Chapter 44: Ava - Reckless Love

I called in sick. When I woke up and saw Stephen was gone, I felt ill. Since I already spoke to my mother about the chaos she caused in my life, I can only imagine how well calling her on her bullshit went for Stephen.

Gage took Landon to school because I told him I was doing divorce-related things—what I didn’t tell him was that I was determining whether I could even seek a divorce.

At the mansion I once shared with Raul, I let myself in. Despite the minimal staff who’ve been keeping the place from cobwebs and dust, the air is stale. I stare up at the high ceiling of the front foyer, and then I look around, taking in the neutral brown-and-cream décor. It’s like I’m seeing the place for the first time. Why did we choose this giant house? Nothing about this place is what I’d want. Whose idea was it? Did I ever love it?

The emotional haze I’ve been living in since I found out I was pregnant has well and truly cleared. There’s no fog of indifference.

Taking the stairs up to the second level, I enter Raul’s office—the one I never go in. While I’ve always suspected that this is where he keeps the really incriminating stuff he does, I’ve never tested my theory. The office downstairs is for daylight, but this one? It’s the one he goes to in the dead of night.

I don’t even try to hide my prying. Without a care, I open drawers, read through papers, unlock anything I can find a key for. But I don’t completely understand what I’m seeing and reading. I’ve been so detached from his business decisions and deals that I can’t pinpoint what’s legitimate and what’s shady.

“Ava?” Stephen calls from downstairs.

I go to the door of the office. “Up here!” I yell down, and then I go back to looking for something, anything that can save me.

“What are you doing?” he asks from the doorway.

“How’d you find me?”

“I track your phone. I have since you were my client.”

I stop with contract papers in my hands, and I stare at him across the space of the oversized office. “Do you track all your clients after they stop paying you?”

“Only when I’m in love with them.” He eyes the tornado of documents around the room. “Not exactly subtle.”

“How bad was the meeting?” I ask, almost afraid to voice the question.

He takes a USB key out of his pocket, and he waggles it at me. “Not sure what I’ve got, but she gave me the Santos folder. She said it would be enough to take him down.”

“God,” I breathe out. “What must you have on my mother to get the whole folder?” My mother has always doled out information in half measures, saving whatever she wants for some rainy-day surprise.

“For everything I’ve got on her, she’s got an equal amount on me.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Look, Ava, I want to be honest.” He meets my gaze across the room. “If we go after your mother like you want…” He swallows. “I can’t promise I won’t suffer consequences. Maybe big ones. We got what we need. Maybe we stop here.”

“We can’t know until we see what she’s given us.” I circle Raul’s desk and take Stephen’s hand to lead him to my home office down the hall. “You’re the one who says we have some power here.”

“Yeah, well…” He releases a deep sigh. “I may have just used all mine to get this.”

In my office, I fire up the desktop I haven’t touched since the accident, and as soon as it’s ready, I plug in the USB. Stephen drags a chair over to sit beside me, and as I click through the files, we talk through what we’re seeing. My mother didn’t just collect evidence on him before we got married. She’s been accumulating information on him this whole time—bribes and intimidation he committed against the union organization, workers who claimed mistreatment that he paid off. There’s also evidence proving negligence for several workers who died over a number of years in the warehouse. It looks like Raul somehow turned those instances into “accidental” deaths, even though my mother’s evidence seems to prove otherwise. None of the workers who died ever made the papers or were spoken about in our circles.

It’s almost like my mother was building a case against Raul using all the evidence she could accumulate.

“Did she do this a lot?” I ask.

“All the time,” he admits. “I broke laws to get her documents, photos, whatever else she needed as leverage. She’s got files like this on a lot of people. Information is currency.”

My mother has copies of NDAs that families signed to receive payoffs from Raul, and for those he couldn’t pay off, there’s a clear trail of intimidation in photos, testimonials, and even a few video clips of what people experienced at the hands of Raul or the executives at the company.

Not a single person got anything resembling justice in all the years Raul has been operating The Nile.

If any of this was passed between workers, I can see why the unionization happened, why the strike happened. They didn’t just need better pay; they needed protection.

“This is a lot,” I whisper. “How did I not know any of this?”

“You didn’t want to know,” Stephen says.

My stomach swoops at how true that statement is. Raul and I lived in the same house, but our lives never intermingled. When they did, it was at fundraisers or work events, and the people attending those were often executives and investors. To me, and I’m embarrassed to think it let alone admit it, his workers didn’t exist. Not in a real way.

And if it wasn’t for my siblings, I’m not sure I’d have turned out any better as the head of my company. My mother’s influence runs deep in me, and I’m ashamed of that truth. I’ve been lucky enough to be surrounded by good people. Or I was until I got involved with Raul.

“It’s so clear my mother knew exactly who I was marrying. Years of terrible behavior that he either intimidated people to minimize, or he paid people off to stop them from pressing charges. People died. She knew the house she was putting me in. The house I’d be raising my son in.” I sit back in my chair, and I cover my face with my hands for a few deep breaths. Stephen runs his large palm along my thigh in a soothing motion. When I ease my hands down my face, I purse my lips. “I think I’m a bad person.”

“You’re not a bad person,” Stephen says. “You’re single-minded sometimes.”

“I treated my employees at Reckless pretty well, I think. All those surveys will tell me if I’m right. But I never asked or even questioned if Raul was doing the same. Part of me probably knew he wasn’t. But this…” I toss my hand at the computer. “How was all this just swept under the rug? Like none of these people mattered?”

“This is unlikely to be all of it,” Stephen says with a grimace. “Your mother would never show all of her cards.”

“More? No. Really?”

“I would bet money on it. She had this file already set up. I’m sure she did it after you came to see her, knowing I’d never let her say no to you. As well as I know her, she knows me too, Ava. You’ve always been one of the people I’d walk through hell for, and Celia has wielded that—and honestly, so has the rest of your family—whenever it suited them.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Come on—none of them ever said they’d used you as a bargaining chip to get me to do something?”

My cheeks heat because of course they did, and I never questioned it, never wondered if it was good for him or even for us. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have let them do that.”

“I let them do it too.”

“Yeah, but they’re my family, and I knew you’d do anything.” My voice cracks. “I knew you’d do anything for me, and it wasn’t fair. That I knew that. That I used that. That I let them use that.”

He lifts me out of my chair and over onto his lap. With gentle fingers, he eases my hair behind my ears, and he stares at me for a beat. “I really would, you know. Pay any cost if it meant you paid nothing.”

“I know,” I say, “but that’s not how things work now. When you pay, I pay. When you suffer, I suffer. There’s no you and me now. We’re an us.”

“We’re taking down Raul. That’s not even a question. But your mother?”

“Family meeting,” I say. “If we’re going after her too, I need to know she can’t get to you.”

“I don’t know how anyone in your family can guarantee that, Ava. But I’m willing to see what they say.”

“If they can’t,” I say, cupping his cheek with my palm, “then we stick with Raul. I’m not losing you over some revenge plot that leaves Landon without his dad and me without the love of my life.”

“Say it again,” he murmurs, nuzzling my ear.

“You’re the love of my life.”

“You’re fucking right I am,” he says, and then he kisses me before lifting me up to set me on the desk. “Every time you say that, something inside me goes absolutely feral. I’m going to claim that title right here on this desk, in this house, just because I can. Would you like that?”

“Yes.” I wrap my hand around the back of his neck as he kisses me deeply before pushing up my skirt.

“Have I told you how much I love all these skirts and dresses you wear?” He kneels to kiss a line up my thigh.

“Not lately.”

“Every single one has my seal of approval.”

“I like it best when you approve of them by exploring what’s underneath.” I open wider as he makes his way inward.

He chuckles, running his nose along my panties. “And I love looking at you later and knowing there’s still some of me inside you.”

His eyes are full of desire when they meet mine briefly before he returns his focus where I really want it. “Are you wet for me yet, baby?” He runs his index finger over my panties and along my center. “Mmm. You are. We should get you out of these wet clothes.” His index fingers grip the edges of my panties and tug them down until they’re on the floor. Then he runs his finger up my center. “Just the way I like it.”

“Warm and wet and waiting for you,” I agree, breathless with anticipation. “Don’t make me wait.”

He sets my legs on his shoulders, and then he licks and sucks, falling into the rhythm that’ll drive me to the brink as quickly as possible. I let my head fall back, my hair skimming the desk, as I let the anticipation build. How did I ever settle for anything else when I knew this kind of passion existed? That I could lose track of time and space so easily…

When I’m close, I wind one of my hands into the short strands of his hair, and immediately, he’s over me. I don’t know when he took off his pants, but I’m grateful for the multitasking. He pushes in deep with forceful thrusts meant to spur my desire on, urge me into the spiral of sensations only he can achieve.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs against my ear. “Make me proud.”

Then I’m clutching him as I’m swept away, limbs shaking with pent-up desire, at the same time he scoops my ass up, angling deeper, hitting exactly the right spot.

“Stephen,” I cry out, clinging to him, barely coherent with the blaze of emotions burning through me. “I love you. I’ll never love anyone else the way I love you.” And then I can barely catch my breath as wave after wave of my orgasm crashes over me, and he chases his own, keeping us so tight that I don’t know where I begin and he ends.

* * *

My siblings respond to my meeting request about Mom faster than I expect. Up until now, I’ve kept Landon’s paternity between me, Stephen, and Caitlin. And I guess Stephen told Vanessa. Before we figured out how to deal with our situation, I wasn’t sure I wanted everyone to know. Pity isn’t an emotion I want to inspire. But I’m ready to dig into the truth.

Once we’re all seated in the main living room of my mansion—including Caitlin, who I brought for legal advice—I take them through everything I’ve discovered about Landon’s parentage, about the cover-up, about Raul refusing a divorce, about Mom refusing to help, about Stephen blackmailing her, and then about her threats against him in return.

“She fucking did it to you too,” Nathaniel says, an edge of rage in his voice. “Destroyed your happiness because she thought she knew better. I’m so tired of her god complex.”

“What does she have on you?” Maren asks, turning to Stephen.

“I could guess,” he says, tilting his head back and forth. “Could be wrong.” He releases a deep sigh. “If it’s the worst of the worst”—he glances at me—“most of what she has will be tied to various laws around intimidation, manipulation of evidence, assault, accessory to many, many crimes.”

“Murder?” Maren asks, no hint of judgment in her voice.

“Not knowingly, no,” Stephen says.

I reach for his hand and squeeze it.

“If the police go in and seize her quickly, she may not have time to form her retaliation,” Sawyer says. “That’s what happened with Dalton. Everything was done fast for that reason.”

“Dalton didn’t have police and judges in his pocket,” Stephen says. “Celia does.” He glances at me. “Raul probably does too.”

“Do you know who?” Gage asks. “Maren, could you talk to Alex? Can he make sure they both go in front of people who aren’t corrupted?”

Getting King Alexander involved would be a big deal. He tries to stay out of things that are politically dicey. Putting Raul Santos and Celia Tucker in jail is a big statement.

“If he’s presented with all the evidence you’ve just explained to me, I think he’d be happy enough to spin that in the press. The fat cats going down for their crimes. Sell that not everyone with money can do whatever they want with no consequences.” Maren takes a deep breath. “Obviously a harder conversation for Brice and I in the press—since she’s my mother.”

“It’ll be a hard conversation for all of us,” Gage agrees. “A lot of my real estate clients might get antsy that they’ll be next.”

“Hopefully that includes my brother, Hugh,” Caitlin says. “Many of the people we’re talking about have been making questionable decisions and alliances for years. Taking those two out might prompt a bit of a reset with the wealthy class.”

“That’s great,” I say, feeling impatient. “But can we protect Stephen from the fallout? Awkward conversations are nothing compared to my son growing up without his father, not to mention me losing…” I hesitate for a beat. “Me losing the person I love.”

“It’s about fucking time you admitted that,” Gage says.

“I’ll talk to Alex,” Maren says.

“Deal with Raul first,” Nathaniel says. “It sounds like that move has Mom’s approval. Once he’s dealt with, we can go after Mom. She’ll never see it coming.”

“I’m not playing fair with him,” I say. “I’m getting him to sign the papers, and then I’m turning over all the evidence to the police. All of it.”

“You should,” Sawyer agrees. “And we’ll all stand together against Mom. We won’t let her win this time.”

* * *

In Boston, I grip Caitlin’s hand as we head toward Raul’s hospital room. Stephen insisted on coming this time, but I made him wait at the airport with the plane. If Raul saw him, it would only draw out this ultimatum even more, and it might make Raul feel as though he has some say in matters. Raul is trapped by his own machinations, and I want him to feel the pinch.

As soon as we get these documents signed, I’m going home. I’m starting over.

And this time, I’m doing everything the way I should have done it the first time. No lies or regrets. No bad decisions. No forced hands. I’m walking into the next phase of my life with my heart open and with a true certainty over the direction I’m taking. I know exactly what I want.

When I’m at his door, Raul looks up from his tablet, and when he sees Caitlin step into the room beside me, his frown deepens.

“This is unexpected,” he says. “I told you we’d discuss everything when I was back in Bellerive.”

“I decided I’d rather make my own terms,” I say. “Caitlin?”

Caitlin goes to Raul’s bedside, and she removes documents from her purse, setting them on the table across his hips. When I asked Caitlin if we could record this conversation, just in case he says anything we could use in court against him, she said we couldn’t. Neither Massachusetts nor Bellerive allow someone to be recorded without their consent.

Raul scans the photos, and then he flips through the pile of documents. “Where did you get all this?” His tone is amazed, and then he grimaces. “Your mother. I suppose she’s decided our partnership no longer serves her. Is that what this means?”

“It means my partnership with you no longer serves me,” I say. “I want an uncontested divorce. Quick and painless. You’ll also sign the dissolution of paternity that Caitlin has there.” I nod at the document Caitlin slides within his reach along with a pen she clicks into action.

“And if I don’t, you’ll turn me in?”

“I want out, and if you won’t let me go peacefully, I’ll make it as hard on you as you threatened to make it on me. Only one of us will end up in jail. Spoiler alert—it won’t be me.”

“You want your son? That’s it?”

“You can read,” I say, nodding at the additional papers Caitlin slides his way.

He scans them in silence and then looks up at me as though I’ve gone mad. Maybe I have. Power hungry for sure. Learning what my mother did, realizing all Raul’s crimes, has made me brave in a new way. No matter what, I won’t be the one getting screwed over.

“You want Reckless and The Nile?”

“You can keep the house and whatever other international assets you have. But I want The Nile. The people of Bellerive deserve better than you.”

“Ah,” he says with a slight chuckle, “you’re going to be their savior, are you?”

“My head is out of the sand, Raul. Interpret that whatever way you want.” Because I don’t care what he thinks of me. His opinion can’t touch me at all anymore.

“I sign these documents and you shred your evidence?”

“I’m happy for Caitlin to create a paper trail of your misdeeds that we can sign to say I won’t say anything about any of it. Doesn’t seem like something you’d want, but we can do that.” I turn to Caitlin as though that’s something we considered. “You have that document with the itemized list?”

Raul holds up his hand. “If Celia is done with me, which is what this seems like, you can have your son and Reckless. The Nile, though…”

“Does this seem like a negotiation?” I ask. “It’s a takedown. You either sign it all, or I take you down. I’ll get my divorce, and I’ll get my son whether you’re in or out of jail. With you in jail, I’ll go after your company anyway, and I’ll get it. You want to survive? Cut your losses and start over.”

He clicks the pen, staring at me.

“It’s a today deal or it’s a never deal. Your choice,” I say.

“An uncontested divorce, your son, Reckless, and The Nile,” he says, “none of my other assets, and you keep the evidence your mother gave you buried forever.”

“Sign the papers,” I say.

With one last wary look, he flicks through the pages, initialing and signing. Caitlin scoops them all up, and she deposits them in a manilla envelope that she tucks into her purse.

Then I leave without a backward glance, confident in the knowledge that as soon as our divorce is finalized, as soon as the dissolution of paternity is filed, I’ll be turning over every scrap of evidence my mother accumulated to the police.

I’m taking all the trash out of my life.