The Mogul and the Muscle: A Bluewater Billionaires Romantic Comedy(75)

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“Never mind. Bobby, you’re the only child of a billionaire. You already have a trust fund that must be enormous and you’re going to inherit your father’s wealth someday. You don’t need to own Spencer to live exactly the kind of life you’ve been living until you die of an untreated STD. Or from falling off your yacht when you’re too drunk to swim and everyone partying with you is too high to notice.”

He snorted. “Yeah, if only that were true.”

I exchanged a confused glance with Inda. “Which part?”

“I’m not inheriting shit from my father. He’s leaving all his money to some fucking charitable foundation. And my trust fund isn’t going to last. The old man’s being a dick and says he won’t give me more money.”

“You’re thirty-six. How did you blow through your entire trust fund already?”

He shrugged. “Being an entrepreneur isn’t cheap. Most businesses fail, that’s just how it goes. I took some hard losses.”

“Like when you bought a dilapidated hotel to refurbish and then abandoned the project because you got bored?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

I decided not to mention that the failure rate for new businesses was one hundred percent if you didn’t put in any actual work.

“Since we’re apparently doing the thing where you spill your guts and tell me all your diabolical plans, will you explain something to me?” I asked.

“Yeah, but we need to hurry this up. The boss man is going to be here any minute to sign his part of the agreement.”

“We’re coming back to the part about a boss man in a second, but why did you have me attacked? Why try to hit me with a car? Why break in to my house? I don’t understand how any of that was supposed to get me to sign the company over to you.”

“It’s not complicated, Cami,” he said. “Me and some buddies came up with the plan. We figured if we scared you enough, it would be easy to convince you to back down and give me what I want.”

Turning my head, I exchanged another look with Inda.

“That plan is terrible.”

“No, it would have worked. But you had to fuck it up by hiring that goddamn bodyguard.”

There wasn’t any point in arguing with him over the idiocy of his plan, although it didn’t make any sense. I shifted in the chair, trying to find a way to ease the growing ache in my legs from the way I was sitting and the fact that I couldn’t move.

“So you had me kidnapped. I suppose it was those guys who were following me this morning?” I nodded toward the armed henchman, who stood silently by a wall. “And they trashed my office and planted a bug?”

“A bug?” he asked. “I didn’t have them plant a bug. But holy shit, Cami, these guys are so legit. They broke into Spencer headquarters, can you believe it? I told them how I got into your house and I thought they would have been more impressed, but whatever. These guys are fucking professionals. It’s costing me a fortune, but it won’t matter because I’m about to own a multi-billion-dollar corporation.”

“No, you’re not.”

He chuckled. “Uh, yeah, I am.”

“Even if I do sign that, which I won’t, it’ll be under duress. That won’t be a valid contract.”

“Whatever, I have amazing lawyers. That’s part of what I bought by partnering with the Russians.”

Boss man. Sign his part of the agreement. Partnering with the Russians. I felt the color drain from my face. This wasn’t just Bobby the douchebag doing something crazy and stupid. He hadn’t just hired a group of professional criminals to help him with his half-cocked plot to steal ownership of the company.

He was selling his soul to the Russian mob. And he had no idea what he’d gotten us into.

My brain chose that moment to remind me that Jude didn’t know I was gone. And I’d left my phone in my bedroom.

He had no way of knowing where I was. If he even realized I was gone in time.

Panic was starting to win.

“Oh god, Bobby, what have you done?”

“Well, I have shit to do, and I really want to get out to Fort Lauderdale tonight,” he said, ignoring me. “There’s supposed to be this badass party. Everyone’s going to be there.” He walked to the table and pulled a stack of paperwork out of the envelope, then pushed it toward me. He picked up the pen and held it out.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” I asked. “I’m tied to a chair.”

“Shit, I hadn’t thought about how we were going to do this part.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, can you guys untie one of her arms or something?”

The henchmen shared a look—I briefly imagined them doing some sort of mental rock paper scissors—then one of them headed our direction.

My mind raced. What could I do with one arm free and the rest of me tied to a chair? Not much. Even if I did get in a good shot against the henchman while he untied me, the other one was armed, and there were more close by.

As if to remind me of that fact, four more armed men filed into the room. Bobby turned and plastered a douchey smile on his face while a man in an exquisitely tailored suit walked in.

The boss man.

I’d never seen him before, but I didn’t need to know his name to know he was in charge. People in power often had a look about them. They moved a certain way, as if they had utter confidence that their every word would be heeded without question.