The Terms: Part One (The Terms Duet) Read online

  THE TERMS

  Ruby Rowe

  Copyright © 2017 Ruby Rowe Books

  Cover Art by Just Write. Creations

  Cover Model-Alfie Gabriel

  Cover Photography by Pink Ink Designs

  Edited by Proofreading by the Page

  All Rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  ISBN-13: 978-1545081693

  ISBN-10: 1545081697

  NOTES

  The Terms: Part One is told from the points of view of Camilla and Ellis.

  This novel ends in a cliffhanger. It contains explicit language and graphic sex, including aspects of BDSM.

  DEDICATION

  To the love of my life, Patrick.

  Contents

  NOTES

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  END NOTES

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  Camilla

  “Only you could be this attractive after death,” I mumble, “and maybe that evil brother of yours.” Damn, is it wrong I’m admiring a man who’s lying in a casket? Dead at thirty-three. That’s crazy, and what happened for you to die so young?

  I need to wrap this up before I’m noticed. Surely, those three cars in the parking lot belong to the funeral staff. I mean, there’s only five minutes left of visitation and a foot of snow on the ground.

  After glancing around to ensure I’m alone in the room, I reach in my purse and retrieve the small photo of my little one. Eyeing his cute chubby cheeks, I then tuck the picture beneath Tony’s arm that’s resting peacefully over his stomach.

  That sweet boy is the innocence, love and hope to all the dark perversion I witness every night at my job. There is not a greater gift than the love he gives back to me.

  “Maybe I should’ve told you Liam was your son,” I mutter, “but what if you’d taken him from me? I understand he needs a father, too, but he deserves one who isn’t into shady–dangerous–shit. You asshole.

  “Why did you have to make me the pawn in your twisted plan? I’d be grateful you’re in this casket if it weren’t for Liam. He was the payoff for my deceit, not your dirty money; however, now I’m left with this guilt.

  “After how you treated me, I shouldn’t feel guilty that you missed out on the opportunity to meet him, but I do, and it’s only because he’s so special.

  “Maybe you would’ve provided for him and left us alone … or maybe you would’ve used your power and wealth to take him from me. I couldn’t risk it.

  “If you can hear me right now, I pray you understand the tangled web you placed me in. You left me no other choice.”

  “Excuse me, Ms.,” a male voice says from behind me. I hesitate before turning around and surveying the short, older male with a warm smile.

  The words funeral director are etched on the gold name tag over his maroon suit jacket, so I sigh with relief. “I’m sorry, dear, but I must close up. You’re welcome to return in the morning before the service begins.”

  “I apologize for keeping you here. I’m leaving now.” Without waiting for a response, I hurry from the room. Once I reach the lobby, my heels echo the sound of a tap dance on the marble floor of the quiet space. Ten more feet, and I’ll be out of this depressing joint.

  “Wait,” a different male voice demands.

  Fight, flight, or freeze…

  God, why did I freeze?

  Inhaling sharply, I pivot to face him. The man is now standing in close proximity, his narrowing gaze studying me while the memories of the night I met him pepper my mind.

  “How do you know my brother?”

  Ellis Burke … still ruggedly handsome to the point of unnerving. Tall and intimidating, causing my gaze to falter.

  “Hello. I, uh, briefly dated Tony several years ago. I only wanted a moment to say goodbye, and now I’m leaving.” I begin to turn, but he grabs my arm.

  “That’s why you look familiar, but I can’t place where we met. I’m Ellis Burke.” Easing free from his hold, I stare at the red tie beneath his distinguished grey suit.

  “We’ve never met before, so I must resemble someone else. I should be going. The roads will be freezing soon.”

  “What is your name?” His voice reverts to its original demanding tone.

  “It’s Camilla Rose.” I’m so stupid. I should’ve given him another name. Better yet, I should’ve taken my friend Christopher’s advice and not come here.

  “Are you OK? You seem nervous.” He’s on to me, and I can’t have that, so I lift my chin and brave a look at him.

  His striking eyes, a velvet blue, squint in confusion as he scrolls through the files of memories in his mind, searching for the one with my name on it. I’ve prayed to God every day for several years that he never remembers.

  “I’m not nervous. I’m–I’m in mourning and worried about the weather.”

  “Then allow me to give you a ride home.” Still scrutinizing me, he slides his fingers through the top of his light brown hair, pushing it back.

  “I would prefer to drive. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Burke.” I can’t shove through the glass doors fast enough, and once my heels hit the mixture of salt and ice on the concrete, I do an embarrassing jig to regain my footing. Thankfully, I’m blessed with great balance and coordination from all my years of dance.

  I recall the dream I had as a child of becoming a professional ballerina. That aspiration was squelched for numerous reasons, but I have other dreams, and I’ll make them come true for Liam. By the time he’s a young man, he’ll be proud of his mother.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Two Weeks Later

  Camilla

  “Thank you for watching him here. I know your parents prefer that you babysit at my apartment, but my sister relapsed in her recovery again, and she needs a place to stay.”

  Squatting down, I remove Liam’s scarf and coat. “I have to limit his exposure to Sasha when she’s like this.” He yawns, and I attempt to flatten his brown hair that’s woven with auburn strands. It has succumbed to static, leaving my kiddo looking like a miniature Einstein.

  I admire how his Batman pajamas hug his little body in the cutest way. He hasn’t lost his toddler belly yet, which makes him all that more adorable.

  “My parents are going to bed soon, so they don’t mind.” After reaching back to tighten her blond ponytail, Hailey picks Liam up and cuddles him close to her. He rests his head on her shoulder, and I wish I could stay home with him tonight so he could cuddle with me instead.
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  “Do you want to watch your Ninja Turtles movie before bedtime?” she asks. I laugh when his head shoots up and he claps.

  “We watch it now,” he says.

  “Sure, and since you’re wide awake, maybe this time you’ll make it through a whole thirty minutes of the movie before falling asleep.”

  Hailey giggles, and I hate thinking about how she’s almost finished with college and will be pursuing her career. It’s going to be difficult to find a sitter who measures up to her.

  ***

  In the parking lot of Octavia, Denver’s swankiest gentlemen’s club, I turn off the ignition of my car and hunch over. Every aspect of the sleek black building’s architecture is alluring for the affluent and dominating males.

  The word Octavia is above the front glass doors in silver, and just beneath the roof, small blue bulbs line the perimeter of the building.

  That’s it. Simple. Streamlined. Classy. Yet every time I enter or exit this fine establishment, I feel dirty, and it’s because I still have the memories of what I used to do here.

  Every male who I’ve ever encountered inside has been polite, but they don’t give a damn about my brains or heart. They want to use me, along with every other attractive employee, to satisfy their carnal appetite.

  I found that out the hard way when I met Tony, except he wanted to use my sex appeal for something more complex and dangerous.

  I can’t stall the inevitable any longer, so I lock up my car and walk toward the employee entrance at the side of the building.

  “Camilla, my cannoli girl. How are you this lovely evening?” Bruce asks after opening the door for me. Even the security guys in the back of the club wear suits, and his is becoming tight around his belly. “I saw that,” he adds with a brow cocked.

  “Saw what?”

  “I watched you looking at my gut.” He rubs a hand over his stomach. “It’s your damn fault.”

  Planting a hand on my hip, I tilt my head to the side.

  “Oh, I have to hear this.”

  “You bring me one of your homemade desserts twice a week. Times that by fifty-two weeks, and you get at least twenty extra pounds. Damn, girl. Times that by how many years?”

  I can’t help but snicker. “OK, I take full responsibility. No more desserts.”

  “Whoa, whoa, now. I didn’t say anything about cutting me off. I just don’t want you poking fun of my belly.”

  “Aww, I’m only playin’. There’s more of you for the ladies to love on, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “There you go.” His head nods in agreement. “We’re on the same page now.” Before I start toward the ladies’ dressing room, we high-five, and his hand sails over his dark curls.

  I stride down the dimly lit hallway, and once I reach my locker, I swap out my jeans and boots for my sequin silver skirt and black strappy heels.

  As soon as I stand in the uncomfortable shoes, I think about Liam again and imagine being in my pajamas, sleeping next to him in our bed. I miss the sweet kid already. Sighing, I lock up my belongings and walk over to a mirror.

  “Have at it, sweetheart,” Gracie says, holding out her makeup brush that’s been dipped in a shimmery powder. She’s sitting next to me, primping before her shift as a dancer.

  I swipe the brush over my chest and dust off the extra that has landed on my tight black top. We have a routine, Gracie and I do, and she’s the only person in this club who I will see outside of it.

  Remembering I need to get my girls out, I push them up from my bra until cleavage is spilling over it. Lastly, I tease my long auburn hair at the scalp to appear sexier, and that’s about as good as it gets.

  “Thank you. I’m off to serve drinks.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot… Matt wants to see you in his office before you hit the bar.”

  “Hmm … OK.” Striding down the hallway, I come to my boss’s door and tap on it.

  “Come in.”

  “Hi. Gracie said you wanted to see me?”

  His eyes only glance up as he hands me a paper.

  “First thing in the morning, go to this lab, and take a random drug test.”

  “Since when do you order random drug tests?”

  “I knew you weren’t going to make this easy,” he mumbles before he sits back in his chair and looks at me. “Someone called and reported that you’re on drugs, so I have to check.”

  “Seriously? Matt, you know how I feel about drug use. I even confided in you about Sasha’s addiction.”

  “Sorry, but Marianne took the call. You know she’s a snitch and will tell James if I don’t investigate. What’s the big deal? Go take it, you’ll pass, and then we can move on from whatever drama you’re obviously involved in.”

  Having a younger, arrogant boss is annoying. I just want to mess up that stiffly-styled, preppy hair of his.

  “The big deal is that someone did this to me, and I have no clue who it was.”

  “They wouldn’t give a name, and I don’t care. Just take the damn test.”

  ***

  Pulling my wool coat tighter, I cross the parking lot after my shift. At 2:00 a.m., it’s even colder than when I arrived. I love the scenery of Denver, but I’m over the Colorado winters and miss the warmth of South Carolina where I grew up.

  I can see my breath as I curse over how early I have to be at the lab for the drug screen. Add in the anger brewing over the three men who managed to cop a feel tonight, and I’m in a peach of a mood. Picking up my pace, I reach my car and shove my key in the lock.

  “Clarissa Rosenthal.”

  My real name … and that voice.

  “Now that I have your attention, turn around,” he says.

  Gradually, I shift to face him. Ellis Burke is in the backseat of a black Mercedes sedan with the window lowered. The others are tinted, so I can’t make out who’s driving.

  “I know you’re a hacker by trade, but I can’t fathom how you uncovered my real name.”

  “We need to have a discussion. Get in.”

  “I’m not getting inside your car. I’m tired and have to get a ridiculous drug test in only five hours.”

  “And if you want to pass that test, you’ll get in my car this instant.” A smug smile eases from his lips.

  “You made the call to Octavia, but why?”

  He holds up the photo I’d placed in Tony’s casket. Seeing my son’s smile leaves me gasping for breath.

  “Get in the car, Camilla, if you don’t wish to lose your child.”

  With the mention of Liam, I march to his window.

  “Don’t you threaten me, and don’t you dare mention my son. Don’t even think about him, and give me that damn photograph.”

  His smirk vanishes. “I’m not a man you want to cross. Get. In. This. Car.”

  “Fine. You have five minutes to explain what this is about.” Crossing my arms, I stomp around to the passenger side, and a driver exits the vehicle. Expressionless, he opens the door for me.

  Be stoic, Camilla.

  I tell myself that, but I’m screwed. Somehow, Ellis knows too much already. I get in the backseat, and as I sink against the leather beneath me, I inhale its scent of wealth and power. “How did you discover my identity?”

  “Hacking has made me a great detective.”

  “What do you want? And can I have my picture back?”

  “Did you, or did you not, withhold from Tony that he had a son?” He holds a hand up. “And I caution you to answer honestly. I have ways of knowing everything.”

  “I never should’ve gone to the funeral home.” My head falls back against the seat. “I only went out of guilt. I imagine like Tony, you have no idea what that emotion feels like.”

  “Answer the question, Camilla, or would you prefer I call you Clarissa?”

  “Don’t ever say that name again, and yes, I withheld the information from Tony.” Rolling my head in his direction, I prepare to face his anger.

  His fingers tug on his full lower lip as he ex
amines the photograph, so I study him while I wait. Instead of a suit tonight, he’s in khakis and a navy sport coat over a pale blue shirt.

  “That’s what I suspected. This kid looks just like a Burke.”

  I swipe the photo from his hand.

  “I obviously had good reason to hide it from him. Both of you are heartless. Now, what do you want?”

  “Your son is going to be raised as a Burke.”

  “Ha! Fat chance of that happening. I don’t want him anywhere near your diabolical family.”

  My chin is clenched by his strong fingers. He turns my head toward him and leans in. Even in the dim light, his eyes are vivid, alluring like the rest of him, and I’m pissed with myself for finding him attractive.

  My gaze shifts to the partition, and I wish the driver could hear and see this, but would he even help me?

  “Listen to me. On account of your deceit, and the circumstances you’ve created, I have terms you’re going to follow. If you don’t agree to those terms, then I will take your son away. It would be easy to do once a judge heard the details of your sordid life.

  “First, you’ll have failed your drug test, which I can have happen with a few keystrokes. On top of that, you’re a washed-up dancer turned bartender, have a strung-out sister crashing in your atrocious apartment, and well, I don’t have to explain to you the shit I could cause with a phone call to your parents.

  “I can see it in the papers now. ‘Many years later, the mystery is solved as to the disappearance of Clarissa Rosenthal and her sister, Sasha.’ ” Holding his hands up, he spreads them out. “The word ‘kidnapping’ would be in bold as the headline.”

  Tears well up in my eyes, and my lower lip quivers.

  “Tony was right; you’re evil.”

  His fingers grip my chin and press harder this time.

  “I knew he’d cause me grief from the grave. You and Tony Jr. are interruptions I don’t need, but my parents deserve to know their only grandchild.