Temptation to Submit (10 page)

“I’ll look into it, Yarina.”

“You do that,” Yarina snapped. “Meanwhile, tell your boss to recall your Italian mafia.”

Tori pulled out the spreadsheets and studied them again. Who had handled all the requests that came from Yarina? And who would Victor Tourine want to protect more than his daughter?

It made no sense. Why would Victor throw Yarina to the wolves? Well, they hadn’t agreed on the expenditures. Rumor had it that Yarina had bitterly opposed the takeover and thought her father had taken a dive.

Evidence showed that Victor had indeed “taken a dive” to trap Mark into buying stock in the company, which brought him to L.A. Victor’s plan to get revenge on Mark’s family had been foiled, but why would he destroy his only daughter?

Money might be a good motivator. Who would be willing to steal for Victor? And who had the ability?

Tori was convinced that one of the ten managers had the skills. They all had accounting expertise, a requirement for employment at that level. Not Reena. She had done everything she could to make the merger go smoothly and benefited from the change of management. Not Nell or Gina, who both had the capability but also were 100 percent on board with the ConFed changes.

There were only three who had protested loudly about the merger: Sabrina Elles, Jeff Poole, and Jerry Arnold. The first two were gone, taking severance checks with them.

Jerry was still there, awaiting a transfer to San Francisco and gleefully anticipating the downfall of ConFed’s operation.

Tori picked up the phone and called Finch’s cell. To his credit, he had always answered when she called. She tried to ignore the warm feeling of security that gave her.

“Victoria.”

“Finch, I think I know who took the money.” She rechecked the spreadsheets and the copies of the invoices.

“I’ll be there in five.”

By the time Finch walked into the office, Tori had found it. No one suspected Jerry, so they hadn’t looked. But Jerry presented a smiling face to everyone else. Only Tori had heard his vicious comments about the company failing.

Tori found the authorizations for the invoices. It had all been there in front of their faces. Jerry had signed off on every single authorization, burying it in a pile of paperwork so that it took an extensive search to find it unless it was looked for. Tori had gone looking.

She glanced up and was caught for a moment by how Finch was an intimidating mix of power and control. Her stomach flipped, and she realized that she’d started to care for him. Shit. How did it happen? She wanted to know everything about him.

That brought her back to reality in a heartbeat. He’d want to know about her, and she couldn’t reveal that she hid this huge thing from everyone. He wouldn’t understand.

“What is it?” he asked sharply. His gaze was filled with concern.

“I—” How could she say it?
I care about you. I want to be your submissive and only your submissive
. But the words wouldn’t come. She swallowed. “It was Jerry Arnold.”

“Show me.” His penetrating stare focused on the screen, and Tori could breathe.

“Jerry has been taking money from the pension restoration fund for months. The invoices from Yarina’s department were to cover up how he moved the money.” Tori kept her attention on the numbers on the screen. “He was the one who used Yarina’s authorization and made sure everything pointed toward her.” She shook her head. “It’s clever, but he couldn’t have done it without my boss’s help and Victor’s cooperation.”

Finch’s cell phone rang, and he cursed. “I have to get this.”

He strode into the hallway, toward one of the conference rooms, and Tori watched him, her heart racing. How had this happened? She wanted to dismiss it, blame it on the emotional roller coaster that her mother’s impending death had caused in her life. But she realized that throughout it all, he’d never pushed or questioned her. Little things he’d said indicated he knew she suffered from some crazy shit, but he didn’t pry.

And she didn’t think it was because he didn’t care. Those times, after he’d delivered punishment that seemed to heal her soul, he would hold her. It was that contrast of gentleness and discipline that drew her to him.

She sat at her desk, frozen, stunned. She’d fallen in love with her boss. Could she be any more cliché?

Jerry Arnold appeared at the door of her office. “Your boss in?”

Tori snapped out of her self-induced shock and studied the man who’d most likely tried to steal from the company. “He’s on the phone. Would you like me to take a message?”

As she spoke, Jerry strode into her office as if he owned the damn place. He’d always been like that. When Tori had first met him, she’d been slightly attracted to what she thought was his confidence. Now she realized that what she wanted was a Dominant, someone who took over, but with absolute consent.

Like Sunsoon, she’d been flailing, going down in flames. And like her old company, she’d been taken over and given a chance to survive. Finch had schooled her, helped her.

Jerry stared at her computer screen that still had the damning evidence of his lies on it. “I always knew you were trouble.”

He towered over her, and she started to slide her office chair away from him, but he pinned her arms.

She glared at him. “Get your hands off me, Jerry.”

Instead, Jerry gripped her upper left arm, yanked her to her feet, and then trapped her arms behind her back. “All those years, you froze me out, and then he comes along, and you open those legs for him.” His gaze swept over her from head to toe, making her want to cover up with a damn blanket. “He wanted you from the moment he laid eyes on you. How did you convince him that you didn’t take the money? Did you suck his dick, Victoria?”

She struggled to get away, but he was stronger than she’d thought. She managed to get one hand free and swung wildly toward his head.

“Bitch!” he said and knocked her onto the surface of her desk.

She batted at his hands that held her down. When his fingers wrapped around her throat, she gasped for breath. She couldn’t scream and berated herself for not shouting earlier.

Suddenly, Jerry was jerked back, and she was free. As she rose from the desk, she was riveted by the sight of Finch, who ducked a punch as Jerry attacked.

There was always something powerful and arousing about Finch. But now? He resembled a vengeful hero in some fairy tale. His dark eyes flashed, and his fists flew. His muscular shoulders flexed as he nailed Jerry in the jaw and knocked the man across the room.

It was brutal and primitive. Finch grabbed Jerry’s shirtfront and lifted him from the floor. “You don’t touch her. She belongs to me.”

It was the final piece of the puzzle for Tori. She loved Finch. She’d fallen for him a long time before, but with those four words, he clarified what was in her heart. The joy of that discovery was instantly followed by terror. What would he do when he found out she was a liar? That she’d hidden this thing about her mother from him?

“I knew you were fucking her,” Jerry snarled at Finch.

The expression on Finch’s face scared the shit out of her. She moved quickly and touched his arm. “I’ll call the police.”

Finch’s hand clenched tighter on Jerry’s shirt, and for a moment, Tori thought she’d be handing the cops a body. But Finch dropped Jerry as if he was a piece of garbage. “Maybe you fuck women, Jerry. But I don’t. Victoria has more class and courage in her little finger than you do in your whole body.” His lip curled as he studied the man on the floor. “Touching her was a mistake you’re going to regret.”

Tori dialed 911. As she spoke to the operator, Jerry looked from her to Finch.

“This isn’t over,” he said in a low, vicious tone.

“For you it is,” Finch snapped.

Jerry turned and fled her office.

ATTICUS WATCHED JERRY Arnold flee down the hall. The bastard had touched her. He’d had his hand around her throat. The only reason Atticus hadn’t killed the little prick was because Victoria had grabbed his arm, reminding him that he was in a civilized world that frowned on tearing a man limb from limb.

He turned and stared at her. She wasn’t looking at him but was focused on providing information. Until he’d opened the door of his office and discovered that bastard’s hands on her, he hadn’t realized he considered Victoria his.

When he’d said she belonged to him, he meant it. As fast as lightning, it had struck him, electrified him. She was his. But he wasn’t sure of her feelings. The weeks they’d spent working together had meant more to him than he could have believed.

He didn’t know when it happened or how, but he wanted to take her home to his family, introduce her to his parents and his two siblings. Atticus’s family was close; his sister lived within three miles of the home where they grew up. His brother worked in the family business. Only Atticus had struck out, wanting to put his skills with numbers and his need to dominate to use on a bigger stage than his parents’ grocery store chain allowed.

What would Victoria think of his rather traditional parents who still spoke Hindi at home? His sister would adore Victoria. Atticus smiled at the possibility of Sasha and Victoria in the same room. That much stubborn independence was sure to be entertaining.

“You don’t have to look so damn pleased with yourself,” Victoria said, but there was a twinkle in her eye.

She had crossed her arms, drawing his attention to her tempting breasts.

He strode closer to her and gripped her elbows. “Did he hurt you?”

He held her gaze, noting every detail of her green eyes and the dark circles beneath them. When he tightened his fingers on her flesh, she shuddered. He wanted to kiss her, to obliterate the memory of any other touch.

“I’m fine,” she said and stepped closer to him. “I should have called out sooner, but he didn’t scare me until his hand was around my throat.”

Atticus placed his hand at her neck and gently wrapped his fingers around the slender column. That asshole could have killed her. The thought caused his whole body to freeze in terror. “I should punish you for scaring the shit out of me,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t know that I could spank you enough for the scare you gave me.”

“Finch—”

Her cell phone blared. Victoria jerked away and fumbled with her phone. Atticus saw the color drain from her face, and he knew the chance had passed, her secret still between them like a barrier of rock.

“I THINK YOU’D better come home,” the hospice nurse, Nancy, told her. “She’s going fast.”

This was it. Tori stared at Finch. Oh, how she wished she could fall into the spell he’d woven for her. But the phone ringing was a warning to her. She couldn’t have him. Regardless of his words, she couldn’t belong to him. If he knew how she’d lied all these years, he wouldn’t want her anyway.

“I have to go,” she said, her throat tight. “It’s…an emergency.”

Finch’s pinched expression tore at her heart. He thought she didn’t trust him. But as long as her mother lived, she couldn’t speak. It wasn’t just her secret.

When Finch only nodded and started to turn away, she reached out. She wanted to drop to her knees and tell him everything. Instead, she put her hand back to her side and picked up her purse. The silence was painful, but Tori told herself it was for the best. Finch was a man who didn’t tolerate lies or deceptions. She’d been deceiving everyone for a long time. He could never forgive that.

Tori avoided everyone and escaped the office. Her mother’s health had deteriorated, and Betty no longer had the strength to try to escape. The doctor had prescribed a pretty heavy dose of morphine that helped.

As Nancy fixed herself some dinner and took a break from the vigilant watch over Betty, Tori stared at her mother’s face. The cancer had made her eyes sink and made her look like a skeleton. Her skin was like paper, thin and almost transparent. Her breathing was shallow, and Tori found herself breathing with her.

Betty opened her eyes. “Tori,” she whispered.

“I’m here, Mom.” Tori took her hand.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Betty’s voice was weak. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mom. It really is.” And all of sudden, it was. All those years of resentment and anger were still there, but she knew her mother had been sick, not malicious. Betty hadn’t meant to be a drug addict. Nobody meant to be one. And she sure as hell hadn’t meant to get cancer.

That night, her mother slipped away.

Tori was numb. For almost an hour, she sat beside her dead mother and couldn’t move. Finally, Nancy put an arm around her.

“Come with me, darling.”

Tori couldn’t do anything. Thank God she’d arranged everything beforehand. Nancy took care of the phone calls. The following eight hours were a blur. She called the office and left a message, unable to deal with Finch directly.

She called Nell and told her she’d be taking two weeks off and deflected questions. Nell, of course, thought Tori was running from Finch. Gina called twice but, being Gina, didn’t press for answers.

Three days after her mother died, all the immediate business was taken care of, and everyone was gone. Tori faced the day alone, realizing that she had no desire to call her aunt to share her grief and that she felt completely isolated from the world.

After everything that had happened, she wanted to curl up on her bed and never get up. She forced herself to shower and grabbed her purse as she headed out to the store. After all, she had to eat something. The last three days had been difficult, and she hadn’t eaten much.

Tori winced at the bright light from the sun and fumbled with her keys. She couldn’t feel anything, not even anger. Why would her mother’s death stymie her this way? In Tori’s life, she’d been dead for years. It made no sense that now, the reality of Betty’s death would be harder to accept than the lie she’d lived. Even now, she wanted to deny it, to tell herself that Betty wasn’t really dead; it was just another story that Tori had to tell.

She started to open her car door, and seemingly out of nowhere, someone slammed it shut. When she started to turn, her eyes were covered with a blindfold.

“Don’t make a sound.” Finch. It was Finch.