Page 19 of Impulse (Infinitus Billionaire #1)
Lex pulled the covers over their nude bodies and hugged Jillian. She wrapped her arms around him, one leg straddling his thigh. He was getting used to this—her body curled around his. He’d hated seeing her hug a pillow as though seeking comfort from it and to ease her pain. Pain inflicted by those supposed to love and cherish her.
He hated thinking about her family. It was the one problem he wished would go away. He wanted her happy and free from people who made her cry in her sleep. But he knew one couldn’t run away from family or obligations. Yes, he enjoyed what he did, creating beautiful buildings out of the basics. But being the head of his family involved more than doing what he loved. His uncles had all followed their dreams, leaving the job of watching over the Fitzgerald holdings to him.
He tried to take a break, but the responsibilities and expectations always yanked him back like an elastic noose around his neck. The occasional trips with his friends gave him a moment to blow off steam and clear his head before coming home and picking up right where he’d left off.
But with Jillian, he had a chance to have someone to share his misgivings and frustrations, his laughter and tears, and the occasional urge to let go. He might not be ready to bear his soul to her, but he knew that when he did, she would understand. Just like him, she was an anchor for her family. Now all he had to do was keep working on gaining her trust. She was halfway there. She’d admitted to trusting him during sex.
He pressed a kiss on her temple and teased.
“Still want to sleep in the guest room?”
“That depends?”
He heard the smile in her voice. “On?”
“Whether you plan on hauling me back in here like a Neanderthal or respect my wishes and leave me alone like any gentleman would?”
she murmured, burrowing under his chin.
Lex laughed. He loved that she enjoyed baiting him. Hadn’t he just given her multiple orgasms? Most women would be eager to please him. Treat him like the center of their universe. Not Jillian. Man, she pleased him.
“Screw your wishes,”
he said.
“You belong in here with me.”
He lifted her leg so she was practically draped over him, the back of her knee cradling his growing erection.
“And I’ve never claimed to be a gentleman.”
She chuckled and became quiet. After a few minutes, she shifted. Seconds later, she changed the position of her head. She was restless.
“What is it?”
A sigh, then.
“I’m just thinking about my family.”
About time. He’d been dying to bring up the topic of her father but had worried she’d shut him out.
“What about your family?”
“I told Ricky to take the money to the Armenians.”
She didn’t sound so confident.
“Are you worried he won’t do it?”
“He’ll want to.”
Silence followed. Worried that she didn’t want to talk anymore, he turned on the headboard light. When she continued to stay silent, he lifted her chin and studied her face. She was worried.
“But?”
“My father won’t let him. He and Cian, even Uncle Rowan, never stand up to Dad.”
“Even if your life is in danger?”
Her lips pinched, eyebrows slanting down. He stroked her cheek until her face relaxed.
“I don’t know if they’ll see it that way.”
She placed her elbow on the bed and rested her chin on the heel of that hand, then started to draw squiggles on his chest with her other hand. His muscles trembled, but he doubted that she even noticed. Her hand paused for a moment as she threw him a glance.
“You see, Dad is their boss.”
It was a no-brainer what would be important if he were given that choice. Money wasn’t everything.
“The members of my father’s family have always been public entertainers,”
Jillian continued.
“We have these old sepia and black and white pictures of his father and grandfather walking on tight ropes. When his father died, Dad changed things a bit and brought in bikes. He and Uncle Rowan became The Finnegan Duo. Then they had kids. All boys. My brothers and cousins started training when they were kids. They started performing with Dad and Uncle Rowan at age ten. The Finnegan Duo became The Fearless Finnegans. Before my mother married my father, they partnered with the Bay Area Circus and became the main attraction.”
A smile tugged at her lips.
“When we arrived in L.A., Mom took me to their performances every time they were in town. They were amazing. If you’d seen my father before his heart attack, he was magnificent on stage.”
Her eyes lit up as she talked. Now Lex understood where she’d fallen in love with stunts and why, according to Cade, she’d started performing when she hit puberty. Her father started them young. Too young in Lex’s opinion.
“Mom fell in love with him, and within three months they were married. She became his sidekick when he rode his bike on the wire. They were spectacular together, and the crowd loved them. I knew then that I wanted to be just like Mom when I grew up.”
The light in her eyes dimmed and Lex knew the next part was going to be sad, but all she said was.
“Mom was a gymnast and a dancer. When we were on the road, she didn’t just teach me school stuff. She always found a local gym and volunteered while I got free lessons, until they hired her. She was well traveled and would talk about dancing with a troupe. I think before she had me, she must have been a professional dancer.”
She dismissed that with a wave of her hand.
“Anyway, after she married my father, she insisted I take more dance and gymnastics lessons if I wanted to join the troupe. Chris worked as Dad’s assistant, coordinating stunts and training all the performers. He started working with me.”
She smiled as though remembering.
“He was so gentle. I drove him crazy because I wanted so badly to be in the show. But he wouldn’t let me. He kept saying I wasn’t ready. Dad had to step in. I rode the Wall at twelve.”
Lex tried to imagine one of his nieces doing a stunt like that and felt a little sick.
“But my debut performance was The Globe of Death. We performed on weekends and in the summer. At first, Mom was scared for me, but my father saw something in me and nurtured it. Not with kind words.”
She laughed and threw him another glance.
“Dad is not a gentle man. He doesn’t believe in coddling. He used to say that coddling led to a false sense of security, which is suicide in stunt business. We always had to be aware that one mistake could lead to tragedy, and precision was the only thing standing between a painful death and us. He pushed, but even though he gave little praise, we could always tell when he was happy with our performance.”
Lex kept seeing images from the video clip he’d watched at Sloan’s.
“Why did you leave?”
Jillian rubbed her eyes.
“My mom died in a horrific accident, and for weeks I couldn’t even get on a bike.”
She went quiet again.
“Chris got me back on the bike, but he was never the same after Mom died. He finally left.”
She shook her head.
“With Mom and Chris gone, things were never the same. Not for me. But…”
She sighed.
“I was angry at everyone even though her death was ruled an accident. I acted out. Did crazy stunts on stage and even crazier things with my cousins. Dad told me that was it. I had to leave the troupe, go to college for some degree, and get a nice, safe job in some office.”
Lex laughed at her tone.
“Don’t knock it. I happen to have an office job.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Right. You do what you love, Lex. I’ve seen some of your buildings, and they’re amazing.”
“Thank you.”
“Can you imagine me in a nine-to-five job? I would have died of boredom. Luckily, Chris found out and offered me an position in his company.”
“And the rest is history,”
Lex said. Thank goodness she’d left the circus craziness behind. At least in Hollywood, the studios knew better than to cut corners. A dead stuntwoman or man would cost the studio. Smaller circuses like the Bay Area Circus didn’t have that kind of cash.
“I hate Hollywood,”
Jillian said, cutting into his thoughts.
“I only tolerate it because I know that someday I’ll rejoin my family.”
Jillian’s words blasted Lex like a hail of stones. He sat up, forcing her to slide off his chest and sit up, too. The blanket rolled to her waist, and if his mind weren’t processing what she’d just said, he would have appreciated the glorious image she made. Instead, he imagined her handstands on a fucking bike on a wire.
Hell! He’d celebrated prematurely.
“You plan to rejoin your family?” he asked.
She nodded, dragging the covers and tucking it under her arms.
“Hollywood is just not for me. I tried to like it, but I’d rather be with my family.”
She rubbed her eyes.
“At least, that was the plan. A talk with my father. Then roll out the carpet as the prodigal daughter returned.”
Her chin trembled.
Lex pushed aside his frustrations. He would share her with her crazy family if it meant wiping that look from her face. He moved closer and took her hands in his. He didn’t speak, just waited.
She straightened her spine and lifted her chin to look him in the eye. Whatever she saw there must have reassured her because she smiled.
“I’d been waiting to talk to him about rejoining the troupe for a while, but I kept chickening out. My father is a very direct man. Once he makes a decision, there’s no changing his mind. I was scared he’d say no. Then he had a heart attack.”
The more she talked about what her father had said, the more Lex was convinced her father was trying to protect her. His words might have been cruel and cold-hearted, but very effective. Jillian had believed him.
“So now I’m not a… ‘Finnegan,’”
she said, making air quotes.
“And only Finnegans perform in my father’s troupe.”
“You are a Finnegan,” Lex said.
She rolled her eyes.
“Just because you say so doesn’t make it true.”
She pushed him back, curled up beside him, and pulled the covers over them.
“Let’s go to sleep. I have stunts tomorrow. Don’t want to blow it now that I’m stuck in Hollywood.”
The urge to allow her to continue believing that surged. He could ensure her continued safety in Hollywood and have a peace of mind. Even as the thoughts crossed him mind, he knew he couldn’t do that to her. This wasn’t about him. It was about her. Performing with her family made her happy.
Lex lifted her until they were face-to-face.
“I’m serious, Jill. Your father said what he did to protect you from the people he owed money.”
“You don’t know him, Lex. Dad never says anything he doesn’t mean. And,”
she pinched Lex’s nose.
“Uncle Rowan said it was all true. No adoption means not a Finnegan.”
She kissed him, burrowed in his chest, and closed her eyes.
Lex listened to her breathing and reached a decision.
*
The next morning, Lex stood on the helipad and watched as Douglas climbed in after Jillian.
“I sent the intel you wanted to the Shared Files folder,”
Douglas said.
“Good.”
His eyes went to Jillian, who didn’t look too thrilled that she now had his bodyguard.
“Barbs is okay with Douglas being there as long as he blends in with the security guards.”
Douglas shot an amused glance.
“That won’t be a problem, sir. But if you decide to leave the building, please remember the safety protocol in place.”
Nothing ever escaped Douglas.
“I’m not going anywhere without you, Douglas.”
His eyes met Jillian.
“Be careful.”
“I’m overturning an armored car today, nothing to worry about.”
Lex’s stomach clenched. His woman had a mean streak in her, something he usually didn’t mind, but he wasn’t in the mood.
“Sheath your claws, tigress.”
Regret flickered in her eyes. He wasn’t surprised when she changed places with Douglas, grabbed Lex by his tie, and planted a hot one on his lips.
“I’m sorry,”
she whispered.
“Show me later.”
He stepped back, closed the door, and watched them take off. Only then did he turn around and race up the stairs. He grabbed his tablet and phone on his way to the elevator. There were several missed calls from various members of his family, including his mother. Someone finally talked. Most likely his mother. The calls had started pouring in an hour ago, but he hadn’t wanted an intrusion on what he hoped would be a morning ritual with Jillian.
Lex turned on the tablet, found the folder he shared with Douglas, and opened the most recent file before the elevator closed. Like the others, it didn’t have a title, just a date and initial KP for Khosrov Petrosian.
As usual, Douglas had left nothing out. From where Petrosian was born to his marriage to how he came to America and settled in New York. His business was legit—producing cheap clothes by employing migrant workers. He paid his workers well. After a few years, his business practices changed. He was suspected of money laundering and trafficking, yet the Feds never found anything to indict him. Then his only son got killed and Petrosian and his wife went home to Armenia and never returned. He died recently.
His nephew, who was his right hand man, sold the business in New York and moved to L.A. He owned a loan shark business, completely legit, and several Hookah lounges named Petrosian in and around Los Angeles.
When it came to gathering information, Douglas was the best. His sister once asked Lex what Douglas did when he wasn’t driving him around and Lex had said.
“He keeps an eye on things.”
He hadn’t lied. The Secret Service could borrow pointers from Douglas. Douglas had an office in his apartment with a montage of screens showing every inch of the penthouse’s exterior, the helipad, his offices, inside the elevator… Fuck!
Lex pulled out his phone and speed-dialed his number.
“Are the cameras in the elevator active?”
“Yes, sir. The recordings are set to self delete every twelve hours unless I enter a code. There are no recordings in the archives right now.”
In other words, he’d deleted yesterday’s footage.
“When I’m with Jillian, the cameras must be turned off,” Lex said.
“Yes, sir,”
Douglas said, but his reluctance was obvious.
Somehow, Lex knew they wouldn’t be. Douglas took his job seriously and was paid handsomely, just like Mathews. That was the flip side of employing ex-spies. At least he didn’t have a camera inside the Phantom. Or did he? His phone vibrated again, warning him of an incoming call, but he ignored it.
The scene with Jillian in the car after she’d picked him from Van Nuys flashed through his head. He’d never asked Douglas to remove the surveillance system before because it was for his safety, but for Jillian’s sake, they were going to make some sacrifices.
“How many cameras are inside the Phantom?”
Lex asked after he slid behind the wheel.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“How many cameras, Douglas? The truth or I’ll fire you.”
“One in the front and another in the back, and three external ones facing front, back, and above. The feed goes to a server accessible only by the code known to you and me alone.”
He knew the code.
“Okay. Turn off the internal ones when I’m with Jillian.”
His phone vibrated again.
“Contact me if anything is off.”
He terminated the call and connected to his assistant.
“Good morning, Paula.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve rearranged your schedule, but I can’t stonewall your family. Not when they all call at once.”
She sounded frazzled.
“They’re all saying you aren’t returning their calls.”
“I’ll call them back when I’m done with my meeting.”
A meeting she hadn’t scheduled. He could hear the gears turning in her head, but she knew when to ask questions and when to keep quiet. She probably assumed it was something that involved Infinitus. Other than Eddie, she was the only one who knew about the organizations.
“Call them soon, Lex. Your mother made contact with Calaveras.”
Lex’s phone buzzed. A quick glance showed his brother Chase’s cocky grin. He ignored the call and gunned the engine. When he’d decided to contact Jillian’s father, he’d seen it as the only alternative to fixing the misunderstanding between father and daughter. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Maybe he should have gone to Petrosian instead. He understood money and business. Relationships got murky fast. On the other hand, Jillian had said her father was a straight shooter. Once they reached an understanding, the mess would be fixed and he could focus on his upcoming nuptials. There was the mandatory meeting with Father O’Malley, a wedding to plan…
His phone vibrated again and he pushed a button.
“Let me guess, you couldn’t resist telling Amy and now everyone wants to know about Jillian.”
“I should be insulted by that comment,”
Eddie said.
“Does that mean you didn’t tell her?”
“No, I didn’t, and now she’s not talking to me because I wasn’t surprised when she told me about Jillian after Kara called her.”
Kara was his brother Baron’s wife, which meant his mother was behind this. He should have known she wouldn’t keep quiet for long.
“Do I owe you an apology?”
“No, but you might want to bring her to the family brunch or dinner on Sunday. I tried telling Amy I haven’t met Jillian yet, but she won’t listen. I want my wife back, Lex.”
“You want me to tell you how to woo her? I have a few pointers.”
Eddie laughed.
“I’m the married one here. You should be asking me for the fucking manual.”
“I’ll be married in two weeks, setting a new record, so screw your manual.”
Silence followed then.
“Two weeks? Damn, that’s fast. Is she pregnant?”
He opened his mouth to say no, then shrugged.
“None of your business. Can I talk to Amy?”
“Hell no. You’ll only make things worse. I can handle Amy.”
He groaned and added.
“I didn’t mean that, sweetheart. Amy. Gotta go, Lex. Take care of this before things get worse.”
The next call was to his mother, who was on her way to Vegas.
“David sent his jet for me. I should have all the papers signed by the end of the week so I can be home for the family dinner.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“It’s nothing. The family wants to meet Jillian.”
“Thanks a lot for that, too,”
he wanted to say, but reprimanding his mother was not his thing.
“They will. Good luck with Calaveras.”
“Don’t need it, dear.”
His mother was one scary woman. The next calls didn’t go so smoothly. His siblings wanted answers he couldn’t give them—when he met Jillian and why he was keeping her secret. It was as though they’d discussed him, because each and every one of them asked the same questions.
Lex was happy to terminate the last call. He pulled up outside Jillian’s childhood home. During their last visit, kids were home from school. Today, the street appeared deserted. Parents were probably at work.
He stepped out of the car, buttoned his coat, and started for the front entrance. A few feet from the porch, the door opened and the muzzle of a gun preceded an old man.
“One more step and I’m blasting you to hell, you bastard,” he said.
Lex froze. The man’s pallor was grayish, and he looked ready to keel over any minute.
“Mr. Daniel Finnegan?”
“Who are you?”
He stepped closer, cocking the rifle, eyes darting to the Phantom before locking on Lex.
“You don’t look like Petrosian’s thugs. His lawyer? You think I’d treat you any differently just because you’re wearing a fancy suit and driving a fancy car?”
“I do not work for Petrosian, Mr. Finnegan. I’m Jillian’s…”
What was he exactly? Boyfriend? Lover? Fiancé?
“Her what? You people disgust me. Mira died a long time ago, along with her child. They’re both gone. Dead. Let them rest in peace. Take your stupid feud back to New York before I blow a hole through you.”
The nozzle jerked.
Lex tried to make sense of the old man’s rambling. A feud between Petrosian and who? Who the hell were Mira and her daughter.
“You don’t understand, Mr. Finnegan. My name is—”
Finnegan aimed to the left and pulled the trigger, hitting the ground a few feet from Lex. Lex raised his hands and stepped back, his ear ringing. The old man was nuts.
“I’m leaving,” Lex said.
“Good,”
Finnegan said.
“You have no reason to fear dead people, but if you dirty my doorstep again, I’ll make sure you meet them and your maker. Damn bluebloods.”
Fear dead people. Bluebloods. Petrosian. New York. A feud. Lex made it to the car and gunned the engine. Tires squealed as the Phantom shot off, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. Finnegan watched him with a smirk, his gun still trained on him. Future father-in-law from hell.
Lex didn’t relax until he hit the highway. Who the hell were Mira and the daughter? Did he mean Jillian and her mother? Why would he tell someone both were dead? Because no one searched for dead people. Finnegan was trying to protect Jillian from both Petrosian and someone from New York. Why?
Lex glanced in the rearview mirror and spied a familiar black SUV. Petrosian’s men, the same ones he and Douglas had humiliated outside Jillian’s house. He stepped on the gas. They picked up speed and stayed with him, weaving in and out of traffic, too. Lex made a call to the one person who’d always had his back since college.
“You still in town?” he asked.
“Yep,”
Dom said.
“I’m having a few meetings before heading home. What’s up?”
“I want you to contact Douglas, pick up Jillian, and take her somewhere safe.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
Lex glanced behind them. The SUV had inched closer.
“Fitz!”
Dom snarled.
“What the fuck’s going on?”
“I’m trusting you with the most precious person in my life, Dom. Do not let her contact her father. Do not let her anywhere near Petrosian. Get her to safety and wait until you hear from—”
The impact jerked Lex backward, the detonated airbag slamming into his chest. The car spun and veered to the right. He struggled to control the car and get it off the highway.
The attack hadn’t come from the SUV behind him, but from the one he hadn’t seen in front stopping suddenly. Petrosian and the bluebloods? To the onlookers, he’d hit the car in front of him.
Lex ducked as the one behind him hit the Phantom, completely pushing it off the road. The windows of the car shattered and glass rained on him.
His ears were still ringing when the car jerked to a stop. Someone yanked open the door. Before he could react, something hard connected with the back of his head and blackness sucked him under.
*
Jillian didn’t get a chance to talk to Chris until after they were done with the first scene. She left the wardrobe and almost bumped into him.
“Hey. Can I borrow your phone?”
He peered at her.
“What happened to yours? I tried calling. Ricky and Cian tried. Finally, I called Fitzgerald.”
“I dropped it in the water by accident. May I?”
She took his phone, but he held on to it. “What?”
“What happened over the weekend? Did you talk to Fitzgerald about”—he glanced around and whispered—“your father?”
“Yes, and it didn’t matter. I’ll explain later.”
She called Ricky. The phone went unanswered. She tried Cian. No one picked up. Strange. She tried her uncle.
“What?”
he snapped.
“Uncle Rowan, it’s Jillian.”
The connection was terminated. Jillian scowled. This was ridiculous. It was one thing for them to tell her not to visit, but to refuse to talk to her was just rude.
She redialed. It went unanswered.
“Damn it, Uncle Rowan. I need to talk to someone.”
A few people walking past stared. She glared back. Then Chris’ ringtone started, caller unknown. Jillian slowly brought it to her ear. “Yes?”
“We can’t call you because they might be listening,”
Uncle Rowan whispered.
“I had to borrow a friend’s phone.”
“Really, Uncle Rowan? Who might be listening?”
“Petrosian’s people,”
he said.
“You shouldn’t call us. They could trace the call and find you.”
Her uncle could be so melodramatic sometimes. Petrosian’s men were simple thugs, not computer savvy geeks with surveillance gadgets.
“So Ricky didn’t drop off the money?”
“No. You see—”
“Why not?”
she yelled, frustration bubbling over.
“Once Petrosian gets his money, this nightmare will be over.”
“He doesn’t want the money, Jillian,”
Uncle Rowan snapped.
“He wants you, but we’re not going to let that happen.”
“Let’s call the police.”
“No. No police. They’ll want to interview you, and we don’t want you involved. Stay away until this blows over. Those are your father’s orders.”
The line went dead.
That was the strangest conversation she’d ever had. Lex had been right about her father pushing her away to protect her. She studied the people scurrying around the set. Keith waved to her. Chris was discussing the next stunt sequence with one of the assistant directors. She wouldn’t miss this place. Douglas, in the studio security uniform, moved freely around the set, but his eyes stayed on her. He blended until you looked into his eyes. They were sharp, cataloguing everything. He must have been one hell of a spy.
The smile disappeared from Jillian’s face as some the things her uncle had said flitted through her head. Petrosian wanted her. Why? The conversation between Baldie and his partner flashed in her head, and Jillian groaned. Porn star.
“I’m not a porn star,”
she snarled.
“Who said you were?”
She looked up at Keith and grimaced.
“A thug I’d like to torture for making my life a living hell. What’s going on?”
His expression said he wasn’t sure whether to take her seriously or not.
“They just announced we’re heading to Vancouver next week.”
“When?”
“Sunday. Filming starts on Monday. Do you want to work on the next fight scene? I have time, and I plan on leaving early.”
She’d like to leave early too and maybe pay Lex a visit in his office. In the meantime, she wanted to tell him about her conversation with her uncle.
“I need to make one phone call; then I’ll join you,” she said.
“Calling the thug making your life difficult?”
“No. My, uh…”
What exactly was Lex to her? Her boyfriend? He was too manly to be called boy. Her lover or the man she was quickly falling in love with?
“Your what?”
Keith asked.
“My man.”
Jillian grinned. Yes, Lex was her man. Period. No more thinking about when she’d get tired of him. She was never getting tired of that man. In fact, she was looking forward to the year of being his wife.
Keith snapped his fingers under her nose.
“Hey, starry eyes!”
Jillian leaned back, her cheeks warming.
“I’ll find you as soon as I’m done.”
But when Keith left, Jillian realized she had Chris’ phone. Lex’s phone numbers were on her phone. Damn. The call would have to wait.
She followed Keith.
They were in the middle of sparring when she heard.
“Sir. You can’t be here. This is a closed set.”
Jillian’s first thought was Lex. She smiled and relaxed. If it were Lex, they’d roll out the red carpet. She faced Keith and resumed their rehearsal.
“I want to see her now!”
a voice rang out.
Jillian recognized the deep commanding voice. She turned, forgetting that she was sparring with Keith. A punch landed on her chin, knocking her backward. She staggered, her hand going to her cheek.
A roar filled the set, and the next second Dom was lifting Keith by his shirt and two security guards were picking themselves up from the ground. The production manager, Barbs, and several security guards closed in fast.
“You like punching women?”
Dom snarled, a hand poised to squash poor Keith.
“Dom, no!”
Jillian yelled.
“Agent Manos!”
Douglas barked at the same time.