Boss: Romantic Thriller
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prelude
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Part Two
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Part Three
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Part Four
Epilogue
About the Author
BOSS
The Divas Pen LLC Publication
http://thedivaspen.com
BOSS
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
BOSS © Copyright 2016 Sienna Mynx
Cover art by Sienna Mynx
Electronic book publication December 2016
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, The Diva’s Pen LLC.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously
Prelude to Murder
Kassidy had never seen a man shot before. Alone in her misery, she suffered a cold ache through her body. It extended from the top of her head, to the bottoms of her bloody feet. Thankfully, being locked behind the door of an interrogation room stopped the people at the police station from staring. It wasn't the blizzard she survived, or the wet clothes stained in blood she wore that made her a sight. It was the empty hollow stare she gave the medics and police, as they whispered to each other that she might be in a state of shock. Kassidy wished for shock. If she suffered that type of mental paralysis, then she would be numb and possibly forgetful of the past seventy-two hours. Maybe God would be forgiving and erase the past four months from her mind. Or even further. Instead, the weight of her emotional and physical despair had left her aware. If it had not been for her vendetta, and her obsessions, all of this could have been avoided.
The door opened.
With clenched fists hidden in her lap, Kassidy watched two detectives step inside. Both men wore hard-boiled scowls on their faces. Neither seemed impressed with her suffering. Not once since she arrived in handcuffs, was she asked if she needed medical attention. And she did. The gashes and cuts to the bottoms of her feet kept weeping. She was glad to be seated. Each step made the floor sticky, or slippery.
The rest of her wasn’t better. She touched her hair. After several days of not combing the modern styled short pixie hair cut she wore, it was left curly and flat to her skull. The clothes she had on were his, and ill fitted. Her face had cuts, scratches, and bruises that had barely healed. She arrived at the police station with only socks on her feet. What was this room? Why did they leave her there to wait? Where was he? Was he okay? Kassidy’s hand trembled with nervous quivering as it went over her head in a weak attempt to collect herself, but it was awkward because her wrists remained locked together in iron bracelets.
“Am I under arrest?” she asked.
One of the detectives gave the other a sideways look. Ignoring the question, the tallest man between the two of them came forward and unlocked her cuffed wrists.
The other detective began to read her, her rights. She found that odd. If she weren't under arrest, why did he find it necessary? She had the right to remain silent. Anything she said could and would be held against her. She had the right to an attorney. If she couldn’t afford one, then one would be appointed to her. And on he went. She must be under arrest. They had found her guilty without knowing her real crime. Kassidy stared at the detectives and her eyes pooled with tears. I have to see him. I have to know if he is alive.
“Do you understand these rights as they were explained to you?” One of the detectives asked.
“No. Yes. I think so,” she replied.
“Good. Very good,” said the shorter detective who was skinny with no facial hair. He did, however, have a sleepy eye that made it look as if he were giving her a wink. “Your name is Angela Brown, right? Want some gum?” he asked like a stranger would to tempt a child.
She shook her head no to the offer.
“Answer me, is your name Angela?”
“No. I’m Kassandra Turner.”
“Your identification says...”
“I know what it says. I’m telling you it’s not my name. My name is Kassandra Turner.”
“So your identification is fake?” the other detective asked. The frown on her face deepened. For detectives they weren’t very smart.
“I’m Detective Grason, and this is my partner Detective Eric Carter.”
The introduction didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to her was Tarek. Did he survive? Was he arrested?
“We need help here Kassandra. You understand the trouble you’re in, don’t you?” Detective Carter asked. “And I’m not talking about the fake id.”
“I gave a statement. And they put handcuffs on me,” she replied.
“We’ve spoken to the officers who brought you in. There's a lot you didn’t tell them. Isn’t there?” Detective Carter asked.
“I'm,” she said, her voice was strained but meek. When the man didn't respond, she glanced up and looked at the one named Grason with the sleepy eye. “I'm innocent.”
Detective Grason’s brows lowered. “Is that so? Then you need to explain to us why we have two dead men, and the other in a holding cell bleeding all over the fucking place.”
“I thought...”
“Two, young lady!” Detective Carter snapped.
She swallowed her question and composed herself. She had to work hard to suppress the urge to confess every sinful act in her life. Including the deep seeded reasons why she could hate and love a man like Tarek.
“Is he okay?” she asked.
“Who?” Detective Grason answered.
“Tarek.”
“He’s refusing medical attention. He attacked two of our officers here, as well as the paramedic who tried to help him. We had to put him in a chair and restrain him. We think he might be on something.”
She shook her head no. “He’s not on anything. That’s... who he is.”
“A killer?” Carter asked.
“No—I meant—”
“So he’s your boss? Right? You work for Marshall Global Solutions?” Detective Carter asked.
“Yes,” she said. “I work for MGS.”
The two detectives exchanged a look, as if they had scored in the invisible game between her and them.
“Your boss is Tarek Marshall, one of the most powerful men in this state, and right now, instead of a doctor, he keeps shouting your name. My guess is, he’s
the one that gave you those bruises. Am I right?”
Kassidy is dumbfounded. With all the evidence the detectives had to have discovered they are still clueless. She tried to sit back and but one of the men grabbed her hand. “You’re afraid of him. You should be. He wants to shut you up. He is already using his power in this city to silence the media. You can trust us. We’ll protect you. We just need you to be honest so we can trust you.”
She wasn't sure what they wanted her to do or say. She was so tired, scared and disillusioned to be of any use to them. The fact that Tarek asked for her, drove another stake of conflict through her heart. She loved him. She had since she was a little girl. But she was scared of him too. And not for the reasons they thought.
“I want to go home,” she said.
“Don’t we all?” the other detective chuckled. “The only way out that door behind me, is for you to start talking. I need the truth. Or your version of it.”
“Am I being charged with something?” she asked again.
“I thought we covered this,” The detective huffed. “You aren’t under arrest.”
“But you two keep questioning me, like I’m guilty of something.”
“Are you?” Detective Carter interjected over his partner. “Guilty of something?”
Kassidy looked from him to the other detective. Yes, she was guilty. She had enough pain and fear in her heart to keep her up at night for the rest of her life. But all she wanted at that moment, was to save Tarek from himself. If she didn’t, no one would.
“I have nothing to say to you. Nothing,” she said.
Detective Grason glanced to his partner. Detective Carter touched his arm. The two men stepped aside and had a whispered conversation.
Detective Grason stepped forward. “We're going to help you. Have your feet looked at, and see if you need any further medical treatment. Then we'll talk.”
“But I told you I don't have anything to say.”
“You may change your mind.” The detective forced her to stand, and she winced.
***
“Why is my client restrained like that?”
Tarek Marshall opened his eyes. He was fastened down in a restraint chair with a muzzle over his mouth. Though he was sure he had several broken ribs and was bleeding through the restraint jacket that crossed his arms and tied them to the back, he felt no physical pain. His adrenalin was his fuel.
“I have two dead men and a woman too traumatized to say much beyond her name. Your client has attacked my officers. He's restrained for his own safety.”
“Charge him or release him,” Jefferies demanded.
“The D.A. has to make that call, I...”
“Then get the D.A. in here. I want formal charges now, or I'll shut you and this department down. Tarek Marshall is a victim. A standing member of the community, and he's bleeding all over the fucking place after suffering a severe trauma...”
Tarek stopped listening. His gaze cut left. His head didn't need to move to see her. A detective had to help her walk. She wore his shirt and his pants tied around her waist. Still under the clothes that swallowed her, he saw her beguiling beauty. And as if on the same wave length, she felt his rage. Her head turned, and she looked at him. She stopped limping. She stopped moving. Hell, if he didn’t know any better he’d swear she’d stopped breathing. She stared at him. The detective made sure she saw him. That was their game. Show her the monster and then convince her that they would be the only ones to protect her.
Tarek narrowed his eyes on her. But there was a deeper game between her and him. One that started long before he realized. She was cunning. She was sweet. She was guilty and she was innocent. And she was his. That much he was sure of.
He couldn't speak to her. To explain the past and the sacrifice she would need to make to live long enough to have a future. He couldn't undo what he'd put her through. For the first time since he learned who she was, he saw that little brown girl again with long ponytails and bright eyes. The one he'd forgotten from a lifetime ago.
Tarek cut his gaze from her to the detective that held her arm and remembered his face. He remembered all their faces. Kassidy was led away but Tarek tracked her with his eyes until she was out of sight. She was alive, and she was still his whether she knew it or not. A smile formed under the restraint clamped down on his mouth. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to forget her lies and focus on the truth.
Part One
Chapter 1
March 2014
“Wow! No one told me how cold it would be in Chicago,” Kassidy unraveled the scarf from around her neck. Daniel didn't look up from his laptop. He kept pecking away. His dark frame glasses were pushed up on his nose and his eyes were magnified as they scanned the screen. His passion and dedication to the cause of climate change and wildlife preservation was admirable but borderline obsessive. If he were working on a new blog update, she'd have to sit in silence for however long it took for him to finish his thought.
Kassidy removed her gloves and glanced around at the posh restaurant. They were in the lobby of the Langham Hotel in downtown Chicago. Dining was set under white table cloth tables with spit-shined utensils and crystal glasses. The people enjoying an early dinner were sparse and spaced away from each other. Daniel sat in the only booth seats that were next to the windows. “This place is fancy! Are you sure you can afford to put me up here?”
“I’ve already paid your bill. You need to go upstairs and get your things and check out. We're calling it off.” Daniel’s voice snapped like the tail of a whip.
Kassidy gaze swung back to him. “What did you say?”
“It's not going to work. This plan of yours. I'm working on something else...”
“Wait! Wait,” she lowered her voice and forced the lid of his laptop to shut. Daniel blinked as if he were unplugged from the thing. He looked at her as if just seeing her.
“We had a deal. This will work. Remember I'm the one that knows him. I’m the one that has been sitting in these boring lectures all week to get close to him. He’s supposed to be here any minute.”
“This man is dangerous. We aren't talking about corporate greed. We're talking about real danger. I'm going to post my latest YouTube vlog. It'll get everyone talking.”
“Without proof? What do you have?”
“This is America. We don't need proof. Just speculation. The media doesn't look for news. They want sound bites. And I got plenty.”
“Your team has tried for over three years to expose the Marshall family. No one listens, not the government, not the media, no one. And your hackers are crap. We have to fight dirty. Really get into this fight Daniel, or nothing will ever change. Trust me. I learned a lot here at the conference. Get me close to him and I can do the rest.”
“No,” Daniel said, he lowered his voice. “What you're talking about is prostitution.”
Kassidy laughed. “I'm not going to sleep with him, dummy.”
“You think you're going to share a glass of wine with him in that dress and sex isn't on the menu?”
“Sex is always on the menu with men. I just need to get his attention. And then I can work on gaining his trust. We have to find a way inside. Right?”
Daniel sighed. “He's a redneck Texan oil man who lives by the code of the stars and bars. He might not even look twice at a black woman.”
“Oh? So now it’s going to fail because I’m black?”
“It’s not a race thing for me,” Daniel mumbled.
“You sure? You don’t treat Carmen and Meg like this. And they have both taken big risks for you before.”
Daniel looked back at her with what she read as distrust. What had she done to piss him off?
“He's a man. They've been looking at us ‘black women’ since we got off the ship.”
“Very funny.”
“None of this funny Daniel. That’s the point. I have to do what makes us both uncomfortable for the greater good.”
“Listen to me damn it.” Daniel s
aid through clenched teeth. “I have information that says he may be connected to some dangerous people. That drilling in Alaska is tied all the way back to the Kremlin. I don't feel comfortable with this.” Daniel sat back. His eyes stretched, and his features were slack. “And you shouldn't either.”
Kassidy could tell by the frozen look of disbelief on his face that their target had arrived. She did a half head turn to glance back over her shoulder with her eyes only. Tarek Marshall walked into the restaurant with two other men. They were all dressed in black long coats and wore black leather gloves. They must have just arrived from outside because they had expensive cashmere scarfs tucked in the collars of their buttoned down coats. And Tarek took the lead. He had a different stride. The kind that forced the other two men to remain a step behind.
“That's him and his brothers, isn't it?” Kassidy asked. She tried to mask her excitement. It was hard.
“The convention is about to close. Every day this week after their meetings he comes here alone. Today he’s with them. Another reason to call it off.”
“Why?” she asked.
“They’re his brothers. He doesn’t need a reason why.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird that he doesn’t meet with anyone? I know for a fact half the idiots here in this hotel want five minutes alone with him. They stalk him like he’s a celebrity.”
“He’s no fucking rock star. He owns those corporate groupies you’ve been brushing shoulders with. You don’t get to sit at his table unless he invites you. He drinks alone. Big deal. It’s how it’s done.”
“It might mean something. That’s all I’m saying,” she countered. “I remember, I, uh, think that he wasn’t always so stiff and formal.”
Daniel frowned. The slip of tongue was definitely not missed. She tingled all over with excitement. And Daniel was a bloodhound. He sniffed out a story from any person, place or thing. He could tell she was giddy.
“At this point Kassidy it only means you won’t get close to him tonight or any other night. So we do this my way.”
“Not so fast. I haven’t made my move. At least let me try before thinking I’m doomed to fail.”