Page 42 of Jaxon

"Well, let's just see. Hold on." I pulled the phone from my ear and logged onto my bank account. I hadn't checked it in months because it was always depressingly empty. I stared at the screen for a long time. Eve was right. Combined, my checking and savings were close to 80 million. I returned to the call. "Well, it seems my accounts grew almost overnight." It was becoming clear to me that my dad was hiding his liquid assets in my accounts, which meant that he was in big trouble. "Eve, I'll call you back soon. I think maybe you and I should talk. But first, I have to find out what the heck is going on."

"Sure, call me anytime," she said enthusiastically. "I'll clear my calendar for you. It'd be best to talk in person."

"I agree. I'll get back to you. Thanks for calling."

I didn't want to waste the bubble bath. I sat in the warm, fragrant water trying to process the last few minutes. I rarely paid attention to anything my dad or Alex said about business. I knew greed was always their main motivator, like Alex's motivation to marry me, so I mostly tuned them out and hoped, somewhere along the line, their greed would come back and slap them in the face. Now it seemed that day might be closer than I expected. Much of Dad's mega-wealth was tied up in non-liquid assets like stocks and real estate and future developments, but he did have millions of dollars of liquid assets. 80 million, apparently. And if he was in some kind of trouble, if one of his deals, like the Italian Riviera project was in legal trouble, then those liquid assets would be the easiest to lose. He apparently was in a rush and decided my bank accounts were a nice place to hide the money while he got things sorted. He figured I never used my accounts and assumed I'd never notice the money. Now, the sudden rush to marriage made sense. Dad wanted the money back in his control, or in Alex's. In Dad's haste he apparently didn't consider that a transfer of that kind of money would trigger all kinds of waves in the finance world. The bank obviously moved my client status up to whatever level people with 10-digit accounts received, and those lists were always sold to financial institutes and other companies who looked for wealthy clients. Wealth like that never moved around silently.

My mind was buzzing with ideas. I'd hoped to find something blackmail worthy to use against my dad, but now I had a much bigger arsenal at my disposal. I needed to be clever about how to use it. One thing was for sure—I could never let on that I knew about the money. I was going to have to play the very good and well-behaved daughter and go along with everything … for now.

I closed my eyes to relax for a few minutes, but a sharp knock on my bedroom door startled me enough to send a flurry of opalescent bubbles into the air.

"Bridget, we need to talk," Dad called through the door. He opened it as I knew he would.

"I'm in the tub," I answered back. "I'll be down in a minute. Oh, and thanks for the big chunk of allowance," I whispered into the frothy bubbles. "It'll come in handy."

The door snapped shut. I finished my bath. It was time to start operation "get my fucking life back."

I got dressed and headed downstairs. Alex's voice had become an irritant to me, and I flinched when I heard it coming from Dad's office. I stopped at the corner of the hallway leading to the office, took a few deep breaths and plastered on a light smile. I didn't want to go overboard with the "good girl" act because that would cause suspicion. I even decided to wipe away the faint smile completely as I knocked on the door.

"Come in." Dad was sitting behind his desk. His mouth was pulled tight, and his posture was ramrod straight in the chair. Alex was sitting in one of the extra chairs looking nearly as wound up as my dad. He became more so when he saw my face and the highly noticeable bruise.

Dad rarely looked at me, even when we were in the same room, but he noticed the bruise. "What the hell happened to your face?" He sat up even straighter. "Was it that loser? Did he do this? I'm going to have him arrested right now."

"It wasn't Jaxon," I said swiftly and had to work hard to keep the anger out of my tone. I looked pointedly over at Alex. He avoided eye contact and picked at invisible lint on the arm of the chair.

"She fell on the boat and hit her face," Alex explained. I left it at that. I had a much more important mission ahead of me than blaming Alex for my bruise.

The explanation was disappointing for Dad. He badly wanted to have Jaxon arrested. He slumped back some and dropped the subject. Most real dads would have asked a follow-up question—"How are you feeling after the fall?" But not my dad.

"Have a seat, Bridget. We need to firm up the marriage plans." Dad waved at an empty chair. Normally, that statement would have sent me out of the room to let them know it wasn't up for discussion, but I had some major fodder in my cannon now. I didn't need to bother with hysterics or rage or dramatics.

I sat down without argument. Alex stared at me as if I'd just grown horns. He looked apprehensive as if he was just waiting for the kettle to boil and cover him with scalding water.

Dad was slightly taken aback, too, and for a brief second, I worried that he knew I was onto something. I helped squelch that suspicion by favoring him with a cold, hard expression. "Well, go ahead," I added plainly.

"For business reasons, Alex and I and his dad think it's best for everyone involved if you two get married this coming weekend," he said it fast, so he could get to his next point without interruption. "The two of you can live separate lives if you prefer, but for the sake of both family businesses, we need this match to continue. You'll have much more freedom than you have here. Of course, Alex will control the finances, but he has assured me you'll be getting a healthy monthly allowance. You will need to stay relevant in our social circles, and as his wife, you'll need to throw the occasional party and attend them as well. It's important that the marriage look strong. That way the family legacies will be protected."

A smile curled my lip as I thought about the legacies and the corruption behind them. I quickly erased it. Neither man noticed. I didn't want to look too complacent, so I decided to add in a shake of salt.

"In other words, we're going back to the 1950s where the man controls the bank account, and the wife spends her day in fine dresses and high heels and waits anxiously for the man to come home so she can hand him slippers and put his dinner on the table?"

"There you go again with the theatrics," Dad said. "This is a final decision. Unless you want to attempt to go out on your own again, without one penny from me, then you will wed Alex this Saturday. I've arranged for a justice of the peace to come here and marry you. You can have a big wedding at a later date. In fact, it will be expected."

"I have no interest in a big wedding." The room went silent, and both men stared at me waiting for me to put up more fight. I had too many things to plan and do to waste time sitting in their cloud of cologne. "Fine. We'll get married this weekend. I'm tired of living like a prisoner here. But I need my car back."

Alex sat stock-still, unsure he'd heard my answer. Dad was already nodding about the car. "Glad you came to your senses, Bridget. This will be best for everyone."

"I suppose," I said quietly. "Are we through here?"

"Yes, you're excused," Dad said. Alex still hadn't uttered one word, and that was fine. The less I heard from him, the better.

"Oh, and Bridget," Dad said before I could escape.

I turned back to look at him.

"I know I said you can live a separate life from Alex after you get married, but there is one large condition to all of this?—"

I stared at him, knowing exactly what was coming next.

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