CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ZANDER
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You would look beautiful pregnant...
Jesus fucking Christ. I am never drinking tequila again. One more shot and the possibility of me dragging that woman—aka my client—to Vegas and marrying her was pretty high.
Too high.
I mean, I almost bought a sex club, so why not totally destroy my reputation and life.
No offense to Colt. I’ve enjoyed the benefits over the years, but a shotgun marriage and sex club is super off-brand for me.
I drag myself through the day, doing a workout in my home gym, soaking in the hot tub, watching a movie and then hitting the streets on the Ducati to get some fresh air.
An oxymoron, as I live in Manhattan.
I end up parked outside Drew’s apartment building as the sun goes down.
I don’t know why. I haven’t seen him in weeks, but for some reason I feel like he’s the person I can talk to about this.
After all, he and Gemma went on a rollercoaster ride together as business partners, so perhaps I think he’ll understand.
Ripping off my helmet, I stride into the building and come to a halt as Zoe, Gemma, and Drew stride toward me. They look to be on their way out to dinner.
“Hey Zander. I wasn’t expecting you.” Drew slows as they reach me, a slight frown on his face.
He’s worried. I’m not the guy who just rocks up at his place. All of us are close, and the unspoken bond after losing Jack means we will drop anything if we need one another.
“I should’ve called.” I tug my helmet under my arm and rub my unshaven jaw.
Gemma and Drew share a look while Zoe, Gemma's young daughter, races toward my legs and hugs me like I’m a tree.
“Zeeeander!”
“Hey squirt. Taught your robot any new tricks lately?” I run my hand over her hair and smile. She’s very cute and cheeky.
“No,” she pouts. “Mommy is scared of it.”
“I’m not scared,” Gemma frowns, then looks at me. “It knows too much. It’s creepy. I hope she grows out of this robot faze quickly.”
I chuckle, then it fades as I look back at Drew. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Go have fun.”
Drew shakes his head and slides a hand over Gemma’s back affectionately.
“Why don’t Zoe and I meet you at the restaurant in a little while?” she looks at my friend with eyes full of love. “We can have ice cream first.”
“Yes! Robot ice cream.” Zoe bounces and claps.
Drew laughs at his soon-to-be stepdaughter and kisses Gemma’s cheek. “Thanks, baby.”
“Robots do not eat ice-cream,” Gemma mumbles, then takes Zoe’s hand and shoots me with a smile before heading toward the entrance.
Drew nods to his security. “Go with them. I’ll join you in an hour.”
When we’re alone, he nods at the private elevator, and we go up. It’s silent until we reach his penthouse. When the door closes behind us, I follow him into the living room, dropping the helmet on the ground, and remove my black leather jacket.
I sit on the sofa while Drew pours us both a glass of Macallan. When he places it on the table in front of me, I ignore it.
My liver needs a break.
“Not going to lie, I’m seriously worried you’ve killed someone.” Drew sips the gold liquid as he takes a seat in an armchair.
I start laughing.
“So, I’m not changing my shoes and burying a body?”
“Not tonight,” I assure him.
“Good, because I’ve been craving Japanese all day, and that reservation was hard to get.”
“Bullshit. You gave your name, and someone else had their booking canceled.”
Drew smirks and takes another sip.
I sigh and glance around the room. His world looks different now with Gemma and Zoe in it. Fuller. Richer. I can’t deny that, despite how I feel about committing my life to someone who could rip my heart out and take half my wealth.
“You came here to talk. We have all night if you need, but I’ve never seen you like this. I’m curious, but more so concerned.” Drew tilts his head.
“No body. No murder,” I assure him. “But I forgot to use a condom last weekend and...”
“Jesus, Zander.” He lowers his glass. “No offense, buddy, but I thought this was something criminal, and you were going into hiding. Seriously, you look pale.”
I lift my ankle onto my knee.
“She’s my client.”
Drew blinks.
I wait.
“Bullshit.”
I shake my head.
“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair, then looks me dead in the eye. “Pay her. Lock this up in a contract so tight she won’t and can’t breathe near you. Jesus, you of all people know how to do that.”
He’s right.
I do.
And yet, I’m not and haven’t....
“What do you need? Cash? If you want to liquify fast, I can help,” he offers, and in a sadistic way, my heart warms.
Drew manages high-risk takeovers, and because of that, his net worth goes up and down constantly. More so than most billionaires, including me, he can get his hands on large amounts of cash. Quickly.
My gaze drifts to the lights of the city outside.
I have gone over this a thousand times. Courtney has reason to stay quiet about us being involved intimately, as she needs my firm to complete the divorce settlement.
Then what?
If she’s carrying my kid and wants to blackmail me, she holds all the cards.
Dammit, I shouldn’t have sent all those fucking messages.
“I need to know if she’s pregnant.” I lean forward, my elbows on my knees. “She won’t respond and didn’t take the pill.”
“Classic move.”
“Yeah.” I let out a dry laugh and run a hand through the front of my hair. Then stand and walk to the floor to ceiling windows, staring out at the night lights. “What if she is, Drew?”
“Knocked up?”
I nod without turning to face him.
“Then ask her to abort it. If that’s what you want.”
Lights from cabs and vehicles that look like tiny dots from this height move along the streets of Manhattan. I can barely make out people heading out to bars, clubs, restaurants, and shows.
Everyone living their lives; falling in love, breaking apart, making me rich because of it.
You’d look beautiful pregnant...
Why did I say that?
It’s true. Courtney would look beautiful in a trash bag, but never in all my life have I imagined a woman swollen with my child and thought what a beautiful sight it would be.
Until last night.
Sitting naked in my penthouse as I sent message after message, wishing she were there. Slowly stroking my cock, aroused by the image of her pregnant on her back with legs spread.
I can’t stop thinking about it.
Anyone else, that image would be a goddamn horror.
Drew joined me at the window, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“You like her?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“Of all of us, you’re the most cutthroat, Zander. I don’t believe for a second you’re confused about this,” Drew says.
I glare at him.
“Courtney Blackmore, right?”
“Yes.” I stride over to the glass of whisky, deciding my liver can deal with a little more. “She set me up.”
It’s a lie, but I can’t admit my feelings out loud. I want him to tell me to sort it out and be that cutthroat lawyer I am. To kick me up the ass and snap me out of this haze.
“Hole in the condom? That’s not what you said. You told me you forgot?”
I grind my teeth.
Having smart friends is a pain in the neck!
“I didn’t forget, I just didn’t want to. You’ve seen photos, she’s fucking gorgeous,” I confess. “I was also relying on her taking the Plan B pill the next day. As she had the first time.”
“So, this wasn’t a one-off.”
Crap.
“The point is..”
“The point is, you’ve fucked many beautiful women. This year alone.”
Fair point.
But I’m not one to let an argument go.
“Not like this. Not like her.”
“So, you do like her.”
“It’s lust.”
“Then lock it up. You know what to do,” Drew replies, giving me what I came here for.
Except I can’t. I’m not asking a woman to kill our child. And I’m not letting Courtney go if she’s carrying it.
Oh.
I let that sink all the way in.
My future plays out before me like a movie, and I’m not sure if the deep pit in my stomach is full of nerves or excitement. Both.
Holy hell.
Tossing back the whisky, I breathe out loudly.
“You’re right, brother. I do know what to do.” I press the glass into his chest and he takes it, then I grab my helmet and my jacket and walk to the elevator.
“Zander,” Drew calls out.
I turn.
“If you like her, if you are falling in love with her, don’t do anything stupid. Women will forgive some things, but not everything.”
I snort without humor.
Love. This isn’t love.
But it’s something, and I’m not waiting any longer. I need to know.
“This must stay between us,” I warn. “You know the consequences.”
He nods. “You have my word. You know that.”
I do.
That’s why I’m here.
It could’ve been any of the guys—Sebastian, Colt or Mason. Hell, even Dereck or Damon. I trust them all. But the fewer people who know, the safer it is for me. They’ll understand. I’m not the first lawyer in the United States to sleep with his client and won’t be the last.
That doesn’t mean it was right.
But I’m the shark, and in the public eye regularly. I’m also on track to become the nation’s top attorney.
I need to fix this.