Page 103 of Controlled

“Good to hear.” I wasn’t in the mood to kill the reporter at this point anyway.

“The police are standing by as well.”

“You have wonderful connections, my friend,” I told him.

He laughed from the front seat. “It pays to play golf, Creed. That’s something you should keep in mind.”

The driver had been instructed to pull into the underground garage of the high-rise building. As soon as the driver rolled under the concrete entrance, I reached out, taking her hand into mine.

For the first time since learning of the news, I heard a shimmer in her voice. “I’m worried.”

“Don’t be,” I told her. “This is just business. Nothing else.”

“I know. So you’ve told me. I was thinking. I’d like to accept your offer.”

“Which one is that?”

She tipped her head, gazing at me intently. “I’d love to be the director of the art center. But we need to select a name.”

I grinned almost like a kid, happier than I could explain to her. “We’ll do that after this business is complete. Deal?”

“Deal.”

The driver let the three of us off in front of the underground elevator. I took her hand, leading her toward the steel box. Once inside, I leaned over, whispering in her ear, “Elevators will always be my favorite place to fuck.”

She giggled for the first time in three days, elbowing my gut.

We remained quiet the rest of the way as the elevator powered its way up to the top floor. When the ping could be heard, she sucked in her breath and adjusted her wide-brimmed hat, which matched the red suit perfectly.

I led us down the short corridor, opening the door and immediately heading toward the man’s office.

Yes, the receptionist did her best to stop us, but it was a frail attempt at best. Once outside the man’s office, I gave my perfect dancer a look, our plans of how we’d handle this predetermined. When I opened the door, heading inside without knocking, Walter on my heel, I garnered the surprise I’d hoped to find.

“What the fuck is the meaning of this?” The attorney appeared shaken while the man sitting opposite him had yet to fully stand.

“Alexander Scott. It’s been a long time,” Walter said.

“Walter. What are you doing here?” Alexander was none too happy to see the man and obviously recognized me from my dazzling photographs a few nights before.

I stood a few feet away, allowing Walter to handle the initial shock factor. Why not? He’d done a lion’s share of the investigative work after all.

“I’ve come to serve you with an injunction.” Walter’s answer was concise.

“For what?”

“You’ll see.”

I could barely contain myself and already sensed that my lovely dancer was getting antsy.

Alexander took the injunction, spending almost three minutes looking it over. His client had just been prevented from locking down the funds or entering into my business without Bella’s agreement. I could swear his face lost all its color. Finally, he glanced at his client then back to Walter before settling his angry gaze at my face.

His client finally reacted, snatching the paperwork from his attorney’s hand, hissing as he flipped from one page to the other. “What the fuck is the meaning of this? You’re behind this, Creed?”

The asshole spoke my name as if he knew me, which he didn’t. Except for his attempts to have me killed along with someone he utterly despised. I glared at Giovanni for a few seconds, allowing the information to sink in. He looked remarkably like his father, but I sensed the man was even more volatile than Armand had been.

“I’m the only fucking living relative my father had. This is bullshit.”

“Sadly, bullshit isn’t the word since you had your own father murdered to claim his legacy.” I issued the words casually.