Undeniably Convenient (Boston's Irresistible Billionaires Book 1), page 29
“To make it look authentic, that can be pretty difficult unless the person who is doing this reenacts the original image precisely, but far from impossible if someone has the right software.”
“These aren’t even the actual photographs. They’re photocopies of photographs.”
“Even easier,” he says. “You can alter an image and print it out to look like a photo. But again, the person doing all of this would have to make the body swap almost identical to the original. What’s going on?”
A weird, demented, almost psychotically giddy laugh chokes out of me and now the tears do start coming. “I need a favor. It’s a big one.”
“Anything. You know that.”
“It’s asking you to do something you shouldn’t.”
“Just tell me, Kit-Kat, and I’ll do it. Let me worry about the rest.”
God, I love my family. “I need you to run absolutely everything on a Cayden Craw. I want you to go as deep and dark and dirty as you can. I don’t care how you do it, and I won’t ever ask. I want every speck of dirt on the motherfucker you can find. He’s made what I think are bullshit photos of Bennett with another woman to hurt me. More than that, he threatened me, Van. He said he’s been following me and if I hadn’t pointed out the security cameras in the corner…” I trail off on a heavy gulp.
Vander is silent for a very long moment, and I fling my legs out in front of me, folding myself in half and pressing my forehead to my knees. I hate putting Vander in this position. His father never intended to teach him how to hack, but that didn’t last long. But when Vander got arrested in college during a hacking war with another top school, Lenox made him swear he’d stop. To Vander, that meant only doing clean hacks, and this is anything but.
“Can you just do this for me, Van? I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it. I need to find a reason to get rid of this guy once and for all. I’ll go to the police regardless, but I want more than just a threat to get him by. But if it’s too risky—”
The door to the pool area opens again and Bennett comes walking in, searching around for me, and when he sees me sitting on the ground, bent in half with the phone pressed to my ear and the pictures surrounding me, his expression crumples, all the color draining from his face, and his expression growing desperate.
“Katy, those aren’t real,” he says, running over to me and collapsing on his knees beside me. He takes my arm, squeezing it, almost as if he’s afraid I’m going to shirk him off or run. “You have to listen to me,” he implores, his voice shaky and his speech rapid. “Please hear my words. I never had sex with that woman. I swear. I’ve never seen her before in my life. Those images are fabricated.”
“I know.”
“No. You don’t understand. Katy, please. I’m telling you. However these photos came to be, that isn’t me. I mean, it’s me, but it has to be photoshopped or something. I never in my life had sex with that woman. I don’t even know who she is or where those pictures were taken, but they’ve been altered somehow to have me on them.”
“Bennett, I know. I believe you. I realized that before you even got here.”
He falls back on his haunches, staring at me as if he’s never seen me before. His hand covers his heart, and then he falls forward, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tighter than he ever has. “Thank God.” He pants out one breath after the other. “Thank you for believing me. Thank you for trusting me. God, Katy. I’ve been going out of my mind since I saw them and when you didn’t call me back, I left work and ran straight here.” He pulls back and cups my face, his eyes glassy. “I love you. I’d never cheat. It’s what I told you last night. You’re the only one I’ll ever want.”
I drag his lips to mine and kiss him. My phone clangs on the ground, and I jolt back. “Oh. Vander is on the phone.”
Bennett’s eyebrows fold in. “Why is Vander on the phone? You called him and not me?”
He looks impossibly hurt. “Uh. Well. Um.”
“You can tell him, Katy,” I hear Vander shout. “In fact, put me on speaker. I have some questions for both of you.”
I put Vander on speakerphone, and Bennett tells him and me everything about his conversation with Liz, followed by his boss this morning. Vander asks him some questions, things I don’t fully understand, until he says, “Okay, I’m in.” In the background, I hear the click of the keys, and my insides shrink a bit. “I’ll get back to you,” he says and then disconnects the call.
Chapter Thirty
It didn’t take Vander very long. Within twenty minutes, he called us back and told us we needed to go to the police station and file a report. Cayden has been stalking both of us like crazy for months and has done research into which ingested poisons, chemicals, and foods could kill a fetus. Lovely.
We couldn’t give the police everything because that would incriminate Vander. But we have video of him following me to the pool this morning and lurking around the building, as well as footage from Bennett’s doorbell and back door cameras that show him across the street and sneaking around the house on several different occasions. We also gained access to hospital video after Bennett made a request, and he’s followed Bennett and me several times in the last couple of months.
His obsession with Bennett is off the charts.
By the time we left the police station and let them know about the way he threatened me and how we feared for our safety, especially since I’m pregnant, we had a restraining order against him, and they had a warrant for Cayden’s arrest. Bennett and I were assured that stalking is considered a crime in all fifty states and Massachusetts takes it very seriously. And because of our accusation of stalking and the fact that we did show them some physical evidence that he’s fabricated photographs and tracked Bennett using his phone, they will confiscate Cayden’s computer, phone, and other devices, which will lead them to the things Vander found.
It was a relief, but when I went to work that night, I was still feeling unsettled about it. So was Bennett, who was even more overprotective than usual. He drove me in and picked me up and had security escort me in and out of the hospital.
At least it didn’t take very long to get Cayden.
Not even two days later, we got a call from the officer who took our report to inform us that Cayden had been arrested trying to break into Bennett’s house—thankfully we were both at work at the time. The raid on Cayden’s apartment revealed terrifying results. Weapons and video equipment and poisons. He was living a block from us. One block. We had no idea how close he was to us all that time. How deep his fixation went.
Bennett was more than just a little shaken up. After all, Cayden had been his supposed best friend for two decades and his roommate for all four years of college.
It’s horrifying to think how close we came to his wrath and how lucky we were that this ended before he turned as violent as it seemed he was getting.
It got better for us from there, as two months after that, the DA informed us that Cayden made a plea deal and will be serving up to five years in prison with a chance for parole after three.
Now, with all that bullshit behind us, we’ve been able to focus on us, on his mom, and on the pregnancy.
These last couple of months have flown by.
I had my fellowship interview, and it went well. At least I think it did. Bennett was no help with that as he’s sworn to secrecy and would not speak to me at all about the fellowship process. It’s annoying and it sucks, but I understand his position on it, and I won’t risk his job. Still, I won’t find out until early next month.
Cricket has been a non-issue. She keeps her distance from me, and I do the same with her. I did wish her luck when I left my interview as hers immediately followed mine. She said thanks, and that was that.
Same with Zane.
Word about what Cayden did to me spread pretty quickly, and he came to check on me since he thought Cayden was my boyfriend. I told him I was with Bennett and that we were in love, and once we announced my pregnancy, I haven’t seen or heard from him since. I’ve had offers to interview for fellowships from eight different hospitals, one of them in Boston, and I interviewed at five of them. A girl has to have a backup plan. Still, if I don’t get this hospital, I’ll be crushed beyond all measure.
For now, I’m not thinking about it. Well, doing my best not to think about it.
“This is a joke, right?” I ask Layla as I try to squeeze into the tight dress she brought into the dressing area for me.
“What? Why? What’s wrong with it?” She blinks her pretty blue eyes at me, all innocent-like when Layla Fritz-Barrows is anything but.
“Layla! My boobs are everywhere because they’re freaking pregnancy huge, and my belly is like front and center. Not to mention this dress is short. Like, if I bend even a little, not only will my ass get a blast of icy February air, but I’ll be flashing everyone my naughty girl from the wrong angle if you know what I mean.”
Keegan chews on a Twizzler—her favorite—and snorts, making herself nearly choke. “No one knows what you mean. And you look hot. It’s Valentine’s Day. You’re supposed to get all fancy when you have someone to do that for.”
“Right.” Layla points to Keegan. “What she said. Besides, if I had your boobage, I’d totally rock that. Pregnancy tits are sexy.”
“Plus, the belly is too,” Kenna agrees.
Wren tilts her head, studying me. “If you wear it with Docs, it might be kind of badass.”
“I second that one,” her mom, Grace says. I’ve gathered a girl squad for this. One mention of a hot Valentine’s Day date and they all came running. I have Layla, Wren’s mom, Grace, Kenna and Keegan’s mom, Amelia, and Tinsley and her mom, Fallon, here. We’ve taken over my aunt Aurelia’s—who owns a fashion house under the name of Lia Sage—design studio.
“If you don’t like that one, I have three more for you to try on,” Aurelia offers, examining the outfit with a critical, designer’s eye. “Though I do have to say, the lines fit you perfectly, and I’m inclined to agree about the boobage.”
“Ugh.” I adjust the black velvet thing that calls itself a dress and turn back to the three-sided mirror in the changing area. “Why am I doing this again? I hate Valentine’s Day.”
“You’re just worried Bennett’s going to propose,” Layla teases, and I freeze, as does everyone else.
I slowly spin back around, my eyes wider than a full moon. “The fuck did you just say?”
Layla blinks back at us, stunned by our reactions. “What? Like none of you thought about that. The dude literally told her he wants to take her somewhere romantic tonight for dinner.”
“Uh, yeah,” Amelia agrees, twirling a lock of her red hair. “I totally thought that too.”
“Yep,” Grace chimes in as she bites the head off a gummy worm. “But I’ll be honest, if he proposes to you tonight, that’s a bit cliché.”
“Mom!” Wren protests. “You can’t say that. What if he does?”
“He’s not going to,” Fallon states adamantly, always levelheaded and the voice of reason. “That’s too predictable, and I get the impression Bennett likes to keep you on your toes.”
“But maybe he’s going to propose for that very reason. He doesn’t think she’ll think he’s that conventional, so he’ll throw her off her game by actually proposing.”
“Layla!” I screech. “Do you know something I don’t?”
Her hands fly up. “No, I swear.”
I shake my head. “No one is proposing tonight. I won’t be that pregnant girl. I love Bennett, but I don’t need him to marry me, and certainly not because I’m pregnant.”
“Slay, queen!” they all shout, raising their glasses of champagne—which is just cruel, if you ask me—and clinking them. They’re already eating all kinds of candy I can’t. I appreciate the solidarity, but candy and champagne around the pregnant diabetic girl. Really?
“Okay,” Aurelia calls out, snapping all the drunk and sugared-up women back to task. “Next dress. Try on the pink one.”
I snort as I pull off the black one and wiggle into the pink one. “Do you think if I put this on, Bennett will know it’s a girl?”
Keegan shoots to her feet so fast she nearly topples over. “You told us you didn’t know.”
I give her a sly grin in the reflection of the mirror. “I might have lied.”
“Are you freaking kidding me?!” Layla and Kenna shout.
“You’re having a girl, and you didn’t tell us?!” Layla finishes indignantly.
“Or Bennett?” Fallon chimes in.
“Slow your roll. I’m just kidding. Well, sort of. I am having a girl, but I only just found out this afternoon,” I admit, adjusting the pink one and twisting this way and that until it’s fully on. The drapey silk neckline gives a hint of cleavage without revealing too much, and the bodice hugs the curve of my belly so perfectly I actually sigh when I see it. So does everyone else. “I went in for more blood work and the tech asked me how my girl is treating me. It must be in my chart from my genetic screening, but we asked not to be told during our ultrasounds.”
Everyone is silent, and when I turn back around, they’re all the spitting image of that soft, smiling, misty-eyed emoji.
“We’re having a girl?” Keegan wails. “I’m so happy it’s a girl. I’m having a niece.”
Instantly I’m surrounded, getting hugs and belly rubs from all sides. It’s the best. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of when I first imagined getting pregnant. My baby is going to be surrounded by love. By women and men who adore her.
And naturally, because I’m pregnant and a hormonal mess, I start to sob. Then again, who am I kidding? I would have been sobbing anyway.
We all decide on the pink dress paired with some awesome sparkly heels. The girls work on my hair and makeup, and by the time I leave Aurelia’s studio, I’m more of a goddess than I typically am. Layla drives me across town to the address Bennett gave her, and when I arrive, it’s…
“A hotel?”
She shrugs. Smiles. “Have a great night.”
I roll my eyes but lean across the console of her car to hug her. “You totally know stuff.”
“I know nothing, Jon Snow. For real, I love you and I’m so excited we’re having a girl.”
“Me too. Don’t tell Uncle Cal yet, okay?” I pull back. “I want to tell him tomorrow at family dinner.” That’s something we’ve started doing. On Sundays, we have dinner with Paula, Callan, and Layla. I swallow thickly, starting to get emotional once again. “I don’t remember a lot about my parents,” I start, staring down at my hands. “But I want to name the baby Willow after my mom. What do you think?”
She lifts my chin with her hand. “I think that’s beautiful. I never met your parents, but as a mom speaking to a future mom, I know she’s so fucking proud of you, Katy. You’ve become an incredible woman. A brilliant doctor. And you’re going to make the best mom. Just like yours was.”
“Just like you are too,” I sob, because even though I opened this can of worms, I didn’t think she’d take this to the next level like that.
We hug again and I wipe beneath my eyes until they’re smudge-free, and then I climb out of her SUV, heading into the hotel lobby. A doorman whisks me into an elevator and then shoots me up twelve floors to the rooftop that’s glowing with twinkling fairy lights and candles. Bennett is standing right before the doors, wearing a goddamn charcoal gray suit with a white shirt and a black tie.
His eyes bulge when he sees me, and for a moment, he doesn’t do anything other than take me in line by line, unhurried in his perusal, his gaze growing more heated with every passing second. Finally, once his eyes meet mine, he gives me a wicked grin and adjusts the bulge in his pants.
So crude but wickedly hot.
He steps forward and takes my hand, pulling me into his hard chest. “God, you’re stunning.” His hand runs over my bump, feeling our baby, who never fails to give him a kick whenever he touches her or speaks to her.
Speaking of… “I have something I have to tell you.”
“Excellent. Tell me over dinner.” He plants a kiss on my lipstick-lined lips and then walks me into the glowing room. There’s a table set up in the center, complete with white linens, a vase filled with red roses, and beautiful china and crystal.
“What on earth are we doing here?” I can’t help but ask with a laugh. This isn’t us. We’re not fancy. Yes, I love my dresses and cute shoes, but we don’t typically do fancy restaurants. We—and by we, I mean him—try to cook as often as we can, and if we go out, it’s someplace casual.
This hotel is a downtown swanky affair overlooking the Public Gardens, and he’s rented out the entire rooftop.
“We’re here because it’s stupid Valentine’s Day.” He kisses my lips and helps me into my chair. “And because you never let me spoil you the way I’d like, this was an opportunity to woo you over a lavish, romantic dinner and then fuck you like a man obsessed down one level in the presidential suite I reserved for us for the night.”
I flush and immediately take a sip of my water. In addition to far too many emotions, I am, simply put, a horny bitch. My orgasms are many and intense and so fucking splendid, I legit wake Bennett up in the middle of the night by sitting on his face. He’s a good sport about waking up to a pussy suffocating him, but I can’t help it. Sometimes it’s like I need an orgasm and I need it now, and he’s so good at delivering them.
“You had me at fucking me like a man obsessed.”
He winks at me. “I thought I would.” The waiter comes over and refills my water and then gives me some bubbly pink concoction. I throw Bennett an eyebrow that the waiter must pick up on, because he says, “It’s a mocktail, miss.”
“Thank you.” I take a sip, and it’s delicious.
He hands us both our menus and then gives us a minute while promising to return shortly with bread. Thank God! My blood sugars have been in decent control, and since this is a special night, I intend to eat all the bread. My endocrinologist didn’t put me on a pump, though we did strongly consider it. Instead, he has me on a tight leash with shots, and I send him my glucose levels every three days.
