The Billionaire's Secret: A BWWM Romance Mystery (13 page)

Chapter
Twenty - Six

We swept out of Center City, heading
west on Walnut. The buildings of University City gave over to the tightly
packed rowhomes of West Philadelphia. Crossing through Upper Darby, we suddenly
emerged into the entirely different world of the Main Line.

The longer we drove, the more Liam's
mood lightened.

"Just let me see what she wants
and then we'll go," he assured me.

"There are plenty of amazing
restaurants out here," I nodded. "The night is still young."

He smiled at me. "Thank you for
coming with me, Shay, I know it's asking a lot."

"Hey, I'm finally meeting your
mother," I grinned. "That's even more 'officially dating' than going
out to dinner."

"After putting you though
meeting Dahlia, I feel like I owe you a loftier title than just girlfriend."

"What were you thinking?"

"Hmm, I'll have to consider
it," he smiled as we rolled to a stop. Darius threw the car into park and
came around to open the door. Liam grabbed my ass as I emerged from the open
door.
 
"I like you in
skirts," he said in that thick whisper of his that signals he's about to
say something filthy. Darius chose that moment to head right back into the
driver's seat.

"It's finally warm enough to
wear them," I replied, my skin buzzing. I knew Liam didn't care to hear my
explanation, but he nodded all the same. And the truth was, it really
wasn't
warm enough to wear a skirt. I
was shivering, but right now it had nothing to do with the cold.

"Give me your underwear,"
he said.

Ah, there was the filthiness.

I hesitated. I didn't know Dahlia and
she didn't know me. And from what I did know, she sounded like a complete
horror show. A brittle old woman who would find going bare-assed completely
scandalous.

I nodded. "Right here?"

He nodded once. I reached up under my
skirt and handed the scrap of white lace to him. He took it, crumpled it in his
hand and tucked it into the inner pocket of his suit coat. "Thank
you."

I squirmed, feeling the bareness of
my thighs brushing against the silk lining of my skirt. "Thank you,"
I half moaned.

Liam turned to face the gray pile of
stone. "We just see what the hell she couldn't say over the phone and get
out of here," he leaned his head close to my ear. "I have something
new I want to try tonight."

I swallowed hard, the ache already
sounding in my groin. "Okay," I could handle a short visit. This was
the woman who raised Liam...and I
really
liked Liam, so maybe I'd end up liking her after all?

Liam took my arm. His stiff spine,
the tight grip of his fingers, the pulse that beat at his temple all put me on
high alert as we walked through the high door into the grand foyer. He steered
me to the left, into a vast great room. "She knows we're here," he
rumbled as he sat back on the Victorian sofa alongside the huge fireplace.
"We can relax for the moment."

I smoothed my skirt and sat down,
acutely aware of my nakedness underneath. I was trying to do exactly that, but
as I looked around, my whole body was on red alert. There was something
so...wrong, about this house. And as I looked around it began to dawn on me
what it was.

Just like Liam's apartment, there was
nothing here that pointed to a personal life at all. No baby pictures. No
snapshots, no portraits...no record of Liam's childhood at all.
 

It was like he didn't exist to her.

But that's ludicrous. She's his mother!

I looked harder. I must have missed
them. I stood up and walked to the mantle and eyed the framed portraits there.

They were pictures of white Persian
cats.

A flutter of revulsion made me giggle
hysterically. I shot a look at Liam, but he was staring straight ahead, lost in
brooding, angry silence.

"Oh shit!" I startled as a
white blur shot past me. Like one of the pictures coming to life, a gorgeous
white Persian leapt up and settled into the chair by the fire. It turned three
times and then settled down to watch us both with disapproving eyes.

I looked from this animal back to the
pictures on the mantle and back again.

It was one and the same.

"Dahlia breeds Persians."
Liam sounded like he had something stuck in his throat. "Or, rather, she
sponsors a breeder so she doesn't have to deal with the messy life bits that
gross her out...." He pointed to the odd assortment of vases and urns that
lined the great stone mantle. "All this guy's parents and grandparents, right
there."

I felt my nose twitch. No record of
Liam's childhood, but she had shrines to her dead cats. It made my skin crawl.

There was the echoing sound of high
heels on the marble floors. "Billy?"

We both turned at the voice, me
startling badly, Liam turning more slowly, his every movement dripping in
contempt.

Dahlia Graves stood in the wide
doorway, resplendent in a designer suit and a string of pearls. She was taller
than I had expected. Her hair was cut into a sleek, stylish pageboy. It was as
smooth as glass and was a shade lighter than the dove gray suit she was
wearing.

She looked down her aquiline nose at
us, and I recognized the wicked set of her mouth. It was the same as Liam's.
But while he had that boyish dimple to offset its severity, Dahlia's lips were
cruel.

She stood there impatiently. She was
waiting for some kind of greeting, but Liam didn't make any move to say hello.
He only stared at her....

She, in turn, stared at me.

"H-hello," I stammered.
"I'm Shay." I held out my hand.

She looked down at it like I had
offered her a dead fish. I was certain she knew her son had my panties in his
pocket.

"Shay," she repeated. She
made my name sound obscene.

Liam made a low sound and moved
behind me, squeezing my upper arms possessively. "Dahlia, this is Shay. We
were just on our way out for the evening...."

"You're together?" she
said. It wasn't so much a question as an accusation.

Liam gently moved me aside and
stepped in front of me. I hated how grateful I was to be out of her direct line
of sight. She was looking at me like I had just defecated on her carpet.

"Why did you want me to come
over instead of just telling me on the phone?" Liam was exasperated.

"Well, Billy, I certainly don't
want to keep you from your plans with...Shay," she spat my name out and I
felt the gooseflesh rise on my arms. My cheeks were heating up and my heart
pounded in my ears. I was going to lose it in a second. "But this,"
she smacked an opened envelope into Liam's palm, "needs your signature."

Liam didn't look down, but that
dangerous pulse beat at his temple. "What is it?" he asked, steel in
his voice.

Dahlia eyed me and then lifted her
chin. "Family business."

She looked back and forth with those
icy blue eyes that chilled me to the bone. "Enjoy your night out
together."

"So...that's it?" Liam
asked.

"That's what? I have plans too.
Your brother doesn't like waiting for his dinner," Dahlia said, her voice
a chill in the air.

She swept from the room without
saying goodbye.

"You have a brother?" I
stammered, watching her go. Their entire exchange felt thick with secrets. If I
were still looking for hidden meanings, I was sure to find them lurking in
every shadow. Hatred, guilt - a whole lot of racism. Layers upon layers of
them. Dahlia Graves was like an onion of bad feelings.

"I don't have a brother,"
Liam said dully. "She's talking about the fucking cat."

I wanted to laugh but there was too
much sadness in his voice.

I closed my fists and waited a beat.
This new information was something I couldn't process. Whether to laugh or cry,
I wasn't sure anymore. And Liam wasn't giving me any guidance. He was
silent...except for the quickened pace of his breath.

I felt like ice water was pouring
into my chest.

When I dared sneak a look at him,
Liam was staring at the piece of paper his mother had handed him. His eyes
darted back and forth, scanning, not really reading, and his lips were pressed
together in a thin line. The muscle in his jaw twitched like a metronome, beat
beat beat.

When he saw me staring at him, he
crumpled the paper in his fist and shoved it into his pocket. "Darius,
please take Shay home," he said, staring straight ahead.

Darius stepped out from the foyer.
The momentary realization that he had been hiding there, away from Dahlia's icy
blue disapproval made me jealous. I wished I had joined him. But that didn’t
mean I would go with him now.

"Liam, what is it?"

He didn't answer. I could taste
panic. "Liam...?" I reached out to touch his arm.

He threw my hand off of him.
"Please...," he grunted, his rage barely contained - at me, at the
letter, at Dahlia, I wasn't sure but I was still terrified in its proximity.
"Just go. Do as I say."

Terror was replaced with temper.
"No! Just because I let you..." I lowered my voice, "
do
things to me doesn't mean I let you
order me around. This isn't the bedroom, asshole."

"Just GO!" he thundered,
and his face was terrible.

Darius stepped swiftly to my stunned
side. "Come with me Shay," he said, reaching out his hand. "I'll
take you home."

Chapter
Twenty - Seven

Two texts and three phone calls later
and I still hadn't heard anything from Liam.

I replaced my phone on the counter
and looked at Kit. "Nothing."

He shook his head. "Of course he
turns out to be an asshole. Guys that look like that? They always are."

In spite of how much I wanted to
agree with him, a small part of me still rose to defend Liam. "He's
not...normally an asshole."

"Honey, how in the hell do you
know how he is...normally?" Kit shook his head. "Good in bed doesn't
mean good for the head."

I snorted. "Where's that
from?"

"I just made it up." Kit
preened a little, slicking down a curl of red beard.

I shot him a sarcastic smile.
"Well then, you're brilliant!"

He sighed. "If I were brilliant,
I would come up with a way to save this place. If only to stop my mother's
crying."

The image of Mrs. Young's kind face
crumpled in tears nearly brought me to tears myself. I brushed it to the side
as quickly as I could. "You'll think of something."

"Well I can't very well keep
asking you to go without a paycheck."

"Kit, I'm fine," I soothed,
and then I reddened when I remembered why I was fine. Liam had paid my bills
the night I let him tie me up.

I was a fucking prostitute.

No. He didn't get to just shove me
out of a rough part of his life. Not if he claimed this meant something to him.

"Earth to Shay!"

Kit had been talking. I snapped back
into focus. "Sorry."

"Girl just
go
then!" Kit exploded. "Fuck, I mean, I'm not even
paying you right now, I can't make you stay here. Go find your man and demand
to know why his fine ass is being a dick." He trailed off and pretended to
wipe drool from his mouth. "Sorry, got distracted there a second. It was a
nice image."

I laughed out loud. It felt good.
"You sure?"

"Positive. Give 'em hell. Then
have crazy makeup sex."

That was an appealing thought.
"Thanks, lover. Kiss mama for me."

It was still too damn cold outside,
but the sun was shining brightly and the steady drip drip of the melting snow
off rooftops gave me hope.

It was a long walk to Liam's office,
but strangely I didn't mind. I was actually doing something about what had
happened. With Tre, I only stood back in denial. Now I was actually confronting
Liam's behavior head on. Telling him he couldn't get away with it. Not with me.

I wasn't that kind of girl anymore.

Walking north on 8th street, I
started crossing the city diagonally, moving from the working class shops below
South Street up through the deserted touristy areas and into the glass-walled
canyons of Center City.

Liam's office was in the high rise at
17th and Locust and by the time I reached it I was really regretting not taking
a cab.

My hair was frizzed out underneath my
woolen cap and I was sweating underneath my puffy jacket. I didn't smell too
great either.

But I still held my head high in the
lobby. And luckily there was no security to stop me from heading right to the
elevator.

His office was on the top floor. He
probably had an incredible view of Liberty Place. I bounced up and down on my
toes and realized I was actually excited to surprise him at work. I wanted to
see his face light up when I walked in.

Then I sternly reminded myself of why
I had come. To give him hell, in the words of Kit Young.

But I still couldn't hold back the
teeny bit of pride I felt when the elevator let me off into a long hallway
leading to a large oaken door with his name on it.
William Graves Development
, it read in sleek, gold script.

My man.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed my way
in.

And heard shouting.

I froze. The roof of Liberty Place
was just outside of the floor to ceiling windows, but no one was there to take
in the view. No receptionists, no assistants, no employees. Just loud, angry
voices from down the hall.

I started moving to the door, my curiosity
getting the better of me. I passed workstations that were still powering down,
still warm and humming. Chairs were pushed back like people had left in a
hurry.

A shout and then a crash. I hurried
down the hall towards the sound of a woman, screeching incoherently.

And then a loud voice. A firm voice.
Liam's voice shouting back, "Lily, stop it!"

Lily.

My pulse sounded in my ears. Thick
choking rage closed off my throat.

Lily.

Lily was here.

Alone with him.

I reached the door. The screams had
been replaced with muffled sobs now. I heard Liam's voice rumbling, soft and
soothing.

I pushed the door open. And saw her
in his arms.

She was tiny while he was huge, pale
while he was golden. Her fine blond hair hung in tatters down her bony back.
She was thin to the point of being skeletal.

He was holding her. Close, so close,
petting her hair and whispering while she clung to him.

Everything about her was the opposite
of me.

I pushed the door open wider and it
let out a creak.

Both of them froze. They turned to
look at me.

Liam's face crumpled. "Shay.
Shit."

And then I was running.