Mr. Hawley
Mr. Hawley
She was standing in the lobby of the Hawley Telecom building, holding Cruz’s hand feeling like the most powerful b***h on the planet. Truth be told, she might even be her, and the thought sent a shiver of
excitement down her spine.
Their meeting with Belkin had been long but in the end, he’d told her the four other families, his included,
would manage all the illegal activities for her as proxies or she could sell those businesses to them outright and they would split it. She’d decided on the latter because peddling drugs was not anything she wanted part of. Then when she’d had a mini panic attack over suddenly being responsible for several large companies, she was reassured all of the companies had CEO’s at the helm. She was the president of them all and everyone would report to her, but each company was very effectively managed. Cruz and Belkin both promised to guide her through the process while making sure she could still have time for her writing and anything else she wanted to pursue.
They’d planned to meet again in a week with not only Belkin but the other four families so she could be introduced as the fifth seat at the Phoenix table. She would never have to go into a dangerous situation, but Belkin was excited she was bringing her imagination to the table following the conversations he’d had with his men on her ingenuity and bravery in the face of her captivity.
“Mr. Hawley, Miss. Brookmore, Mr. Hawley will see you now.” A woman working the reception desk smiled warmly. She pointed to a door at the far side of the lobby away from the public elevators. “His security personnel will meet you at his private elevator and escort you up.”
“Excellent.” Presley motioned to her own security personnel and when the women went to open her mouth to protest she turned her back on her and started marching to the elevator.
Cruz was chuckling. “Your power is going to your head.”
“I wonder if this is why good people go bad.” She met his eyes with wonder. “I’m feeling electric. Like I literally
feel charged.”
His chuckle turned into full blown laughter. “I think upstairs I’m going to sit back and watch you annihilate
him.”
“Can I?” she gave an excited little hop as the security guy exited the elevator. She put what she hoped was her game face on.
“Mr. Hawley,” the man nodded at him, “your father is waiting. Just you two though.”
“Not in a million f*****g years,” Presley commented before Cruz could. “Either my security team comes with us, or we don’t go up there and frankly, Mr. Hawley wants us up there.” She waved at his waistband where his radio sat tied to his belt. “Call it up and tell him either my security comes, or we don’t or make an executive decision and allow them but either way, it’s how it’s going to be.”
Cruz smirked at the man, “you heard my fiancée. They come or we don’t.”
The man turned away for a fraction of a second to call it up to whoever the boss was upstairs, and Presley’s grin erupted at his closed back, “oh my God that was fun!”
Cruz buried his face in the top of her hair, “Ladybird, tone it down a smidge. It’s making my d**k hard to see you acting so bossy and I’don’t want to go into my father’s office with a boner.”
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Mr. Hawley
She smacked his chest, her eyes trailing to his waist and then blinked. He wasn’t kidding. Dang
“Now I’ll be thinking of that instead of your father. Why did you tell me?” she moved to block him from anyone
else’s view.
“Baby, you are sexy as sin right now. I promise we’re going to go back to my place and make love for hours
“You were supposed to check in at the office today.”
“Who needs an office? I’ve decided you’re going to be my sugar mama.”
“Oh!” she gave him a shove and then straightened herself when the man turned around.
“Mr. Hawley said you can bring your security team however I was asked to relay he is already quite perturbed.
“Perturbed? I write for a living, and I wouldn’t use the word perturbed in normal conversation. Who is this asshole?” she pushed past the guard and entered the elevator with her team and Cruz flanking her.
They were standing at the back of the elevator a wall of men between them and the one security agent sent
down to intimidate them.
Cruz leaned his head sideways, “I’ve heard you use the word perturbed,” he whispered in her ear.
“I know but I think he’s listening in somehow and I want him to know I think he’s a pretentious asshole even before I get in the room. I can’t wait to call out his debt. He owed Liborio two hundred and fifty million dollars, and I now own that debt. Its going to be so f*****g sweet.” She hissed in Cruz’s ear.
He grabbed her hand and put it on his solidifying c**k. “Stop teasing me.”
She yanked her hand away trying not to laugh at his antics.
The elevator doors opened, and they filed out, her five men and Cruz forming a protective barricade as they walked the hall to Jurgen Hawley’s office.
Entering the office after the guard gave one discreet knock, Presley was buzzing with internal excitement. Jurgen stayed in his seat, not looking up. “Cruz, tell your men to wait outside.”
“They’re my men and they stay.” Presley said bluntly. She took pleasure in the way his head slowly lifted from his computer screen to look at her.
“Excuse me?”
“They are my men. Mine. Not Cruz’s they are mine. They stay.”
“Now listen here young lady.”
“Stop with the patronizing bullshit. They are here because, well frankly, I’m not convinced I won’t ask Cruz to toss you out the window to splatter on the pavement below and frankly I’d feel sorry for the poor people below having to see your brain matter.” Boldly she crossed the office, flung herself into the seat opposite his desk and tried to fight her smile at the way he was turning purple with rage at her insolence. Insolence. Now there was a good word. It was much better than perturbed.
“How f*****g dare you?”
“Watch how you talk to my fiancée, Jurgen.”
A blonde eyebrow rose sharply on the older man’s forehead at the way Cruz addressed his father. “You’re
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Mr. Hawley
calling me by my first name, now? This should be good. Sit.” Jurgen waved to a chair,
“No. I’m standing. I’m here as part of Presley’s entourage. I actually thought we should just call it a day and not bother coming after finding out today how you have been making deals behind my back to try to sabotage my company. I originally thought it was the ravings of a madman when he told me earlier this week you were trying to f**k me over but imagine my irritation to learn how far you’d actually gone when the evidence was put right in front of me.”
Jurgen frowned at him, his poker face impeccable, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about Cruz but sit down and we can sort out this s**t. Your antics, the pair of you, have negatively impacted my business and you’re going to make it right or this young lady will be on the receiving end of a lawsuit.”
“I dare you.” Presley spoke up. “I dare you to try to sue me when I have a file two inches thick straight from my new offices outlining all your criminal activities to the letter. I will say, my suitor really was a thorough son of a bitch.” She looked at Cruz who nodded at her words. She could see even being in the room with his father was stressful for him and decided to try to minimize how long they needed to be there. As much fun as it would be to drag it out it might be hard. She boldly reached onto the top of Jurgen’s desk and grabbed the remote control for the television which was on the wall on a news channel where stocks and the like ran a
ticker on the bottom.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“In exactly thirty seconds from now,” she wiggled her phone as she turned the volume up, “breaking news is going to hit.”
“You can’t know the news ahead of time, Presley.” Jurgen mocked her. “Only a few select individuals in the world, such as me, are capable of such things.” He boasted proudly.
“You aren’t one of them anymore,” she retorted. “Three, two, one.”
“Breaking news out of Italy this morning. Infamous leader of the Bartoli syndicate, Liborio Bartoli, has been confirmed deceased by Italian authorities. It has been confirmed by his organization that it is business as usual. Mr. Bartoli’s last will, and testament outlines his wife will manage the family business. It is confirmed through a family representative how the family as a whole supports this decision, and a meeting has already been held with his wife and the legal representative, and a plan is in place to ensure the business does not suffer during this period of transition. In a statement from the legal representative Mr. Atticus Marella, he advised while he anticipates a short period of flux with stock prices, once the world sees Mr. Bartoli left his businesses in very capable hands to be managed well into the future, these things should settle relatively quickly.”
She smiled and turned her head to Cruz. “Right on time. Atticus’s statement will likely be on repeat a few
weeks.”
“Bartoli is dead?” Jurgen whispered, “you knew before it was reported. How?”
Presley walked to his desk and leaned over it, “guess who his wife was. Go on. Guess.”
“No. You were with Cruz in Nice.“/
“Unfortunately for me, I was with Liborio Bartoli. He loved me desperately, obsessively, to the point of madness. Everything he’s done for the last six years has been single–mindedly done in the pursuit of me and my heart. His entire family knew of it and supported it. They love me by default and will blindly follow me into the abyss.”
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Mr Hawley
“That’s not true.”
“Not only is it true, Jurgen,” she smirked at him as he bristled at her lack of respect, “but my dead husband left me everything.” She looked at Cruz, “I don’t mind much calling him my dead husband.”
“I do.”
She laughed. “You’re marrying a widow. Get over it. I’m loaded. You’ll be well taken care of.”
He snickered at her words. “Sassy.”
She turned her attention back to Jurgen, “your debt to Banco Bartoli now is mine. You want to sue me? Try. The terms of your loan were they can be renegotiated with thirty days‘ notice. This is your thirty days of notice. In thirty days, the loan will be called due. You will pay back my business in the full amount plus the outstanding interest or not only will I divulge all the shady little deals you’ve been doing behind your son’s back to destroy his business, which will ultimately negatively impact the wholesome family values thing you like to tout all over the world, I will also release the s*x tape.”
Cruz made a choking sound.
“Come on Cruz. Please?” she turned to him. “I want to release it.”
“He’s not going to be able to liquidate enough assets to pay you back in full in thirty days. Nobody wants to
see it.”
“We can blur his bits out and his raggedy ass.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“We’re talking about the video Liborio has of you and your housekeeper f*****g in your car. You know, the married housekeeper with three small kids at home, one of which might be Cruz’s half–sibling.”
“I think I threw up in my mouth,” Cruz mumbled.
“How?” Jurgen paled.
“How? I told you. My dead husband was thorough. We’re leaving now, Jurgen. I suggest you begin figuring out how you’re going to pay me back. Oh, before I forget, I made new friends in Nice, thanks to my now dead husband,” she smirked, “my new BFF Belkin asked me to say hello and to tell you he is on my side and so are his affiliates.” She tossed the remote back on the desk and took pleasure in the way Jurgen jumped nervously and then slumped in his chair at her words. “Have a good day, Jurgen. We’ll be chatting soon. Boys. Let’s go.” Without looking back, she strutted out of the office.
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