Revenge Unleashed Page 2

  Howard scoffed and folded his arms over his chest, shaking his balding head.

  “You’re going to run our firm into the ground with this bullshit,” the surly older man snapped. “Mark my words.”

  “If I recall, Howard, ‘Ruiz and Maddox’ existed just fine before you came along,” Yvette barked at the bitter man. But Meredith noticed that Yvette’s dark eyes purposely avoided her own.

  Oh crap. If Mom isn’t looking at me, it’s even worse than I thought.

  “Sit down, Mer,” David instructed. “Dina, get Meredith some coffee.”

  “I have a coffee,” Mer replied, showing her Starbuck’s cup. “Why don’t we just cut to the chase and tell me what you want.”

  Howard snickered, and for the first time, she thought she saw a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes.

  Note to self: being an asshole scores points with Howard Pearlman.

  “Sit down,” Yvette barked, her pleasant demeanor fading, and Meredith knew she had just been “mommed.”

  The blonde sank into a chair and faced her parents defiantly. But she couldn’t deny that whatever challenge they were throwing at her was giving her an insurmountable rush – even if that rush was laced with a tad of dread.

  “You know why you’re here, more or less,” David said firmly, studying Meredith’s face with his impassive “attorney” expression. “There has been a tragic death.”

  Meredith swallowed a snort. Knowing what she knew about the deceased, “tragic” was not a word she would have used to precede his untimely demise.

  “Terrible,” Meredith managed to choke out.

  “In more ways than I can explain,” Yvette lamented, and Meredith’s eyebrows shot up. It wasn’t like her composed mother to speak so freely. Gooseflesh exploded over Meredith’s arms and her emerald eyes narrowed.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t need to tell you what kind of billables his company brings into this firm,” David said quickly, casting his wife a reproving look.

  “Twenty-three and a half percent of our billables,” Meredith intoned. “and that’s without including the merger with Alpine Tech—or is that still a go now that he’s croaked?”

  “Meredith!” Yvette chided. “Have some respect for the dead.”

  “Sorry. Is the merger still happening?”

  There was a long silence as the partners looked to one another and Meredith tried to read their expressions, but they were highly trained in hiding their emotions. She could feel the rising tension in the room.

  “That is a complex question,” David finally offered. “In fact, the future of Vaughan Industries hangs in the balance right now.”

  Meredith cocked her head to the side curiously.

  “That sounds both ominous and ridiculous,” she replied. “How can a company of that magnitude be threatened?”

  “It’s complicated,” Howard volunteered, speaking to her for the first time. “Carter Vaughan was a complicated man.”

  “He was a dick,” Meredith replied without thinking, her mind traveling to the only encounter she had ever had with the bastard. She’d needed a shower afterward and hadn’t even exchanged three words with him at that meeting. All he’d had to do was look at her and she felt like she’d been caught in a scummy pond.

  “Meredith!” Yvette snapped. “Some respect, please.”

  She shrugged nonchalantly.

  “Something tells me he isn’t putting in a good word at the pearly gates for anyone,” the blonde laughed. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Yes, well, be that as it may,” Howard continued. “He was one of our biggest clients and his company must remain on our books.”

  “Why wouldn’t it?” Meredith wanted to know.

  “Because Mr. Vaughan seemed to think that he would live forever,” David sighed. “And he hasn’t revised his will.”

  Meredith stared at her father uncomprehendingly.

  “Okay…?”

  “His son, Luke James Vaughan is the company’s beneficiary,” Yvette interjected, shaking her head as her husband didn’t get to the point quickly enough. “And that might pose a problem.”

  “How’s that?” Meredith wanted to know. She wished they’d spare her the courtroom theatrics and get to the point so she could get back to work. Spending her morning with her parents was not the way Meredith wanted to spend the beginning of her week.

  “Luke hasn’t spoken to his father in almost fifteen years.”

  Meredith blinked once and waited.

  “And?” she demanded when no one added anything else. “So what? You think he’s going to walk away from a multi-billion-dollar empire? He’s probably been biding his time, waiting for the old man to die so he can collect. What’s the problem?”

  “I don’t think it’s that simple, Mer,” David sighed. “In fact, he slammed the door in my face when I told him that Carter was dead.”

  Meredith’s mind began to race.

  Who does that? Even if he hated his old man, he should be chomping at the bit to get his money and spend it on coke, or fast cars, or whatever, right?

  “What does that mean? If he doesn’t take it, what happens? Is there another kid? Next of kin?”

  “According to the will, Luke has to take over the company or it’ll be dismantled and sold off, piece by piece,” he paused dramatically. “And the proceeds going to politicians and political campaigns all over the world. He was a cagey businessman and he knew exactly whose palms to grease and what policies he wanted instituted – then he made it happen. However, I don’t have to tell you what that would mean for this firm.”

  “Wh-what? Why would Carter—I mean, if they were estranged…” she trailed off, trying to get into the mind of the ruthless old bastard. It made no sense that he wouldn’t change his will after fifteen years of not speaking to his son.

  There’s got to be more to this than meets the eye, Meredith thought. But what?

  “I can’t speak to why he wouldn’t change up his will. Maybe he thought his son would come around or maybe he really did think he was immortal. I mean, the man’s ego…” Yvette muttered. She quickly stopped herself from speaking as if she realized that she, too, was speaking poorly of the dead.

  “Well, you can’t force the son to take it, I guess…” she carried on, going through the motions in her own mind. But as the words left her lips, she realized the enormity of what that would mean for the firm.

  We can’t afford to lose a quarter of our annual billings in one fell swoop. We’ll never recover from that!

  Her parents seemed to realize she had gotten where they were in their minds and leaned forward, folding their hands over the boardroom table tersely.

  “So, you understand the problem,” Yvette asked quietly.

  “Yes…” Meredith conceded. “But I don’t know what you want me to do about it. You just told me he slammed the door in your face.”

  In sync, both her parents fell back into their respective seats and exhaled in unison.

  “What?” Meredith demanded, her heartrate resuming a thudding in her chest. “What are you scheming?”

  “Nothing!” David snapped, sounding offended at the implication. “We brought it to you first because we thought you might have a certain way with Junior that others…might not.”

  If Meredith had been more naïve, she might have balked at the suggestion, but she didn’t need to think twice about what she was being asked.

  “What makes you say that?” she asked curiously. Howard slid a file across the desk toward her and Meredith reached for it, nodding as she looked through the compilation on Luke Vaughan.

  He certainly has a type, doesn’t he? She thought wryly, pouring through the pictures of busty, blonde bombshells fawning over him at various events.

  “You want me to seduce Luke Vaughan and convince him to take over the company.”

  It wasn’t a question, nor did it upset Meredith in the least. She knew her parents weren’t expecting her to sleep with the man, only
appeal to his primitive masculine side until he signed the necessary paperwork. Or at least, she hoped that’s what they were thinking. It was hard to tell with Yvette and David sometimes. It wasn’t like she knew them that well, even if they had borne and raised her.

  If you can call it raising.

  “I wouldn’t use the word ‘seduce’, Mer. We just think that you would be more convincing than say, Howard,” Yvette cajoled. “And if you’re uncomfortable, you can say no, obviously. No one will hold it against you.”

  “But,” David interjected quickly, giving Yvette a warning look. “If you say yes and you’re successful, there will be a promotion waiting for you.”

  Meredith’s head jerked up and she looked at him in disbelief.

  “I was just promoted to senior partner,” she reminded him. “What kind of promotion?”

  The partners looked at one another again and Meredith felt her heartrate skyrocket as she realized what they were offering her.

  “Name partner?” she whispered breathlessly. “You’ll make me name partner if I deliver on this?”

  “Yes,” Howard agreed solemnly. Meredith ignored the fact that he didn’t seem happy about the offer at all.

  She gaped at them in disbelief, blood rushing through her ears with so much intensity, it was almost impossible to hear anything else.

  Name partner before I’m thirty. This is the dream!

  “Well?” Howard asked impatiently. “What do you say?”

  “I say that I’ll need to change my last name, because Ruiz, Maddox, Pearlman and Ruiz-Maddox is going to sound weird,” Meredith snickered. “But you have yourselves a deal.”

  Chapter 2

  The thunder of gunfire woke him from his fitful sleep. Instantly, he reached under his pillow for his Smith and Wesson, rolling onto his back, aiming the weapon over his head.

  It took him several second to realize that he was in his apartment in Bloomfield Hills, alone and drenched in sweat. The machine guns were only the contractors, rebuilding the condos across the road for what felt like the fourth year in a row.

  Grunting, Luke cast the firearm aside and pulled his muscular chest upright, cringing at the crack of his back as he moved. Suddenly, who and where he was came flooding back to him in a torrent.

  Not at war anymore, he thought grimly. Not overseas anyway.

  His bare feet touched the sleek wooden floor as he padded across the huge master suite toward the hallway. The smell of fresh coffee wafted into his nostrils and for a moment, he froze.

  Shit. Did I bring someone home last night after the fight?

  He wracked his half-asleep mind, hoping that whomever it was would not be impossible to get rid of. It was uncharacteristic of him to let them stay the night but he’d had a lot to drink.

  To his relief, it was only Soledad in the kitchen, humming to herself as she cleaned up the beer bottles on the counter, her earbuds firmly in place. She hadn’t heard him come in and he watched her for a minute with bleary, hungover eyes.

  “Oh! Shit, Luke,” the maid gasped when she spun around. “You scared me!”

  She yanked the headphones out of her ears and shook her head, laughing.

  “Coffee?”

  “God, yes,” he muttered, falling onto a stool at the island. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”

  “I learned long ago not to wake you after a night of fighting. How does the other guy look?” she teased, eyeing him warmly. He could read the concern in her eyes and for some reason it made him bristle.

  “I can take care of myself, Sol,” he reminded her. “Did it in Iraq and I’m doing it here.”

  She didn’t respond, knowing that no matter what she said, it would likely lead to an argument.

  “Hungry?”

  He snorted at the thought of food. He wasn’t sure he’d ever eat again, not after the visit he’d had from that lawyer the previous day.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Your sister called.” Soledad slid a steaming cup of black coffee in front of him before turning back to the sink. “She tried to call your cell but it was off. I told her you had a fight last night.”

  He gritted his teeth, closing a wide palm around the too-hot surface of the cup and feeling the burn against his hand. But even as the pain started to sear through his skin, he didn’t move it.

  What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, a voice taunted him.

  Had it been someone in the army? A coach? Likely, it had been dear old Dad.

  Whoever it was deserved a punch to the throat.

  Whatever doesn’t kill you, gives you unhealthy coping mechanisms. That’s not strength. That’s sadism.

  Finally, he pulled his hand away from the mug and stared at the red on his fingers, the throb of the burn pulsating through his arm.

  But at least I can still feel, he thought. And that’s something, right?

  “What did Rachel say?”

  Soledad turned, her brown eyes blinking and Luke realized they had been quiet for several minutes.

  “Oh…uh, nothing really. She just asked to speak with you.”

  “Did she sound upset?”

  Soledad turned fully, her brow furrowed slightly.

  “No…I don’t think so. Why?”

  He scowled and took a sip of his scalding coffee before answering.

  “Our sperm donor died yesterday. I thought she might have heard.”

  The maid’s mouth parted and she gaped at him, confusion coloring her face.

  “Y-your sperm donor?”

  “The asshole who impregnated our mother?”

  “Oh! Dios! I’m so sorry, Luke! Why didn’t you say anything?”

  He scoffed lightly.

  “There’s nothing to say. I haven’t seen him in a decade and a half.”

  “Oh…”

  Soledad looked about uncomfortably, clearly unsure of what to say and Luke suddenly felt pissed at himself.

  Why did I tell her that? Why would I put something so heavy on her? Misery really does love fucking company.

  He knew why he’d blurted it out—the fact had weighed on his mind since the uptight suit had blindsided him at the gym the previous morning. The memory of David Maddox’s too-smug face was etched in Luke’s mind like he had been branded.

  That son of a bitch thought he was coming to offer me some opportunity of a lifetime. Telling him to fuck off was almost as good as telling Carter to fuck off all those years ago.

  Learning that his estranged father was dead had been bittersweet. Luke wished he had been there to spit on the bastard one last time, but of course, Carter would never die with notice. That would make things too easy, closure too simple.

  No, instead, Luke was filled with the deep fury which he had buried years ago, the lost words he’d wanted to throw into his father’s face forever locked in his mind.

  All because the piece of shit couldn’t die a long, torturous cancer-ridden death. An aneurism. Quick and painless. He deserved so much worse than that.

  For the first time in his life, Luke felt himself hoping for a Hell, one where his father would be endlessly roasted.

  In some way, Luke felt like he had shat on Carter’s memory by refusing the inheritance but long after David Maddox had left the gym, Luke had to wonder exactly how he had been left as Carter’s beneficiary.

  Not even Rachel. Me. There’s only one reason he would do that—he’s still trying to control me from the grave. Fuck him.

  “A-are there arrangements to be made, Luke?” Soledad asked, bringing him back to the present. “Should I call anyone for you?”

  Disgusted with himself for bringing it up to his housekeeper, he shook his head, averting his cobalt colored eyes from her compassionate stare. He didn’t want or deserve her pity. He was glad Carter was dead…wasn’t he?

  Without saying another word, Luke rose and ambled toward the bathroom. He’d need a shower and some Aspirin before calling Rachel. Whether she knew about Carter or not, she was bound to find out sooner or
later.

  He wondered what Rachel’s reaction would be.

  The spray of the half dozen shower heads erupted as Luke turned on the shower and he pushed the thought of his sister out of his mind for a few minutes.

  His body was aching in every inch and suddenly, he was back in the octagon, administering the blows to Jerry Jarvis’ face, one after the other. In his mind, Luke wasn’t fighting an opponent, as a crowd cheered him on. Jerry became Carter and Luke was a young boy again on the floor of the study.

  It wasn’t until the ref yanked him down, his trainer atop him did Luke realize he had probably gone too far.

  I need to check up on him, Luke thought regretfully, stepping into the steam shower. Last he remembered, his trainer, Jonesy had told Luke that Jarvis was fine.

  “Couple broken ribs and a shattered cheekbone. Nothing he hasn’t had before,” Jonesy muttered. “You, on the other hand, need to watch yourself. Men have been disqualified for less than that.”

  It was an isolated incident. If anyone knows discipline, it’s me, FFS. I’m glad I didn’t kill him.

  Yet as he soaped himself, the power that coursed through him at the memory of being in the octagon, in the midst of a battle to win at all costs, made his cock stir. His hand slid down to grasp his aching shaft.

  In hindsight, it was shocking that he hadn’t brought home a woman. The news of Carter’s death, the fight, the anger—it was all a perfect storm of tension that needed to be released.

  His fist closed around his shaft and Luke fell against the wall as his grip slid over the head. He closed his eyes and tried to conjure the picture of a fine set of cheeks in front of him, curvy, spread and ready to take his thick cock as he teased a swollen clit with his fingertips.

  With a grunt, his stroked himself harder, his even white teeth clenched on his lower lip but no matter how much he tried to envision himself plunging into a screaming blonde, her hands splayed against the glass of the shower, he couldn’t bring himself near enough to a climax.

  “Fuck!” he muttered, opening his eyes after a few minutes. His rod was growing raw with all the friction but his balls refused to release his pent-up frustration.