I glared at him and nodded but noticed he didn't leave.
He leaned back and smirked. "Shit! Maybe I'll still take that fuck on top of this desk another time. The sky is the limit."
The door slammed shut, and I sank into the chair, anger growing, but this time mixed with something else: fear. The problem with blackmailers is they're never satisfied. First money. Then power. Next sex. After that, who knows, maybe a kidney. I couldn't allow a man like James to twist me into knots. I needed help. Damn, life would be so much easier if you never needed anyone. Time and time again I had pretended I could handle everything singlehandedly and ended up with egg on my face. The sad thing is I believed that needing help was a sign of weakness.
Screw pride. Amoré Nights was too important.
I reached for my cell phone. Instinctively, I thought to call one or all of the girls, but I shook the thought away. I didn't need a custody lawyer, part-time model, or fashion executive. Theycouldn't help. I needed someone ruthless who could get down to James' level.
My stomach turned at the only name left on my list. Calling him meant swallowing my pride. But this blackmailing piece of shit left me with no choice.
I pressed his contact. The phone rang in my ear, each tone louder than the last, and even though my hand trembled, I didn't hang up. I'd eat crow and beg for help from him. I just hoped he answered.
Finally, the ringing stopped.
"Padre."
"What's wrong?"
The moment my father asked, the sobs burst free. I tried to explain, but the words caught in my throat, and I fell apart crying.
ELEVEN
You Don't Deserve Me
Padre worked quickly. James knew I had the heiress money but didn't calculate the connections that came with it. He returned to the office today to submit his resignation, and the confident expression he wore days ago was gone.
"Are you sure you don't want to demand I climb on top of the desk and hike my skirt up?"
He couldn't even look at me now, his eyes darting everywhere but mine, like a coward searching for an exit. I leaned back, letting the silence stretch, savoring the delicious shift in power.
"I didn't mean it. You took my words too seriously," the coward muttered, eyes flickering to the door like a trapped rat.
All the swagger he had days ago was gone just like that. Now, it was my turn to laugh.
James finally looked at me. "Just call off Bruno and Mr. Ortega."
I jumped to my feet, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. What I just heard hit me like a punch.
"Bruno?" My stomach dropped. "What does he have to do with this?"
How? When did he and Padre meet?
James stared at me briefly, then rushed from my office.
"Wait."
He would not stop, so I called my father. When he did not pick up, I reached out to Madre.
"Is that matter fixed?" she asked, and that was enough to tell me Padre had filled her in. I braced myself to get scolded.
When seconds passed and nothing came, I answered, "Yes. The man resigned, but I worry he will blackmail me later."
"Your padre would have demanded the evidence. Plus, I heard they recorded him confessing to blackmailing you. That's a crime over there."
I smiled. "It's probably the case everywhere…Did Padre call Bruno? How did they even meet?"
"Back when you two were in college, Bruno came to Spain to visit his family and stopped by. I was shocked. You never shared anything about your life, so learning you had a boyfriend of three years surprised me. But once we got to know him, we approved and waited for news of the engagement."
