I have to ask for my lawyer for you to get him in here?
Miller: You’re withholding information. That’s no different from lying to the police. You’re obstructing justice, Virocci.
Rocko: And you’re violating my fucking rights.
Miller: If there’s any problem with the physical evidence, you may have a bigger problem. You see this? It’s a grand jury docket. Right now it’s blank, but if you don’t tell us what we need to know, by next week, we’ll have a grand jury hear your case in court. And when we’re in court, I’ll be asking for the court to grant an indictment for felony obstruction. That’s five to ten years, Virocci. Are you ready to go to prison for that long? What are you, forty, forty-five years old? Maybe you’ll get out in five to seven years.
Rocko: Lawyer.
Miller: You think Sloan can save your ass this time? We know he had his high-priced lawyers save you on those drug charges six years ago. He can’t save you this time. This time we’ll make sure you go away.
Rocko: I want my fucking lawyer now, you fucking prick!
Miller: What happened that night? Let me tell you what I think. Sloan’s partying. With Doreen Rushton. You’re somewhere nearby. They’re partying, she wants to leave, and he doesn’t let her. They struggle. He hurts her. He cuts her. Somehow, she gets away, but it’s too late for little Doreen. And you were there. Best case scenario, you’re an accessory. Worst case, you’re an accomplice. Or maybe you did it, Virocci. All I know is if you give us something now, we’ll make it easier for you to see your family one day. If you don’t, you’ll be lucky if you see your wife again when you’re seventy.
Rocko: I’d like to see my lawyer.
Miller: You think Sloan wouldn’t hesitate to pin it on you? You’re disposable. You’re nothing to him. You don’t fucking mean shit to Sloan. You’re…you’re collateral damage when the chips fall, Virocci. You and your loser son.
Rocko: Fuck you, asshole! I want my fucking lawyer now.
Miller: You didn’t kill little Doreen. But you’ll pay for it just as if you slit her wrists yourself. You know why? Because Sloan does not lose. He never does. But you will.
Matheson: That’s enough, man. His lawyer is here.
Rocko stops the recording. Dad is furious.
“You did good, Rocko. And I’ll make sure Miller pays. No one treats my people like that. Come on, let’s go.”
Dad rises from his seat and walks to the front door. He pulls his mobile phone from his pocket and seems to search for something.
“Where are we going?” I ask, following him and Rocko.
“To have a word with Matheson.”
“We should get this tape to Kara’s people. She can sue them or complain. Let’s take Miller down through legal channels.”
“No!” My dad’s voice booms as it echoes around the condo living room. “Miller needs to understand who he’s dealing with. Matheson does too.”
Jonathan
We leave the condo and the three of us take Dad’s limo to meet Matheson. We get to the location and see Matheson’s SUV parked about fifty feet down the alleyway. He sees our vehicle and joins us in the limo.
“Hey,” he says.
“Let’s go,” my dad tells our driver.
Matheson looks over at me. He notices my swollen, bruised jaw. “That’s gonna hurt in the morning. How’d you get so banged up when I just saw you like a couple hours ago?”
“Bateman,” I answer. “And if he tries it again, I’ll be ready for him.”
My dad has no patience for where this conversation is going. He lifts his hand to shut us up, and turns to Matheson. “Are you going to tell me what the hell happened with Rocko?”
“It’s better if you don’t ask, Solomon.”
“No one, not even Miller, gets away with what he pulled tonight. You understand?”
“I do. You have to understand the D.A., the Mayor, and even the Governor of New York are all breathing down our necks to find out who’s responsible for killing Rushton’s niece.”
“That’s no excuse. Why did you stand there and let Miller threaten his kid?”
“Miller was just a little eager.”
“Fuck that. What about the Grand Jury? Was he being eager about that too? Because I want to be clear with you, Matheson. We have our arrangements. It does not include harassment of my key men. If it happens again, there’ll be hell to pay. I know everyone want to take a piece out of me, but this has to stop.”
“Sloan. We warned you about this time and time again. You can’t keep doing this and think we can turn a blind eye every time. This time you went too far, and none of us can protect you. Not even the Deputy Commissioner.”
“So what the hell do I pay you for?” my dad asks, combing a frustrated hand through his hair. “Look, when I talk to Deputy Morris about what you’re saying, he’d better have a different answer.”
“I don’t think you should mention I met you. I think your answer is we didn’t meet tonight.”
“Oh, really? Then how did I find out about all this?”
“You didn’t. Or maybe Rocko here told you. Right now I’m not in his good graces.”
“What the hell kind of trouble are you in, Matheson?”
“I wasn’t here tonight. And if anyone checks, that will be my answer,” Matheson says.”
“Why will anyone look into this?”
“They won’t, especially if you don’t mention we met tonight.”
“Jesus, Matheson.” My dad turns to the limo driver. “Stop the car.”
Rocko is mad as hell. “Boss, this guy stood there and let me take it up the ass. That’s all we’re gonna do?”
“For now, yes. Don’t worry, Rocko. I’ll fix this. Matheson here is at the bottom of the dung heap. He’s just following orders. We’ll get this sorted out at the top.” He turns to Matheson when the limo comes to a stop. “Get out.”
He gets out and realizes we’re nowhere near his SUV. “You’re letting me off here? We’re a mile from my car.”
“Yeah well, life a bitch. Take the time to walk it off and think about things.”
Rocko seems pleased, but only a little. “That guy fucking stabbed me in the back, Boss. He stood there and didn’t say a word. He might as well have stuck a dagger in my eye. Fucking bastard.”
“We’ll take care of this, Rocko. For tonight, go home. Get some sleep. We’ll figure it all out.”
In my opinion, tonight has not gone well. We have this recording. I decide in the back of my mind I’m pulling Kara in, despite my dad’s wishes to handle it in-house. After we take Rocko home, Dad drops me off at my place. He tells me he’ll talk to me in the morning. I tell him I’m going to the villa in the Bahamas for a few days. He says to keep my phone on in case he needs me.
I’m anxious and exhausted when I get up to my place. It’s after ten at night. And I didn’t get a second to ask Dad about what’s going on between him and Mandy. If I had just ignored that phone call at the airport, by this time tonight I would’ve been on the ground in Bahamas, sipping cocktails and holding Rebecca.
No matter what, I’m taking that trip tomorrow. From the recording Rocko played, and from Dad’s chat with Matheson, things are heating up fast. Someone in the NYPD wants to hang my Dad out to dry, and that means they’ll be coming for me soon. If and when they do, I have no doubt they’re coming for blood. Someone has to pay, and I’m the one with the billboard around my neck.
***
It’s almost midnight, and I still can’t sleep. On top of having all of Dad’s stuff on my mind, I’m craving Rebecca. She and my position at Fairchild’s are the only good things going on in my life right now. I don’t even text her. I get dressed and head over to her place. I buzz her from downstairs and she answers. She tells me to come up.
I get upstairs and she’s waiting for me at her front door, dressed in a sexy black negligee. I don’t say a word. I cup her face and press a desperate kiss on her lips.
