Page 20 of Her Submission (Monica & Henry #2)

Claustrophobia

To the sound of contractors tearing the place next door apart, Monica had no choice but to invite her team of accountants into the main room of Le Salon instead of cramming them into her office.

She was overseeing a remodel, preparing for work that night, and being fed dire information about how the IRS was about to blow her ass wide open.

“How they have the means to do this right now has me at odds with what I know about the state of the IRS,”

Monica brusquely said to Lyse Fischer, who sat with her team on one of the couches. She had offered them flavored water from the bar, but the only one to take her up on it was an associate with dry mouth.

“You’d think they’d be too busy trying to save their hides instead of going after the prominent wife of a local billionaire. Not to mention the personal taxes Henry and I pay! Millions. Every year, we pay millions in taxes.”

“We’re aware, Mrs. Warren.”

Lyse provided her client with more papers.

“This investigation has been going on long enough that they have the information required to move ahead. Add on that this is specifically about your businesses… well, it opens the door to moral panic. The agent in charge is particularly known for his social conservatism and probably sold the investigation to the higher-ups who would rather he focus on other things.”

“Right. Smear my name and put me in my place, all while ‘liberating’ my employees or whatever hogwash I’ll hear in the whispers that surround me.”

Monica had a headache, and it was making her curter than usual.

“Meanwhile, they’ll say I owe way more in taxes than I do. Because I’ve done nothing but follow your firm’s advice, Ms. Fischer.”

That was an implied question. You have never led me astray, yes? Monica already knew the answer. Not only was this firm one of the best in the state, but they came highly recommended by other people who made a lot of money in underground industries. Even the Monroes used Lyse Fischer, running The Dark Hour’s taxes through her and the team she represented.

“There is… something.”

Monica perked up, anxiety keeping her awake as she looked between the sour faces before her and the daytime view from Le Salon’s windows.

“Dare I ask?”

Lyse motioned for one of her associates to hand her a folder.

“Considering what we saw coming, I decided to dig deeper into your investments. Namely, the investments coming into your businesses. It’s no secret that Le Chateau saw a dip in earnings through the pandemic.”

“Despite my best efforts, yes.”

What was Monica supposed to do, though? For several months, they couldn’t have guests. Her employees were working online, Le Chateau deigning to open their own FansOnly account until Monica could pay for their own dedicated online server to be launched. Not our finest moment. It went against a lot of he.

“in the flesh”

old-school way of thinking that she had developed into a successful business over the past decade, but she would be dead before she didn’t do everything to ensure her employees’ earnings. I could weather the storm, but not them. Not just the pros: it was the chef, maids, driver, landscapers…

“Many of these investors were easy for me to cross-reference with your old records,”

Lyse continued.

“For example, Bliss Haven, Inc. has been a constant investor in your enterprises for the past several years.”

“Yes. That’s Ethan’s company.”

Named after his wife, when he needed a shell company to mask some of hi.

“naughtier”

investments from public knowledge. While it was no secret that Cole Enterprises had invested heavily in Monica’s startup – essentially paying for the property – the older Ethan got, the more he took the advice to be careful about what his name was actually on.

“Many of those companies change names, though.”

“Indeed. For example, I cannot figure out who owns Onyx Blue.”

Onyx Blue? That didn’t ring a bell for Monica, either. She opened the folder and flipped through until she saw a profit/loss statement beneath a generic logo sporting the words “Onyx”

and “Blue.”

The address was based out of Wyoming. Good luck figuring out who that is. Wyoming was where anyone went to start a corporation that they wanted to keep as private as possible.

“They have been one of your biggest investors the past two years,”

Lyse pointed out.

“We think they may have been what tipped off the IRS. Do you see those numbers?”

Monica shuffled through the papers, her anxiety spiking alongside her heart rate as she realized that some of her surplus funds for not only the Chateau, but the Salon’s expansion was due to thi.

“Onyx Blue”

pumping millions of dollars into her corporation. I don’t normally look at these things anymore. Since marrying, becoming a mother, and balancing two big hospitality businesses, Monica had handed off more of the money tracking to Lyse’s firm. So, not only was she not aware of this Onyx Blue, but she had no idea that they had pumped enough money into her business that they would now be a majority shareholder if she had… well, shares.

“What the…?”

“That’s what we’re asking ourselves,”

Lyse said.

“Perhaps if you can find out who owns them and why they’re so invested in your business, we can clear things up. According to last month’s profit/loss statement, you still have some of these millions in an account.”

“Yes, but the remodel…”

“Find out who’s behind Onyx Blue, and we’ll go from there. It must be someone close to you. Or at least someone who knows you well.”

Monica endured the rest of the meeting with a migraine forming. Yet when she closed her eyes and waited for the worst to subside, she thought of a couple of contenders for owner of Onyx Blue. She just needed to get some outside opinions.

She called the first person she thought of. No, not the person she thought might own the shell company… someone who might know who did.

“I’ve already called ahead.”

She said that to her sister-in-law, who manned the front desk in Ethan’s office.

“He said he should be able to work me in. It’s a bit of an emergency.”

Nadia looked up from the large whiteboard calendar embedded in her desk. The way her pupils expanded and contracted suggested that she knew this somehow concerned the family they had both married into, but this was not the time to be asking questions. Nadia had once told Monica.

“I know I’m the bottom of the totem pole around here, and that’s fine with me.”

As soon as Eva knew something, she’d tell her wife, and Monica was content with that as well.

So, this was strictly business.

“All right. Let me give him a ring.”

Nadia picked up the phone that connected her right to Ethan’s office. Monica paced before her desk, fingers tapping against her purse. Who is picking Abigail up from school today? Usually, it would be her. Was Henry busy? Or should Monica rope Eva into doing it? There was no way this conversation with Ethan was ending before school was out.

She had just texted Henry when Nadia said she could go in. Aware that Nadia’s eyes watched over her, Monica marched back into Ethan’s executive office, where he got up from his desk and welcomed her with a hug and a kiss. It wasn’t their first time seeing each other since Abigail came home, but it was the first time they were alone – and Nadia was grateful for the brief humanity they shared.

“Show me.”

That was what Ethan said as he sat on a couch along the wall. Monica sat across from him in a lounge chair. After passing over the folder of her current investors, she sank into the chair most unladylike, her migraine slowly returning as she rubbed her forehead and fished through her purse for medicine.

Ethan was quiet as he flipped through her papers. If nobody can figure it out, then what chance do I have? Ethan was more up-to-date on who went by what name and who was doing business with who. It was Monica who was good at greasing wheels and getting down to what a person was actually like. Which didn’t help her in this predicament.

“Onyx Blue,”

he said out loud.

“I haven’t heard of this one before. It must be new. As in, incorporated and they immediately started investing in your businesses.”

Monica shuddered.

“That’s what I’m afraid of. When I did some research on the way over, I couldn’t find any trace of them on the internet, let alone what else they invested in. And obviously, my accountants could not tell me.”

“The question is who would do that?”

Monica could only think of a few people.

“There are the Monroes…”

“The company would have been something like Culver Hospitality,”

Ethan said.

“They’re not shy about lumping that all in together. Monica…”

He was still staring at the people in front of him.

“According to this, Onyx Blue is your biggest shadow partner. They’ve eclipsed most of the money I’ve invested in the past few years.”

So, it’s probably not the Monroes… Could it have been Henry? Were they in trouble because he was filtering money through his wife’s company and acting as if he wasn’t? He wouldn’t. Henry was that level of stupidity. And even if he was, Monica would know about it.

She didn’t like who was left on the list.

“You know who loves onyx?”

Monica placed her feet on the floor, still hunched over her lap as she refused to look Ethan in the eye.

“Has a lot of onyx jewelry, even though it doesn’t go with his usual aesthetic, so he doesn’t wear it much?”

She glanced at Ethan, who looked like he was about to throw the papers on the floor.

“Jackson.”

When she said his name out loud, it brought power to the situation. It made it real. Monica bit her lip as she forgot all about the medicine she wanted to find in the bowels of her bag. No medicine can wash his face down my throat. It was impossible, considering their history.

Let alone their history with Ethan.

“It’s… possible.”

He held the paper between both hands, but it shook.

“But why? What does Jackson have to gain with putting money into your businesses? No offense, Monica, but our payouts aren’t exactly anything to write home about if you’re not doing it out of the goodness of your heart or a member of the Chateau or the Salon as well.”

“That’s true. And if it was about getting in my head, he would be so much more obvious about it. Like this, I would have no idea unless I was in trou…”

She cut herself off, something dawning on her. “Oh, God.”

“What?”

“What if he’s laundering money through me?”

Ethan paled.

“I’ve kept an eye on his finances ever since… well, since the incident. He had some slumps and a bad investment a few years ago, but he’s been a golden boy ever since his parents left him tens of millions of dollars. Jackson is a lot of things, but an idiot with money is not one of them. He has investments as old as us. He doesn’t go on extravagant trips. His biggest expense outside of his wardrobe is taking care of the women who live with him.”

“Yes, like Paisley. That’s his top girl now.”

An eyebrow lifted Ethan’s forehead toward his hairline.

“You know about Paisley?”

Crap… Monica held her purse close to her stomach.

“Yes. I’ve met her. I’ve… been back to that place recently.”

Ethan was quiet for a long moment. What was he thinking? What did he think of her? He knows how important it was for me to never give that man the time of day after I escaped. Since embracing Henry and becoming Mrs. Warren, Monica had no reason to dwell on the past – outside of keeping important lessons in her heart.

“He knew where Abigail was,”

Monica explained.

“Because he is close friends with Jean-Pierre Beaumont.”

All the more reason for Monica to have nothing to do with them and Abigail.

“I didn’t have a choice. I was willing to… Eva went with me. She insisted.”

“Does Henry know?”

That was the first thing he was going to ask.

“There are a lot of things that Henry doesn’t know,”

Monica muttered.

“Such as that.”

She hoped Ethan would leave it at that. Instead, he asked.

“Did something happen there?”

“He didn’t touch me if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Monica…”

“But… you know me. I would have done anything to find my daughter. Eva agreed.”

“Monica.”

She leveled her gaze at him.

“Nothing happened. We got the information we needed and left. Believe it or not…”

She sighed.

“Paisley helped. I think she hated the attention he was giving us and wanted us gone.”

Ethan chewed on his words, the paper on the table while his hands gripped his knees.

“If you need to talk about anything at any time, you know I’ll understand.”

“I know. Believe me.”

“But you should tell Henry.”

“That’s between him and me, Ethan.”

He shook his head.

“Eva, huh?”

“The only woman who loves that girl more than her is me. Although she was not impressed with Jackson’s behavior. What he asked of us if Paisley didn’t step in… Ethan, I haven’t told anyone. The only other who knows is Eva, and we agreed to take it to our graves.”

“Whenever I look back at my relationship with him,”

Ethan said.

“I wonder how I could have been so na?ve to not see the monster instead of him. A part of me has always felt responsible for how he treated you. But you know that.”

“And I’ve never once blamed you for it. How could I?”

“I know it got worse after I backed out of our arrangement.”

He referred to the brief year when she was the girlfriend of both Jackson and Ethan. For the first time, my eyes strayed from Jackson. Perhaps it was the beginning of the end because Monica had been with him for years before Ethan came along as a contender for her affection. There was a parallel universe where Monica left Jackson to be with Ethan and the next Mrs. Cole. A life she could hardly imagine, but would have probably made her just as happy as this one. Except Ethan doesn’t want a full-time kink relationship. Jackson didn’t know anything else. Henry was happy to oblige. Ethan?

We would have divorced by now. Or opened their relationship again, despite Ethan being extremely monogamous to the point he didn’t even like partaking in voyeurism with his partners. He was the kind of man who held his girlfriend, wife, whatever close to his heart and never wanted to let her go. It was a kind of passion that taught Monica she could do much better when it came time to leave Jackson.

And now? Ethan is my best friend. She never said it out loud. He didn’t need to hear it. While Monica was surrounded by women she entrusted her feelings and opinions to, no one besides Henry understood her the way Ethan did. Despite things ending between them a dozen years ago and them both marrying other people, Monica knew she could always call Ethan in the dead of night and get whatever help she needed. He was that loyal to the people willing to return that same level of loyalty to him.

“So, you think it could be him?”

Monica meekly asked.

Ethan reached for her hand on the table.

“You know what you have to do. To protect your family.”

He left something else unsaid as she took his hand. To protect myself.

So be it.