The Billionaire’s Heart (His Submissive #4)(12)
Author: Ava Claire

When our lips met, it was like the last piece of a puzzle clicking into place. He loved me. Jacob Whitmore lov-

We both turned toward the foyer at the sound of a heavy thud. Jacob gave me one last peck then walked briskly from the room. Still in a daze, I started clearing the table. The sound of the porcelain plates clinging together was a symphony of awesomeness. I suddenly felt the urge to sing and thought better of it since I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.

The floor creaked when Jacob re-entered the room. "Leila."

I whipped around and smiled when I saw Allegra until I took in the harried look on her face. "What’s going on?"

Allegra glanced at Jacob. "I tried calling." She wrung her hands. "And that was after I tried to handle it myself."

"Just tell her," Jacob snapped.

"Tell me what?" I said, my mind running through possible scenarios. "Is it my mom? My dad?"

"No," Allegra said quickly. "It’s Rachel." She let out a sigh. "She’s locked herself in her hotel room and she says she’ll kill herself unless she talks to you, Leila."

****

Jacob was moving so slow he was practically going backwards. "I don’t understand why we had to drop everything and rush over here."

I looped my arm in his, trying to get him to move a little faster. "Because suicide is no joking matter."

"There’s no way she’d go through with it," he snorted. "Rachel’s a textbook narcissist. She’d never voluntarily deprive the world of herself."

I knew he was right and that this was just another attempt by Rachel to sabotage us. A part of me wanted to let Jacob lead me back downstairs and put as many miles between us and this latest Rachel drama. But there was another part of me that blistered and made me drag Jacob back into motion. My conscience just wouldn’t let me walk away.

We walked up to the double doors of Rachel’s suite. Allegra stood talking to Mrs. Joy, Rachel’s new publicist, who was clutching a cup of coffee like it was her lifeline. When I saw the manic look in Mrs. Joy’s eyes, I had a feeling it wasn’t her first.

Once she saw Jacob, she started babbling. "She refuses to open the door. When I attempted to get management to unlock it-"

"She threatened self-harm," Allegra finished. She gave the woman a pat on the shoulder. "Mrs. Joy did the best she could in a bad situation."

Mrs. Joy nodded eagerly. "She’s been in the room for over two hours. I exhausted every possible solution before contacting you, Mr. Whitmore."

"Well there’s the problem," Jacob said, glowering at her. "If you would have contacted me first, the situation would have been resolved."

The woman’s shade paled, probably envisioning her pink slip. "Y-you would have?"

"Absolutely," Jacob replied coolly. "I would have told you to inform Ms. Laraby that she should get on with it."

Allegra pushed forward, her face crinkled with disappointment. "Jacob, you cannot mean this."

I steered Jacob away, dropping my volume. "I know Rachel’s not your favorite person, but you can’t expect me to walk away when she could possibly hurt herself." I gripped his hand. "And the man I love wouldn’t walk away either."

He gave me a long, pensive look. "Not even if every fiber of him is screaming to let the bitch burn?"

I brought his hand to my lips. "Even then." I cocked my head toward the doors. "Now I’m going to go and talk to her. And then you and I are going out for gelato."

The last bit brought a hint of a smile. He begrudgingly released my hand. "Should I go in? Make sure she’s unarmed?"

A shot of fear raced through me. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of being in danger. If she was threatening to harm herself, it wasn’t a long shot for her to hurt me. “I…um…”

Jacob shook his head, eyes flashing. "There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go in there alone."

I was inclined to agree until I saw Mrs. Joy talking in hushed tones on her cell. I circled around Jacob. "What’s going on?"

Allegra cast a cautious look at Jacob before answer. "She’s talking to Rachel."

Jacob rushed past, Mrs. Joy in his crosshairs, but Allegra stood firmly between them.

"Get out of my way Al," Jacob growled. "I want to talk to her."

"That’s a horrible idea," Allegra said. "You could very well make things worse."

"Worse?" Jacob snarled. "It’s far too late for that.” He glared at Mrs. Joy. "If you value your job, you will give me that phone."

"Jacob Matthew Whitmore!" Allegra scolded. "Don’t you dare threaten this woman for attempting to do the job you hired her for!"

I glanced at the doors and saw that Rachel had opened one a few inches. Our eyes locked and I knew she wasn’t gonna hurt me. I took a few steps toward the room and Allegra’s gaze gave me away so I pushed inside and closed the door before Jacob could plow through it.

I stood against it, feeling every blow Jacob laid on the wood echo through me.

"Leila! You don’t have to do this."

I tried to steady my voice. "I’m fine, Jacob. Just give us a few minutes."

He let out a string of expletives, but the pounding stopped.

Leila let out a grunt then took a long drag from the cigarette dangling between her fingers. "You came."

"Well it was that or let you do something crazy." As soon as the C word came out, I cringed. Generally, crazy people didn’t actually like being called crazy. I tried to look past the scowl on her lips and put a smile on mine. "I’m here to help, Rachel. Whatever you need."

She gestured at me with her cigarette, sending a shower of ashes raining on the mocha colored carpet. "I spent all night trying to figure out what it was about you." She sniffed. "I really didn’t expect you to come." She combed through her hair with her fingers. "If it were reversed, I sure as hell wouldn’t come to your rescue."

"Color me unsurprised," I shrugged.

She let out a bitter chuckle. "And that was my answer. You’re a better person than me. I’m the villain of this story and you’re Mother freaking Theresa." When I didn’t respond, she snapped her fingers and waved her arms around. “Did you hear me? I just said that you win.”

I stared at the face that graced hundreds of magazine covers throughout her career, hailing her beauty and grace. A woman that I’d seen in countless movies, rooting for her, wishing I could be here, envisioning how amazing her life must be. Here she was, nursing a bottle of champagne and wearing the same dress she’d been in the night before. Without all the flashing lights and the glitz and glamour, she was just a woman. And not a great one at that.