Bastard In A Suit (Book Two) Read online

  Bastard In Suit (Book Two)

  Ivy Carter

  Favor Ford Publishing

  Contents

  Want To Be In The Know?

  Bastard In A Suit (Book Two) By Ivy Carter

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Copyright © 2017 by Favor Ford Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  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 written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design by Sara Eirew

  Created with Vellum

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  Bastard In A Suit (Book Two) By Ivy Carter

  Chapter 1

  Duke Kingston has just admitted to me that he bought my fledgling company under false pretenses—that he never intended to do anything with the MicroTracker except bury it.

  Kill it.

  Make sure that the world never sees it or knows it exists.

  It was all a lie, and now I’m stuck.

  “Asshole!”

  The word slips through my lips with a violent hiss as the depth of this betrayal hits me like a gut punch.

  Duke recoils, instant shock registering on his rugged face. His brown eyes go hard, almost black. “I suggest you gauge your next words carefully.”

  “Or what? You’ll spank me?” I fire back without thinking.

  His eyes flash. “Don’t tempt me,” he retorts.

  A delicious thrill runs up my spine, but I fight back the urge to give into my attraction to this man who I should, by all rights, hate more than I’ve ever hated another human being.

  I scroll through my memory banks, rewind conversations, look for hidden meanings, anything to signal a clue I somehow missed. There’s nothing. Not one piece of evidence that should have warned me that Duke planned to kill the project. Zilch. Certainly not when he sprawled me across his desk and buried his face between my thighs.

  I’m such a fucking idiot.

  “If you didn’t plan on doing anything with the MicroTracker, why did you even hire us?” My throat closes in around confusion and grief. “After all, any of your technicians could have developed the technology, right?”

  The vein near his temple throbs. I’m pushing buttons but I don’t care. I’m so naïve. I thought we had the start of something here. I don’t mean fairy tales and white knights, but something…real. The burn of betrayal aches in my chest. Tears sting my eyes. I tamp them back, refusing to show any more vulnerability—I’ve already given this man too much. And for what?

  “Why?” My voice cracks a little and I stiffen my spine in an effort to regain control. “I just don’t understand…”

  “The product is mine,” Duke says harshly. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

  My nostrils flare. “Because you’re the mighty Duke Kingston? In charge and above reproach no matter if it’s the boardroom or the bedroom?”

  Duke plants both hands on the desk and leans forward, flexing his arm muscles. His face hovers so close I can feel his breath. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”

  My traitorous insides turn to mush. I’m sure it’s written all over my face—the desperation, the longing. Despite everything, I still want him, and he damn well knows it. The first pin pricks of humiliation begin to crackle across my skin. Cool it Hailey. Damn it. I’m so much better than this.

  “I didn’t complain because I didn’t know—didn’t know any of this.” I bury my head in my hands and take a deep breath. What the hell am I going to tell Jake and Forrest? They’ll be devastated. Hell, I’m devastated. My heart feels like it’s about to split in half.

  Duke’s voice turns leaden with boredom. “Most would consider themselves lucky to have gotten a large cash buyout and jobs with a top-notch company. Yet here you are, acting as if I’ve just set fire to your childhood home.”

  I level him with a look of the most disgust I can muster, even though I know he’s right. “You’re not a God, Mr. Kingston. You’re selfish,” I swallow hard, working to control my emotions. My heart races so fast I’m worried it will explode. “Maybe that’s how business works. But I didn’t peg you as the type to take advantage of—“ I resist the urge to call myself a kid—“three intelligent young entrepreneurs.”

  Duke scoffs. “Your contracts were very fair, considering.” He leans up against his desk and shoves his hands in his pockets.

  The motion draws my attention to his groin and I hate that my stare lingers there. This isn’t exactly the kind of fucking over I envisioned. “If the product wasn’t worth your time, you should have sent us away.”

  He cocks his head. “And let someone else buy it? And here I thought you’d researched Kingston Industries. You know that’s not my style.”

  My breath comes out in a huff. “You’re just jealous of our innovations.”

  An arrogant smirk plays in the corner of Duke’s mouth. “You realize how ridiculous that sounds, right? That would be like a great white shark being jealous of a goldfish.”

  “A reptilian analogy would be more fitting,” I say, a little louder than I intend.

  “Careful or you’ll hurt my feelings.”

  If you had any. I manage not to fling out the insult, even though I’m reeling. An itchy sweat spreads across my back.

  I never assumed Duke and I would have an ideal partnership, not after last night. I just thought it would be…different.

  Why because he’s tasted your pussy?

  My clit throbs at the memory. Damn my perfidious body. “Give me something I can tell my partners,” I say, derailing further sexual thoughts. “Can you at least put us give us a chance to try and fix some of the flaws before you officially kill our baby?”

  Duke rubs his hand over his chin. I drag my eyes from his face and stare at the wall behind his desk. It’s peppered with framed awards, certificates, recognitions of achievement. There’s a photo of him sky diving, thumbs up, another of him behind the wheel of a race car, a couple more of him with a bunch of guys building a house. My eyes stop on the center image—Duke dressed in camouflage kneeling next to a German Shepherd. He’s certainly done more and seen more than I have in my life. Travelled the world. Experienced things I’ve only dreamed of.

  Personal feelings aside, whatever reason Duke has for burying the technology has to make sense—he didn’t become a billionaire making bad decisions.

  So why is my gut churning with the fear of lost opportunity?

  “I don’t think so,” he says, shaking his head. “The decision has already been made.”

  “We can’t just sit in that box of an office and do nothing,” I say, my voice cracking. “And I can’t tell Jake and Forrest the truth. They’ll be crushed.”

  His voice softens. “The Microtracker is dangerous, Hailey.”

  My eyes snap to his. I’m sure I’ll see amusement in them—he must be joking—but his expression remains serious. Almost somber.

  I lick my lips. “How?”

  He pushes off from the edge of the desk and walks to the bar at the other side of the room, pours himself a finger of Macallan 40-year-old scotch.

  Jesus. One bottle of that costs more than my mother’s Ford Focus.

  He holds up a glass, as if in offer, but I shake my head. My head is muddled enough wi
thout the addition of alcohol.

  “I lied to you about your product’s worth.” He swirls the amber liquid and takes a swig. I watch with a strange fascination as his throat muscles contract and the liquid worms its way down. Even after everything just said, I can’t keep my eyes off Duke.

  “Why did you lie?”

  “The truth is, I didn’t want to admit the implications of your product—and I didn’t want anyone else to have it either,” he says. “And if that makes me a bad guy, well so be it.”

  I open my mouth to speak. Close it.

  “This kind of technology…” He pauses. Sighs. “Has even greater ramifications than even I can comprehend.”

  “But dangerous?” I sink down into the chair. “Only if it got in the wrong hands.”

  Duke walks back to the desk and sets down his scotch. “A device like this would be highly sought after by the military and other covert operations the world over.”

  My veins fill with adrenaline. “Exactly! That’s the target audience I was talking about.” I spread my palms wide. “And those kinds of customers have money. Lots of money.”

  “It’s not their money I’m worried about,” he says. “It’s their motivation. The MicroTracker would eventually just become another weapon in their killing arsenals.”

  It’s true this isn’t something we’ve considered, but I’m convinced Duke is missing the real point. “It’s only a matter of time before someone else builds something similar,” I say. “Burying our product won’t make the technology go away. If we take it to market first, we can control it. Build in the safeguards that would prevent it from becoming dangerous.”

  “You’re more naïve than I thought if you actually believe any of that,” Duke snaps.

  I recoil at the harshness of his tone. “I prefer the term optimistic.”

  Duke strides to the door and opens it, clearly eager to dismiss me. “There’s no question someone will develop the technology,” he says. “But the longer it’s stalled, the better.”

  The tips of my ears go hot with anger. “Better for whom?”

  “Everyone,” he says. “The last thing Kingston Industries intends to do is usher in a new military technology that could get in the wrong hands.”

  I stand and yank my purse over my shoulder, chest heaving. My breaths turn shallow. “So what will my partners and I be doing all day?”

  “Sit around and twiddle your thumbs for all I care,” Duke says. Again, I’m stunned by the harshness of his words. The ember of rage that burns in my stomach crawls up my throat, threatening to spill over. Duke’s face remains deadpan, emotionless. “I brought you into the company to keep you quiet,” he says. “Mission accomplished. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  Realization hits me like a steamroller—I’ve totally been had.

  Every move Duke Kingston has made has been carefully crafted to mold us into doing what he wanted. Dissing the product, forcing us into a deal and signing the ironclad confidentiality agreements, even seducing me at the restaurant—and again in this very office—all part of his devious master plan. I am furious, but more than that, I’m sad and frustrated. Annoyed at myself for falling for such an obvious dupe.

  Fuck this.

  And fuck him.

  I storm toward the door, my high heels clicking heavily against the floor, and pause to stare right into his large, liquid eyes. He doesn’t blink, doesn’t move one single muscle. His lips press together in a firm line.

  Duke Kingston doesn’t give a shit what I think—so why should I care what he thinks about me?

  “I was too polite earlier,” I say, working hard to mask the tremble in my voice. “You’re worse than a snake. You’re a fucking rat.”

  Chapter 2

  I take gulping breaths and stagger through the maze of cubicles on the third floor. The sense of betrayal weighs heavy on my chest. In the restroom, I splash my face with cool water. My eyes are blotchy and swollen, my cheeks flush. A rash creeps up the side of my neck.

  I dig into my bag until I find my compact. I apply powder along my neck, deadening the redness—but it does nothing to quench my anger. I stare at the white ghost of my reflection. Too much powder. I yank off a piece of paper towel and madly swipe at my skin.

  Breathe, Hailey.

  Think.

  I inhale and hold the breath, allowing it to center me.

  Jake isn’t the most observant man in the world, but Forrest will take one look at me and know something is wrong.

  What the hell am I going to say?

  I’ll just have to be honest. Tell him I negotiated us into the worst deal ever.

  I straighten my spine and stride to our shared office, avoiding eye contact with the other—real—employees at Kingston Industries as I go, carefully holding my emotions in check. But as soon as I step into our office, the tight knot in my chest slides downward, creating a flutter around my heart, and a stream of fresh tears.

  Forrest looks up from his laptop. “Hailey?”

  I slump on the couch and sob, my throat growing raw under the release of hurt and anger. It’s more than Duke’s indifference to the MicroTracker, I’m mortified at my uncharacteristic behavior, for letting him get under my skin—and under my skirt. My shoulders rise and fall.

  Forrest scrambles to my side and rests his firm hand on my back. “What the hell happened?”

  I glance up at him through hooded lashes. “Mr. Kingston doesn’t plan to do anything with the MicroTracker. The project’s dead. Buried.”

  Forrest’s forehead creases. “You mean he’s just going to let the technology fade away?”

  I nod, face tight with dried tears. “Yep. Until someone else comes along and does it anyway.”

  “But we still have jobs, right?”

  I snag a piece of tissue from the dispenser on the coffee table and dab at my eyes. “I guess so. As long as you’re fine with getting paid to troll the internet.”

  Forrest shrugs. “Whatever. Still getting a paycheck.”

  “And that’s all that matters?”

  The project that has consumed three years of our lives is…dead. Finished. How can Forrest be okay with that? Not to mention that now we’re stuck working for a tyrant who will stoop to any level for control. Even if it means fucking over his employees. Literally. Oh, God. Mortification nestles deep in my bones. I want to shrivel into the couch and forget I ever laid eyes on Duke Kingston.

  I can’t even look at Forrest.

  “We made money, Hailey.” He squeezes my arm with reassurance. “Good money. So what if we sit around the next three years chatting on forums and watching cat videos on YouTube? We’re still making bank, and when the contract’s done, we move on to greener pastures.”

  I scoff. “That’s not enough for me. And frankly, I’m surprised it is for you.”

  “Relax,” Forrest says. “No need to get so worked up over this. Kingston Industries bought the product. It’s Duke’s baby now. Let him trash it if he wants. Jake will say the same thing, you’ll see.”

  “I’m not convinced,” I say, voice as flat as a dial tone. I glance across the room at Jake’s empty work station, then at the clock. It’s not even noon. “Jake take an early lunch?”

  “He got in an argument with Marissa over the phone,” Forrest says, with a heavy sigh. “It was pretty heated, so I left the room. He was gone went I got back.”

  I dig my cell out of my purse and dial Jake’s number. It goes straight to voicemail. “Damn it.”

  I gather my purse and stand. “I’m going for a bite to eat. Clear my head a little.”

  Which isn’t entirely the truth. Downstairs, I hail a cab and ask the driver to take me to Jake’s apartment. Maybe Forrest is content to sit on his ass for $100,000 a year, but that’s not the kind of work ethic my father instilled in me. With Jake’s support, I plan to find a way to get us out of our contract with Kingston Industries so we’re free to develop a product better than the MicroTracker, a product Duke’s competitors will salivate o
ver.

  And that will be the sweetest revenge against the betrayal that sticks to the roof of my mouth like natural peanut butter.

  Sure, the plan sounds great, but when I get to Jake’s house, he isn’t home, which takes some of the motivational wind out of my sails. I try his cell again. Still no answer. I type in Marissa’s number, then decide against calling.

  Not knowing exactly what the situation is with the two of them, I decide that discretion is the better part of valor for the moment.

  I consider calling my father, but I’m not yet ready to admit defeat. He’d advise me to keep quiet, go to work, get paid. That’s not enough for me. I didn’t bust ass at college to take some token position at Kingston Industries.

  I hop on the bus and hit up the Cook County Law Library. Cool air nips at my skin as I walk from the station and into the warmth of the building where the musky scent of paper and ink assaults. I scroll through the shelves looking for a business law reference guide of some kind. My stomach churns with unease. Sweat beads between my shoulder blades thanks to bright fluorescent overheads that feel like spotlights on my skin. I’m hot, clammy, and increasingly growing frustrated as I flip through the books, each reminding me of my inadequacies—I’m no lawyer.

  I sound out words that require a different kind of degree to decipher. Use Google to supplement what isn’t in stock. I still don’t understand my rights or whether there’s a loophole in Duke’s contracts.

  The swell of anger I’d worked to quell begins to rise again. Damn Duke for putting us in the position. And damn me for allowing it. I slam the book shut with a curse. Screw it. If these resources can’t help me, I’ll go straight to the source. I’ll pull on my big girl panties and confront Duke, and demand that he release us from our contract.

  At this point, what do I have to lose?

  Chapter 3