5. CHANGE OF HEART
CHLOE
“Mr. and Mrs. Windsor.” The security guard stood at the water’s edge, fluffy robes and towels in each hand. He kept his gaze averted, firmly fixed on the horizon. “The property’s cleared. I’ve been alerted there’s about to be a press conference.”
“Thank you.” Bryce climbed out, unabashed, as rivulets of water coursed down his muscular frame and over his tight boxer briefs. He took the items and then nodded. “You’re dismissed.”
Bryce waited until the other man was back inside the house, then held out a robe for me. “Put this on. We need to go watch the news.”
“Is this about your father?” I still hadn’t spoken a word to him, but it seemed cruel not to ask.
“Yes—I don’t want to miss it.”
I quickly joined him on the beach and toweled myself dry, grateful for the robe’s coverage.
Bryce’s gaze flicked down my body. “I had Midge pack a suitcase for you. Go get changed and meet me in the living room. I wouldn’t want you to sit around in that wet thong.”
Ah, so he had been looking. I raised my chin, struggling to appear nonchalant. “Fine.”
“Fine.” He motioned toward the house.
Damn him! He sounded much calmer than I felt.
I tightened the robe around me and hustled to the bedroom, grateful to be away from him for a moment.
I was a mess. Angry that he’d separated me from my brother, pissed that he’d threatened to have my mouth taped shut, afraid of what his father would do—all of that was mixed with a deep, undeniable longing.
I craved him. Being around my husband made me realize how much I’d missed him.
Having Bryce close but not touching him was torture.
In the midst of my anger, memories of how good we’d been together kept breaking through to the surface.
Being pissed at him was a blessing. It kept the other feelings underwater, where they belonged.
Inside our room, I refused to look at the bed.
That was where he’d taken me for the first time.
I remembered that night so clearly; it was painful.
I’d pledged to be his and only his, and he’d rewarded me by handcuffing me and penetrating me, making me lose my goddamned mind.
I’d come so hard I’d seen stars. And he’d been so tender with me afterward, cradling me to his chest, telling me I was his forever . Don’t, Chloe. Don’t think about it.
I numbly moved to the bureau; I needed to get dressed. The staff had already unpacked our suitcases. I found a ton of sexy underwear, all with matching bras, in one of the drawers. There was a folded note on top of them.
I don’t know why you left, but I sure miss you. Wear a thong while you’re down there, okay?
Give a girl some hope!
~ Midge
Tears pricked my eyes as I folded the note. Midge, my maid, had always been good to me. She’d probably been upset that I left without saying goodbye. I hadn’t known her for long, but she’d become like family.
I obediently put another thong on and then scoured the drawers for something comfortable.
Everything Midge had packed was insanely expensive and formfitting.
Not that I was surprised by that! I pulled on a cropped T-shirt and a pair of soft black leggings that probably cost more than a week’s stay at the Ellsworth motel.
I checked my reflection in the mirror. The outfit, though casual, did everything to show off my curves.
God bless you, Midge. Even though I’d vowed to keep my distance from Bryce, I still wanted to look good.
The bathroom had a brand-new toothbrush and an array of designer cosmetics.
I quickly brushed my teeth and hair, swiped on some mascara and lip gloss, and went out to the living room.
No matter what had happened between us, no matter that we could never be together again, I wanted to be beside Bryce to watch the news of his father’s arrest.
He was sitting on the couch in front of an enormous flatscreen television, bourbon in hand.
The breeze from the beach blew in, making the room comfortable and cool.
Bryce’s feet were up on the table in front of him; he’d changed into sweat shorts and a T-shirt, all the better to show off his muscled physique.
But despite the bourbon and the lack of a suit, he looked stressed.
A line furrowed in between his brows as he stared at the screen.
I sank down next to him as the news anchor addressed the camera.
“Earlier this afternoon, billionaire Gene Windsor was taken into custody.” An image of Bryce’s father, in handcuffs, being led from his gorgeous Maine estate filled the screen.
Gene looked dapper and somewhat defiant in his linen trousers and white dress shirt, what was left of his thinning hair flapping in the ocean breeze.
The federal agents led him to the dock and put him onto a boat.
“The founder and CEO of Windsor Enterprises is accused of insider trading involving a real-estate index fund that netted him close to a billion dollars,” the reporter continued. “If found guilty, the mogul could be fined up to twenty-five million dollars and receive a twenty-year jail sentence.”
The image cut to a family picture of Gene, his late wife, Bryce, and his brothers Colby and Jake.
“In his absence, Windsor Enterprises will be run by his three sons—Bryce, Colby, and Jake Windsor. His eldest son Bryce was named acting CEO this morning.” A video of Bryce walking, flanked by Regina Hernandez and some other board members, filled the screen.
“Despite a recent scandal involving his wife, Bryce Windsor is highly regarded and seen as a competent predecessor to his father.” There were pictures of Bryce and me eating dinner at the restaurant on Spruce Island.
Blessedly, they didn’t show any of me fighting Felicia Jones.
“Still, Windsor Enterprises’s stock declined four-percent today.
Investors report they are cautiously optimistic about the change in leadership but are waiting to see how the younger Windsor transitions.
A spokesperson for the family, Olivia Jensen, said that Bryce Windsor had taken the weekend to spend with his family before beginning work next week. ”
Bryce turned off the television, and we sat in silence for a few minutes. “Well, I guess it’s official.” He drained his glass.
“Are you okay?”
He shrugged his big shoulders. “We knew it was coming.”
“What happens next? Is the trial going to start soon?”
“I talked to his lawyers this morning—they expect it to start in a month,” Bryce answered. “They said he’s going to have to stay in prison, no bail because he’s a flight risk.”
“So he has to stay for a whole month before the trial even starts ?” I had no idea how any of this worked.
He nodded.
“I can’t picture your father in prison.” Gene Windsor had more money than God. I’d never seen him without his Gucci loafers on. He insisted his staff wear old-school tuxedos and maid’s uniforms. He
“You know how nasty my old man is—he’ll be all right in prison. Not sure how he’s going to adjust to a twin bed and the dining hall at first, but then again, he did commit a federal crime. So it’s a little late to feel sorry for him.”
“Do you?” I was genuinely curious. “Feel sorry for him?”
Bryce shrugged again.
“Listen… I’m sorry about what they said—about the ‘recent scandal.’ I’m so sorry.” I cringed like I did every time I saw or heard something about it on the news.
“Chloe.” He turned to me. “You’ve already apologized. I just want to know why you did it.”
I nervously twisted my fingers together. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
“Is that because you don’t want to answer? Or because you can’t?” His gaze was steady, searching.
“You’ve already heard what I have to say. I got drunk because I was feeling insecure, and then I got into a fight. It’s really not anything deeper than that. It’s as immature as it sounds,” I said miserably.
Gene Windsor had known precisely what he was doing.
The internet was forever, and so was my shame.
Chloe Shows Her True Colors. You could take the girl out of grimy East Boston, but perhaps you couldn’t take the griminess out of the girl.
I’d never live down that fight with Felicia; by proxy, neither would Bryce.
“It’s not that big of a deal.” Bryce shrugged.
I blinked at him. “You’re kidding, right? They just mentioned it on national news!”
“I’m not kidding.” He got up and poured another drink, then resumed his spot on the couch. “It’s not a big enough deal for you to walk out on me in the middle of the night and drag Noah with you. I want to know the truth. I want to know why you left.”
I longed to tell him, but his father’s words came back to me again. “You have a lot to lose. When I say that, I’m not just thinking of your marriage. I’m thinking of your brother.”
Bryce’s phone buzzed. He cursed as he glanced at it. “I have to take this. It’s the board.”
As he stalked outside, I headed into the kitchen for a glass of water.
My phone buzzed, too, and I considered throwing it in the ocean.
What would it be like, I mused, to be free from the outside world?
No one could threaten me, track me, and if they wrote headlines about me?
I would never see them—it would be bliss.
But I had my brother to think about, so I opened my messages.
There were more than I cared to count. Three from Akira, two from Olivia Jensen, and a couple from Dale. There was also one from a number I didn’t recognize.
I checked Dale’s first. Back on the island, all is well, he wrote.
The second text was a picture of Noah with Boss, his puppy. Together again.
Thank you, Dale, I texted back. Even though you set me up.
He didn’t respond, but the message became marked as “read,” so at least I knew he’d gotten it.
I stared at the picture of Noah and Boss.
My brother would be thrilled to be back on the island with the puppy, able to sleep in his own room and enjoy being spoiled by the staff.
Chef would probably bake him cookies and make all of his favorite meals.
Noah would officially never speak to me again when I came back from the Bahamas and made him leave.
Sighing, I opened the messages from Akira.
Jim Wright said you went to Exuma with Bryce, she wrote.
WTH?
I thought you were breaking the contract.
I didn’t answer her. If I told her that Bryce had stuffed me onto his private plane, threatened to tape my mouth shut, then dragged me to his private, guarded estate, she’d call the local police. The last thing Bryce needed right now was more bad press.
Olivia Jensen’s messages were next. The curvy, fiery redhead was Gene Windsor’s public relations person, and she was not my favorite. Please send pics from this weekend, she wrote. We need them for Bryce’s launch week. And I need to meet with you one-on-one when you guys get back.
Ugh, Olivia was apparently still working furiously to control the public image of the Windsor family. I hadn’t spoken with her since my meltdown at the wedding. She was probably very unhappy with me.
Will do, I texted back. Great, now Bryce and I needed to take selfies!
I opened the last text from the unknown number. It was probably junk, but I was a big believer in cleaning out my notifications. Dear Mrs. Windsor , it read. This firm represents Gene Windsor. Attached is a secure link to a private message.
My stomach sank. Gene Windsor had been arrested, but apparently, it didn’t matter: he would never leave me the hell alone. I looked outside. Bryce was stalking the pool deck, phone glued to his ear. I took a deep, shuddery breath and clicked the link.
Gene Windsor appeared on the screen, wearing the same white dress shirt he’d been arrested in.
It was a video; he was smiling his usual smug smile.
“Chloe, how nice of you to open this. I trust by now, the news of my arrest has been broadcast. I understand my son planned on bringing you to Exuma—he’s never been one to listen to common sense.
If this message was sent, it means you’re directly violating our agreement. ”
I gripped the edge of the counter. Oh my God, oh my god—
“Lucky for you,” Gene continued, “because of my impending incarceration, I’ve had a…change of heart, I suppose you’d call it. I can’t ignore the timing of all this. I didn’t know I’d be arrested and incarcerated as soon as today. But because that’s the case, I need something from you.”
I held my breath.
“These are your new instructions, and they are non-negotiable. I need you to go back home with Bryce. Stay there with him and pretend to be the perfect, loving wife. No more drunken scandals, no more fighting. But from this moment forward, you need to understand something: you work for me now.”
He smiled at the camera, and an icy chill needled my back.
“You will do what I say when I say it. If you want to keep your brother away from your drunken, low-life parents—and don’t bother asking them to back off, they’re already on my payroll—you will follow my instructions to the letter.
My firm will send you messages. Say nothing to Bryce, or you will be very sorry. Good day.”
The screen went blank, and so did my mind. I stared at the phone.
You work for me now.
If you want to keep your brother…you will do what I say.
I couldn’t believe that Gene had changed his mind so abruptly. Part of me was relieved that he’d instructed me to stay with Bryce, but I knew better than to trust that feeling. Gene Windsor was bad news. He hated me, and my brother was nothing more than a pawn to him, a way to control me.
I’d been in trouble before, but this was different. Noah and I had been away from the island, away from the family. If I’d thrown my stupid cell phone out, maybe they never would’ve been able to find me. Even if they’d brought a lawsuit, we could’ve hidden. We could be safe right now.
But we weren’t. We were a long way from safe.
Gene Windsor might be in jail, but he was sending me back into his territory—enemy territory.
And now the enemy was my master.