Chapter twenty-two
Chase, Chase and Waite Law Offices, Canary Wharf
Harrison
“Where the fuck were you?” I roar, storming into Russell’s office.
“She’s gone. That bastard has her on a plane to Chicago as we speak.”
He raises an eyebrow and leans back in his chair.
The smug look on his face needs to be removed, fast.
My nerves are shot, anger bursting from every cell.
As I laid there on the damp ground, secured like a pig waiting for slaughter, I promised myself that if I got out alive, the Chase family was not going to run my life from now on.
It was time to put myself and my wishes first.
“She chose to go,” he says simply. “She chose him. Typical Violet, running off when it suits her. If you ask me, we’re better off without her.”
“Fucking lies,” I growl. “Did your daddy tell you that? Has he managed to convince you yet again that he’s not the bad guy in the situation? That someone else made the decision.” He scowls, straightening himself in his seat. “And you’re a dumb enough fuck to believe him.”
“Watch your mouth,” he snaps. “Remember who you’re speaking to.”
I walk forward to his desk, placing my hands on the highly polished glass; it will leave finger marks and that will piss him off. Russell’s office is cleaned twice a day—it’s always pristine.
“And who am I speaking to?” I ask, glaring at him. “Russell Chase, the man or Russell Chase, his dad’s bitch?” He shoots out of his chair and reaches across the desk, grabbing at my shirt collar. He pulls me toward him so we are nose to nose.
“Don’t push me,” he warns, tightening his grip.
“What are you going to do, Russ? Kill me? Dispose of me? Or merely beat me up? You don’t frighten me, you’re nothing but a fucking bully.”
He snarls like a dog as I mock him. “But you can’t get rid of me, can you? I’m worth too much in here. Clients would walk if I did, and you know it. I own a third of this firm, and I’ll take it if I need to. Let go of me before I make your life more difficult.”
He chuckles then releases my collar. “And how would you make my life more difficult? You’re the lap dog, not me. My father’s charity case. You only have what you do because of my family. Nothing more than the boy from the ditch.”
“I’d tell your father about your little sideline,” I tell him, ignoring his jibes, and his eyes pop open. “I’m not sure he would be pleased to know his son is sleeping with the enemy.”
“You know nothing,” he spits, striding over to a glass fridge filled with beer in the corner. He pulls the door open, removes a can and drains it, then takes two more from the fridge.
“I know you’ve been selling information on your father’s businesses to his competitors. That’s how he’s been losing out on his recent property bids. The bids you’ve been making for him.”
“Bullshit.” He looks at me warily though, which tells me I’m right.
The accusation was a stab in the dark, but someone had to be giving Edward Chase’s competitors the information on what his offers were on property around London.
He’s lost four in a row—it’s a situation he’s not used to.
With every loss, his anger increases a notch.
“I’ve been buying it myself,” Russell concedes.
That admission I wasn’t expecting. I try to stop my jaw from dropping.
“Why?” I ask, genuinely perplexed. “Why would you risk that? Him finding out could be deadly for you.”
“Because I wanted to teach him he can’t win every bloody competition. That he is not the most powerful man in the world. That he can be beaten,” he says with a sigh, then throws himself back into his chair. I sit down opposite him. The confrontational atmosphere disappears instantly.
“I can understand that,” I say honestly. “It’s hard when you feel like your life isn’t your own.” He tosses me one of the beer cans he’s holding. I catch it and snap it open; it fizzes over my fingers. “You’re playing with fire, Russ. If he finds out, I hate to think what he would do to you.”
“He’d kill me. I’d be seen as a traitor to the family. Pocketing individually what should be part of the family fortune.” He sniggers. “The fortune he controls.”
“Violet is being taken against her will,” I say, attempting to get the conversation back on track now that he’s subdued. “When I got to the plane, Marley had her pinned to the bed.” He smirks. “She wasn’t happy about it. I shot him in the shoulder.”
“You shot him?” Once again, his eyes widen in shock.
“He won’t die from it; I think it went through the muscle. But he threatened to kill me if she didn’t go with him,” I continue.
“Then his men tied the four of us up and left us on the ground to be found later.”
He listens intently as I go back through the events of earlier, when I lost Violet yet again.
“I phoned my father this morning. He told me she went of her own accord. She’s been with Marley for years,” he says.
“Under false pretenses. It’s not him she’s in love with,” I argue, keeping my gaze fixed on him. I need to own this, own the truth of it all.
“And in your opinion, who does she love?” he asks sharply.
“Me. She loves me.” I pause to let the words sink in. “And I love her.”
“How is that even possible?” he replies, rolling his eyes.
“You slept with her once and haven’t seen her in years. It’s a ridiculous notion. You need to get it out of your head. One time with a woman doesn’t make you love her. Go and buy yourself some pussy. Get over Violet and let her crawl back under her Chicago rock.”
“The time in my apartment wasn’t the first time we’ve been together,” I admit.
He narrows his eyes. “When?”
“The final summer before she left for Glasgow. Just after she turned eighteen. I’ve been crazy about her ever since.”
He goes to open his mouth, but I raise my hand to silence him.
“Let me speak. Listen to what I have to say before you explode.”
He bristles but holds his tongue. “That summer, it only happened once, but it was special. I’d been resisting her for months, stealing glances when I thought no one was looking.”
“We all knew you were fucking looking,” he mutters. “How many times were you advised to keep your distance?”
“I tried, Russ, but…” I trail off, not knowing how to explain what I feel.
“How can you be sure?” he questions. “You don’t know each other. You’ve barely been together.”
“She’s the only woman who has ever made me feel this way.”
He shakes his head as a smile plays on his lips. He doesn’t believe me. Russell doesn’t believe in love.
“What I do know is, she isn’t with Aiden Marley through choice. And even if she doesn’t want to be with me, she definitely doesn’t want to be with him,” I state firmly.
“Help me bring her home. Then if she decides she doesn’t want me, I’ll walk away. I’ll sign over my part of the firm to you and Connor, hand over my clients, and go.”
His eyes search my face, looking for a catch.
There isn’t one. I’d give up everything I have to make sure Violet Chase was safe, she and her child.
But I pray she wants me if I offer myself to her, if I get the opportunity to.
“What do you say? I know our relationship has disintegrated in recent years. You don’t see me as the brother I see you as.”
He visibly swallows. “Help me save your sister. We both love her.”
“I’m not sure my sister needs saving,” he says. “She made her bed; let her lie in it.”
“She is lying in it,” Connor announces as he walks into the office, catching the end of our conversation.
“Literally. She’s in her old room at the mansion. I’ve spoken to Mother.”
We both gawk at him. “Seemingly, the bullet you put into Marley did a little more damage than you thought. They had to divert the plane before he bled out.”
He laughs loudly. “Shame really, it would have been a good way to get rid of him.”
“Where is he now?” Russell asks.
“He is also at the mansion, being cared for by Father’s private nursing staff.”
Connor looks between us. “Mother says Violet has locked herself in her room again and is refusing to come out. I asked her what the situation was with Marley. She told me she doesn’t want to move back to Chicago.”
He focuses on his brother. “Father has agreed that Aiden can keep Violet in return for his continued service.”
“Service?” Russell spits, clearly confused. “What kind of service?”
“Business I assume. I don’t know the details and neither does Mother. But she’s worried about Violet, and she wants us to help get her out.”
He takes a breath. “Russ, our sister needs us. For once, we need to stand up to our father and do what we think is right.”
Russell nods but doesn’t speak, the blood draining from his face at the thought of challenging his father.
Connor turns to me. “If you love my sister the way you say you do, I’ll support you being with her.”
“I love her entirely,” I tell him decisively. “I want her to live the life she wants, whether that includes me or not.” He doesn’t acknowledge my words, just looks me up and down. Quiet, reserved, and deep, that’s Connor Chase.
“Violet has an ultrasound at the private maternity clinic in the city on Friday,” Connor continues. “Mother is taking her. There will be a few guards, but they won’t be allowed into the hospital.”
“Friday? That’s three days away. What if he touches her before then? He was practically forcing himself on her when I found them on the plane,” I say. My anger bubbles under the surface. I want to go and get her now.
“He’s in no fit state to do anything at the moment,” he replies with a smirk. “Drugged up to the eyeballs while he heals, apparently. Mother will keep him away for a few days under the pretense of looking after Violet and the baby. She has a plan; we need to trust her.”
“Trust your mother? Does she not follow your father’s instructions without question?”
“Normally, yes. But this is her daughter. She wants what’s best for her, and for some obscure reason she seems to think that’s you.”
He widens his eyes. “Take the offer of help. You don’t have to fix this on your own.”
He grabs my shoulder. “We will get her out of there, and then she can reject you herself.”
“I’m assuming you have a plan?” Russell interjects.
“Of course,” Connor replies, “but we can discuss it tonight in The Level.”