Page 18 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)

Chapter Five

Late afternoon two days later

Elle’s Delicacies, Texas Towers

Elle

“I need to get out of here for a while, Carlos,” Elle said with finality as she stacked the confectionery boxes and picked them up. “I’ll do the delivery.”

“The Bower Group is all the way in St. George’s Place, Elle,” he protested. “It’ll be dark by the time you head back.”

“I know, but I also need to drop off the paint I bought to redo the bakery. The paint shop was kind enough to agree to a full refund, even though I bought it over a month ago.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been driving around with gallons of pink and silver paint in your SUV?” Mia frowned as she shook her head in a motherly reprimand, even though she was five years younger than Elle. “What if the cans fall over and spill all over your car?”

“I keep meaning to return it to the shop, but there’s always something.” She winked at her. “It’s not too far from Bower’s building, which is why I want to go. It has to be today before they change their mind about returning the paint.”

It was a lie, but she wasn’t about to admit the real reason for wanting to escape the bakery. Every time the bell rang, she remembered the kiss and felt a phantom caress of Drake Gould’s lips on hers that sparked a flash of heat deep inside her core.

She had been fighting the gravitational pull to pick up the phone and make the call. Not because she was curious about the supposed proposal he had dangled in front of her but because she had an innate need to hear his deep voice.

“It sucks that your bakery is closing, Elle.” She was about to get into the SUV when the words drew her attention.

Turning, she grimaced at the owner of Le Chic Bistro.

The restaurant might have tanked her sales, but Rowan Noel was a very nice man.

“I know we’re not the best of friends, and knowing you lost customers because of us truly made me feel bad, but Elle’s Delicacies has always been and will always be an iconic store in this building.

Why the Double D insisted it should be closed is a mystery since you have been a star tenant, from what I’ve been told. ”

Elle turned to stone. “Double D insisted?” Her eyes narrowed. “What other businesses are evicted?”

“As far as I know, none. As a matter of fact, none of the existing tenants inside the building have been given eviction notices. We’ve all discussed this and lodged a complaint on your behalf with Tower legals.

” He shrugged. “Not that it would matter since they now work for Double D, but it was worth a shot.”

“Thank you, Rowan.” Tears formed in her eyes at the effort they had made to intervene. “And for telling me about it. I was made to believe that numerous eviction notices went out.”

“I suppose a bakery doesn’t fit with the Double D’s billionaire image,” Rowan said with a grimace. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know we have your back.”

Elle’s hands trembled on the steering wheel as she pulled away from Texas Tower. The truth shattered her world. Her shop, her dream, was the only one being shut down. Everyone else would continue on while Elle’s Delicacies faded into memory.

“How could they?” she whispered hoarsely. Her chest tightened as waves of betrayal crashed through her. Liam had known and had blatantly lied in her face about clearing ‘floor space’.

She blinked back tears. The familiar whispers of self-doubt crept in, the same ones that had haunted her since childhood. Not good enough. Never good enough.

Her foster mother’s voice taunted her mind. “A real businesswoman would have seen this coming.”

The steering wheel bore the brunt of her anger as she gripped it harder. Seven years of early mornings, late nights, and endless sacrifices. All gone. Mia and Carlos would lose their jobs because she hadn’t been smart and strong enough to save the business.

“I promised them,” she choked out. “I promised I’d take care of them.”

Elle stopped at a red traffic light and rested her head against the steering wheel. The facade of the strong, capable business owner crumbled, leaving only the frightened girl who still couldn’t measure up.

“I’m not going to the hardware store now,” Elle mumbled as she drove away from her last delivery. Despondency had morphed into pure rage and now burned through her veins like wildfire.

“Those manipulative bastards!” She slammed her hand against the steering wheel. “The chance meeting, the eviction, then hinting at a supposed proposal? Like I’m some damsel they can buy out?” Her lips curled into a snarl. “Fucking billionaires!”

Traffic crawled due to roadworks, and by nine, she found herself passing Williams Tower. The massive Double D Acquisitions logo blazing against the night sky taunted her with its golden glow.

“Look at that.” She sneered at the towering display of wealth. “Because a normal sign isn’t enough for the mighty Drake and Damian.” Her gaze drifted to their prized helicopter, perched on the helipad like a pampered pet. “Had to get matching toys too, didn’t you, boys?”

The paint cans in the trunk seemed to whisper possibilities. A reckless gleam lit her eyes as common sense took a backseat to vengeance. She wheeled the SUV around the corner, parking in the shadows near the helipad.

“No security?” Elle scoffed as she gathered her weapons of choice—pink and silver paint. “Guess they think their precious toy is too obvious to steal. Well, Double D Duo, let’s see how you like a little bakery makeover.”

The darkness wrapped around her like a cloak as she crept toward the helicopter. Only scattered spotlights pierced the gloom, creating the perfect canvas for her midnight art show.

“Time for some sweet revenge,” she muttered, shaking the first can. Pink paint streaked across the helipad in bold slashes. “Here’s a cronut for you, Drake!” She painted a massive pastry near the landing gear. “And a Danish for Damian… extra icing, just like your ego!”

Each stroke fueled her satisfaction. Silver swirls became éclairs, and pink splashes transformed into cupcakes.

“Welcome to Elle’s Delicacies: Sky-High Edition!” She giggled manically as she decorated the helicopter’s tail with a giant pink donut and silver sprinkles. “Sorry, boys, but this is what happens when you push a baker too far!”

Six empty cans later, the helipad resembled a baker’s fever dream. Elle stepped back to admire her handiwork, only to look around at the dark surroundings as pride and rebellion warred with the first hints of unease.

“Freeze! Put down that paint can, madam.”

The metal can clattered against the tarmac as Elle’s fingers went slack. She raised her hands slowly, all too aware of the pink paint dripping from her fingers.

“Turn around.” The guard’s voice held no room for argument.

Elle pivoted, squinting against the harsh beam of multiple flashlights. Three security guards stood in formation, and she could make out their stern faces beneath the glow of the spotlights.

“I can e-explain,” she started, but her voice faltered. What could she possibly say? Sorry, I turned your multi-million-dollar helicopter into a giant pastry display?

“Ma’am, you’ll need to come with us.” The lead guard stepped forward. Elle’s breath stuttered as she noticed the glint of handcuffs. “Vandalism of private property is a serious offense.”

“Wait!” Panic clawed at her throat. “You don’t understand?—”

“Oh, I think we understand perfectly.” A deep, familiar voice cut through the night air.

Elle’s stomach dropped as Drake Gould emerged from the shadows.

His polished appearance was at odds with the colorful display.

His eyes raked over the decorated helipad and helicopter before settling on her paint-covered form.

“Creative expression, Miss Fitzgerald?” Damian mocked as he, too, appeared, looking equally imposing as he surveyed her artwork. “Though I must say, the cronuts are a bit lopsided.”

Elle straightened her spine and tilted her chin higher. “Well, if there was proper lighting, they’d be perfect.”

Drake’s eyebrow arched. “You’re making jokes? While standing next to our defaced helicopter?”

The reality of her situation hit her full force. This wasn’t just petty revenge anymore. This was criminal damage. Her breath caught as tears threatened to fall.

“I…” She looked between the two men. Their expressions were unreadable in the dim lighting. “I lost everything. My business, my dreams…” Her voice cracked. “I just... I wanted you to feel a fraction of what I’m feeling.”

Silence stretched across the helipad, broken only by the sound of traffic. Elle waited for them to call the police to have her arrested. Instead, Drake turned to the security team.

“You can go. We’ll handle this.”

Elle watched the guards retreat, leaving her alone with the two men she had wanted to hurt. Now, facing them in the aftermath of her impulsive act, she felt nothing but hollow.

Drake’s fingers closed around her elbow in a firm but gentle grip. “This way.” His clipped tone sent shivers down her spine as he guided her toward a side entrance.

Elle stumbled slightly as her legs were suddenly wobbly. “I didn’t... I mean, I wasn’t thinking?—”

“Clearly.” Damian’s dry response came from behind her as he followed on their heels.

The private entrance led to a sleek elevator. Drake swiped a key card while keeping her close. The doors closed with a soft whoosh, trapping her between the two men. Filled with masses of testosterone, the confined space seemed to shrink with each passing second.

“I know what I did was wrong,” Elle tried again in a trembling voice. “I can pay for the damages…” Even as the words left her mouth, she knew how ridiculous they sounded. The repair to the helicopter alone probably cost more than she would make in three lifetimes.

“Be quiet.” Drake’s command silenced her instantly.

Elle’s gaze darted between them. Drake stood like a statue with his jaw clenched, staring straight ahead. Damian leaned against the opposite wall. His usually playful expression was replaced by a darker, more predatory gleam. The paint on her hands felt tacky, a damning reminder of her crime.

The elevator climbed higher. Each floor brought her closer to whatever fate awaited. Criminal damage. Vandalism. Destruction of private property. The charges stacked up in her mind, each one carrying years of jail time. Her chest tightened.

God, what have I done?

One moment of anger might just have cost her everything. Not only her business, but her freedom.

She should have made that call. Should have listened to whatever proposal they had. Now, watching their stern profiles in the elevator’s bright lighting, she realized she had acted like a child throwing a tantrum. Except this tantrum could end with her in handcuffs.

The elevator dinged, announcing their arrival at the top floor. Elle’s heart pounded so hard she could barely breathe. One thought kept circling in her mind. She had decorated their multi-million-dollar helicopter with pink donuts.

Pink. Fucking. Donuts.

“Move,” Drake ordered, propelling her forward into what appeared to be a massive penthouse office.

Elle stepped out on shaky legs, certain she was walking straight into the bowels of hell.