Chapter 58 Ethan
ETHAN
Iknew that would be his answer. I knew that if I just asked Dane he would bring his accounts to my father without any questions asked.
But I’m still speechless.
Not that I’m asking him. I would never allow him to give my father access to his money, but the confirmation that he would do it for me is all the assurance I need that I’m making the right decision.
I’ve worked endless hours every day since the meeting with my father.
I’ve been waiting until I know they’re sleeping before finally returning home.
Then setting my alarm early, leaving for the office before they wake up.
I told them I’m taking advantage of the time since we don’t have classes until next week.
I’m partially avoiding them so I don’t rope them into the mess I’m in, but really I’ve spent all my time digging deep into Russo and Company, finding everything my father doesn’t want me to know.
And what I’ve found is enough to turn the tables of blackmail right back on him.
I’ve printed a stack of documents, proof of the money he’s skimming from his clients accounts and the past five years of tax returns that don’t match his altered bank account statements and 1099 forms.
I’ve managed to locate locked files in our shared folders and found so much incriminating evidence of money laundering and tax evasion, it physically makes me sick.
Sure, I owe him money for Hannah’s surgeries and I’ll pay him back every penny. But, I’d rather do it with dignity. At this point, the hardest part will be telling Hannah I lied to her about her medical expenses and took them on without her knowing about it.
She’ll be pissed that I didn’t tell her. She’ll be even more pissed that I indebted myself to him because she’s always disliked him.
I second guess myself for a moment, knowing I’ll be coming clean to her with a mountain of debt, no steps for my next plan, and unemployed.
The anxiety of the unknown laces through me and it’s completely overwhelming. But, it’s better than building my life around his terms.
I finish typing out my resignation letter and click ‘Save’, the company secured documents folder pops open and as I move my mouse over to the confirmation box, one of the subfolder titles catches my eye.
Ridgeway.
“Ridgeway…Ridgeway,” I hum as I repeat the word out loud because it looks familiar. Clicking the folder open. It prompts for a password and I use the one my dad always uses: Ca$hM0ney! A list of PDF icons appear, all named Parker—Hannah’s last name—with a date in ascending order.
I hold CTRL-A and tap enter, opening all the documents at once, the most recent one stacked and visible on top.
It’s a letter from the insurance company. Ridgeway was the insurance company that my father said denied the claims for Hannah’s care.
I skim through the document dated four years earlier, a few months after her last surgery.
The words submission, claim, and granted blind me like the light from a thousand suns.
“Holy shit.” I tap through the other documents, skimming over all of them.
He lied about it all. He may have had to pay for her care initially, but the insurance company covered everything.
All he ever showed me was bank statements showing all the debits from when he paid out the hospital bills and doctors offices.
I never assumed it was covered because that’s exactly what he told me.
And I fucking believed him. I scold myself wondering why I never thought to question him.
My father left for lunch a short while ago so I know I have at least thirty minutes before he returns.
I quickly click back into my email, type in my father’s address, and before I can overthink anything, I hit send. Attaching my resignation letter along with zip drive folders with proof of all the illegal shit he’s been doing.
I have no intention of using them against him, not right now at least. I just need to leave without a fight from him or any other repercussions.
Selecting all the documents, I print them all so I have copies for myself, then remove them from the base of the printer and tuck them in a folder inside my backpack.
Knock. Knock.
“Shit.” I zip up my backpack and pop up from behind my desk.
“Come in,” my voice is raspy as I call out. Because it could only be two people, my father—I really should have checked if he was still gone before sending that email—or Sarah, our receptionist.
Thankfully, Sarah pops her head through the opening of the door, announcing herself as she walks through it.
“Mr. Russo, Dane Campbell is here to see you. He insists you had an appointment but I don’t see anything on the calendar.”
I’m stunned because we didn’t have an appointment. I know he’s probably confused and curious about my last text message but I didn’t expect him to show up here. My heart flutters at the idea that he cares enough to be here.
“No worries, send him in.”
Sarah hardly has one foot out the door when I hear his voice; he must have been waiting just outside the door.
“Thank you, Sarah,” Dane says, the velvet sound of his charming, professional voice runs through me like lava.
Standing, I walk around my desk and lean on the front of it, crossing my arms over my chest.
He shuts the door, and stares at the lock on the handle for a moment before turning around and making his way toward me.
“We didn’t have an appointment,” I say flatly.
“I know.”
“So, what are you doing here?” I smother the smirk that wants to make an appearance because he looks adorable as he glances around my office. It’s the first time he’s been here and it’s like he’s taking in all the little details.
“I missed you.”
That forces a chuckle out of me. His tone is factual. Certain. He just doesn’t care if you don’t like what he says or how he says it, he’s going to say it anyway. I love that about him. I love a lot of things about him.
“We both miss you a lot, actually. I just came here to tell you that,” he adds.
I’ve seen Hannah blush over his words, more times that I can count. I’ve never been good with praise or compliments, but Dane’s honesty has always flooded me with a warmth I’ve never understood.
Even from behind that damn glory hole wall, he went out of his way to make me feel comfortable. He’s been doing that since the moment we met.
“So, did you make a bad investment?” he asks.
Pressing my lips into a flat line, I shake my head.
“Secretary run off with one of your employees and a large sum of money from a client's account?”
I smirk and shake my head no.
“Did your father discover something and he’s holding it over your head unless I agree to work with him?”
My eyes snap to his and I freeze.
He doesn’t have to say anything, he just nods. A slow, accepting up and down gesture with his neck as if he’s dissecting my silent response.
“You got that all from one text?”
He shrugs.
“I am a genius, you know.”
Smug bastard.
“He wouldn’t be my first choice, but like I said, if you needed me to, I would.”
Key word, needed, not wanted.
“Do you need me to?” he asks as he steps into my space, standing only an inch or two away.
His usual bright blue eyes are shadowed by concern. He knows something has been going on, but has respected me enough not to pry. Unlike his normal behavior of pushing on everything.
It’s practically a silent declaration of love for Dane.
“I would never let you.” I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull him into me, crashing my lips against his because I’ve avoided them for the past few days and I hate myself for it.
“Mmmm.” A moan gets caught in his throat.
“Did Hannah tell you to come?” I ask, between kisses.
He nods. “Sort of. I was going to come on New Year's Day but she told me to give you space. She said three days. We compromised on two. Then I got your weird ass text and came right after.”
I can’t help but chuckle knowing they were negotiating the approach. I love how well they know me.
“I told her I would bring you home. She still owes us for New Years Eve, you know? She’s probably naked on the bed waiting for us.”
“She has a lot of faith in your negotiating skills.”
“She should.” This time he kisses me, palming my erection behind my black dress pants and I can’t help but groan into this mouth.
He grips onto the front of my shirt, pulling me even closer. “Stop pushing us away.”
“I know, but I already figured it out.”
“Of course you did, you stubborn brute.” He kisses me again. “What’s the plan and do I need my attorney or my shovel?”
I laugh, a deep, hearty laugh as I throw my head back. “You don’t own a fucking shovel.”
“No, but I’ll buy a gold plated one for the occasion if you want.”
“I just quit.” I spit out the words and it feels fucking liberating. His body stills, mid-kiss. “I have no idea what I’m going to do but I can’t work for him anymore and now I have no reason to continue.”
He pulls back, taking me in. His eyes bounce between mine then a slow, sexy smile spreads across his face.
“Need me to be your sugar daddy? Because that’s my kind of investment.”
“Oh, shut up.” I roll my eyes and lean in to kiss him again.
“Fine, but will you tell me the reason why you had to work for him?”
He finishes just as my office door flies open, banging against the back wall.
“What the fuck is going on?” My fathers voice tears through us as we pull apart, both our necks whiplashing toward the door.