here? You make me come and then take over my business?” Brett shot a quick look at Alex, who raised an eyebrow, trying to hide his smile. He didn’t try that hard. His friend was clearly enjoying the show.
Brett reached out to pick up the phone receiver, to allow them a little privacy, but Alex swatted his hand away from it. He wanted to keep listening. “It’s just business, Rebecca,” Brett said. “It’s not personal. It’s a strategic move for our own company. This sort of thing isn’t unheard of.” He stood, unsure of why he was putting space between him and her voice on the intercom.
“This is plenty personal,” she said, her voice cold. “But you know what, don’t bother explaining any further. You should hear this, though. There is no way in hell you’ll get your fingers on any part of my father’s company, or me, again. Have a nice day,” she said before the phone call disconnected.
“Well,” Alex said with a smirk. “She certainly hates your guts. Interesting.” He sat back, suddenly serious. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really behind this takeover? There is some personal shit here, isn’t there?”
Brett returned to his desk and sat down. He clenched his fists and hoped that Alex didn’t see the tremble in them. He was angry. Angry she still had the power to affect him, like she had years earlier. Sure, the past few months had been interesting—invigorating even—to have his former rival back in town pushing his buttons. But if their encounter the other night had told him anything, it was that she was a distraction big enough to throw him off course—and Brett had come too far and worked too hard to let that happen. He’d created a life for himself around specific things: his work, his business goals with The Brotherhood, staying fit, keeping up with his parents... There was no room for anything else. Certainly not for Rebecca Daniels, one of the few people who made him feel vulnerable and exposed—or at least she had once in college. He couldn’t let it happen a second time. “There’s nothing to tell,” he told his friend.
“And what about that part about making her come?”
“Would you believe me if I called it female hysterics?”
Alex guffawed. “I definitely would not.”
Brett sighed and sat back in his chair. “Okay, we had a bit of a moment at the party the other night. But business has nothing to do with that. Sure, the idea of a takeover occurred to me somewhat spontaneously. The plan started forming in my head when she left. But I know what I’m doing here. It’s business as usual, regardless of anything that Rebecca and I had.”
Alex looked unconvinced. “Jesus Christ, man. We’ve initiated a multimillion-dollar takeover to get back at a girl you used to hook up with in college? Who just happens to be sitting at the CEO’s desk?”
“That’s not it.”
“Then tell me, what is it? Do you want to start seeing her again? Because if you do, this is one hell of a way to get her attention.”
Brett’s blood burned in his veins. White-hot. “No. I’m definitely not looking to start seeing her.” Although he did extend an invitation for her to visit him at the club. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he was looking forward to seeing her there.
Brett was a man who didn’t deal in feelings. And as anger, ambition and desire all raged within him, he had no idea which would be victorious. He just knew that her appearance threw something inside him completely off-kilter and he needed her gone again. If there was nothing keeping her in Vegas, she would surely leave. Getting rid of Daniels International would send her packing back to New York or anywhere else. He didn’t really care.
Using every ounce of strength, he reined in his emotions, holding them back with a firm hand. “The timing looks suspicious, I know. But I’ve had my eye on this type of thing for a while,” Brett lied easily to his friend, something he’d never done before. “This move is what’s right for us, and you know it. It’s part of our overall vision for The Brotherhood.”
Alex stood and faced him, challenging. His friend was a strong, imposing man, and he had a slight height advantage over Brett. “I just want all the information, before you put our business and our names—and The Brotherhood—on the line.”
“You have nothing to worry about. I know what I’m doing.”
REBECCA SLAMMED DOWN the phone. “That shady motherfucker,” Rebecca said to her empty office, trying her damnedest to bite back a frustrated scream. She gripped the edges of her desk. If she possessed the physical strength, she would have flipped the heavy oak behemoth over on its side.
Her frustration built and she took deep breaths to stop the shaking in her hands. But it wasn’t successful. She thought about her father and the business he’d built and how she couldn’t let it fall under the command of Brett Collins. She thought about all of the power and influence Brett had in the city. With what Brett was offering the shareholders for their shares, she wondered how many would stick with DI. It was a near-hopeless situation. But it was up to her to save the company. She was on her own on this one.
“I could see him again,” she told herself. “Try to appeal to him.” And if she couldn’t talk him out of it altogether, she would let him know that she wasn’t going to take it lying down. If that didn’t work, at least, she could hope to get a little dirt on him and his friends. Rebecca wasn’t into blackmail, but she wasn’t afraid to play dirty if she needed to.
* * *
Hours later, Rebecca found herself on the sidewalk in front of Di Terrestres. The exterior of the club was unassuming enough, just like many other buildings located in Las Vegas’s downtown financial district. It was located at the bottom floor of their office high-rise, which housed Collins/Fischer along with many other businesses. The sleek gold letters emblazoned on the sign bearing its name weren’t out of place in this neighborhood, but the burly bouncers guarding the door in black suits may have been a giveaway. There was a small line of people looking for admittance, and one by one they were afforded entrance. She’d heard about the club, but a Google search had provided only vague information at best. She’d surmised it was exclusive, intimate even, and she figured that if there was anywhere she would find Brett after hours, it’d be here.
Rebecca frowned, glancing up at the tall building once more. As she approached the lineup, she eyed the doormen, who consulted their lists on the tablets in their hands. Brett had told her to come by, but she was certain she wasn’t on whatever list they had in front of them now.
The key was to act like she was.
She straightened her shoulders and strolled to the door, bypassing the small lineup, ignoring the annoyed stares of the people she passed. She smiled at a doorman, but he barely looked at her as she approached. “Name?” His voice boomed. He was huge and had a no-nonsense demeanor.
“I’m here to see Brett,” she said, not breaking eye contact. “He invited me.”
“Name?”
She sighed, feigning impatience. “Rebecca Daniels. If you could just tell him I’m here—”
“You can go right on in, Ms. Daniels,” he told her, looking up at her, now smiling.
She tried to stop the surprise from showing. “Really?”
“Rebecca Daniels.” He gestured to the screen. “You’re on the list. Go right on inside. You’ll find Mr. Collins in there.”
She schooled her features, not letting her disbelief that it had worked show. “Thank you,” she told him, sauntering past, confident as any woman would be to meet a man at his exclusive club.
From the foyer, Rebecca passed through two huge lush black curtains and found herself in the luxurious environs of Di Terrestres. Her eyes widened, impressed. It was dark but not too dark. The walls were covered with more black curtains, and modern chandeliers