The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO)

Chapter 74

“I’m still here.” I’m quiet and weak all over. I guess opening up this damn of tears has caused considerable damage, I can’t seem to stop them nowadays.

“Who hurt you, Bella?” his voice is soft and gentle. His pet name causes another fresh tear to roll down my face. “You need to tell me who he is, so I can have them sweep the building.” He coaxes gently and firmly, sounding so warm and safe to me right now.

“I hate him …” I whisper softly, the child in me making herself known. I sit in silence for a moment. My throat constricting painfully but I am starting to pull through.

“Talk to me, Emma … Please. I can’t stand this.” Pleading and gentle. Jake’s irresistible to me right now, I wouldn’t deny him anything when he is back to being the man I miss so very much. The one I can rely on.

“My father … He came here.” I sniff, wiping away residue tears, starting to gain control over them too; he just calms me effortlessly and he has absolutely no idea. He’s my lifeboat in a storming sea.

“To the offices?” a startled response, much like mine was.

“Reception, on the ground floor.” I swallow and sit up, able to take a steadying breath, my voice getting stronger.

“What did he do, Bella?” his voice is barely above a whisper. Treating me like fragile glass.

God, Jake, I need you so much.

“He asked me for money … To stay away from me.” I smirk bitterly through the pang it causes and laugh sardonically. I sound heartbroken. Maybe I am. There’s a deathly silence then curses quietly, calling my biological an awful name. Jake at least gets it.

“I slapped him in the face … My hand hurts.” I drop my eyes down to the bright red skin on my palm and the throb it’s emanating. It was worth it.

“I would have broken his neck,” he snarls. “Emma, you need to calm down, okay. I’m getting on the first flight back, Bambino … I’ll be home as soon as I can get there.” The genuine affection in his voice causes a fresh wave of tears, more relief. I want him home more than anything in the world and he’s finally coming.

“Why did you leave me?” it comes out before I can stop it, emotion fueled. Desperation at finally having normal Jake back.

“Don’t talk about this now … When I’m home.” He breathes, as men come into the stairwell, feet clanking on the floor and door creaking; they call my name out from above.

“Security is here.” I whisper and hear him sigh with relief.

“Go with them … show them what he looks like on the security footage, then I want you to go home … to my apartment. Stay there until I’m back, wait for me.” Bossy Carrero is back, but I won’t argue, this is who I need. I won’t even refuse going to his place, I want to be there when he gets back.

“Okay.”

“Emma?” he adds as an afterthought.

“What, Jake?” I pause.

“You won’t get fired for slapping that fucker in the elevator. The tapes will be wiped … I’ll deal with him myself.” The gruffness of his voice is reassuring; I sigh, sniffing and finally calm my tears. Relief that he will take care of everything, like he always does.

The man above me on the stairs is holding my shoes out to me and I accept gratefully, the other offers a hand to help me up. I’m suddenly aware of the mess I’m in, a little self-conscious now at being caught by two strange men this way.

“I need to go now,” I whisper into the cell reluctantly. I don’t want him to go.

“Put one of them on,” he commands gently so I hand the cell to the one holding my shoes.

“He wants to talk to you.” I hold it out and he accepts, and promptly puts it to his ear.

“Yes, Mr. Carrero?” …. “Yes, sir.” He glances at me and away again. “Right away, sir.” ….. “As soon as she identifies him.” …… “Understood!” ……. “Yes, sir, She’s … She’s calming down.” He looks me over again, this time I frown at him. Fully calm and back in control of my faculties, but I just feel drained. “Okay, sir.” He hands the cell back to me and I notice it’s still in call mode, I put it back to my ear.

“It’s me,” I utter softly.

“Go with them, do as they say … I’ll be back as soon as I can. Try not to think about this until I’m home.”

I tell him I need to go, calmer and grounded. Commandeering Carrero has taken control and suddenly there’s nothing but fatigue. I say goodbye before I hang up; a wash of warmth, relief overtaking me. Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

My Jake is coming back … He’s coming back for me. He’s going to make it okay again. He makes everything okay.

* * *

Laid in bed in my room at Jake’s apartment, I have dozed in and out of sleep, listening to distant sirens and noises from afar. The calming hustle and bustle of Manhattan. It’s late, I’m tired yet I’m not. I’m somewhere between dosing, and over thinking and restless.

The housekeeper has retired to bed and the apartment security is out wandering the outer halls again. I’m aware of the faint sound of a crackling radio occasionally although they never really venture inside the main part of the apartment, but I like knowing they’re out there. Jake isn’t one for much security, but his father insists. He doesn’t see the need for it when he’s home, he rarely uses it when we’re on business either. I guess he knows he’s capable of beating the crap out of most assailants, seeing as boxing and martial arts are some of his past times.

I’m uneasy and antsy, I know he’s coming home, and I’m afraid about how we left things.

Will he look different to me now? Knowing that he’s been …? I don’t want to think about what he’s been doing.

There are voices in the apartment suddenly. Distant, but they’re coming in. I’m not sure why they would be …

Oh wait! It’s Jake’s voice, he’s home!

I don’t know what time it is, but he’s really home. I can’t control the wave of euphoria or buzz of energy this gives me. I sit up in bed and wait, I’m not sure if I should go see him or stay in here; I’m suddenly shy and nervous and apprehensive.

Don’t be stupid.

I scold myself. I ignore the little voice trying to remind me of how things were the last time I saw him but squash it. I let myself out of my room quietly and pad along the hall toward the noise, it’s one of the security men and … I freeze.

There’s a leggy red head standing a couple of feet away from Jake, looking bored, but I recognize her instantly. She’s one of “his” Leggy Bimbos and it hits me like a sucker punch.

I hadn’t expected this … It causes a heavy pain in my chest, that I immediately push down and gulp down the sudden nausea it brings with it.

What the hell? Is that who he’s been?

I don’t want to know. I don’t want to see. I lean against the wall in the shadows grasping for a steadying breath, my heart shredding to pieces. He’s Jake Carrero. This is how he is; this is how he always is. I need to forget all that crap on the boat and get a grip, put the mask back on …

Please put it back on! … I can’t!

Its fallen on the floor and broken into a million pieces today and I can’t find any crazy glue to piece it back together. I’m left vulnerable and I hate it. This isn’t me. I stare at my hands in the dark watching them tremble, then my body follows suit.

“Is she asleep?” his deep voice rumbles through the pain in my heart and pulls my gaze back towards the voice.

Jake … Why do you have to sound that way? Why did you get a voice that can ravage me with only a few words?

I’ve missed it, he sounds so clear, and close, and touchable.

“Yes, sir. She went to bed almost as soon as she appeared.” One of the men reply quickly, almost apologetically.

“How did she seem?” Jake sounds tired. My arms ache to be wrapped around that voice but I’m so hurt by him.

“Upset, sir.”

“How did she look?” Jake sounds apprehensive anyway.

“Unlike her normal self, Mr. Carrero.” I realize he’s talking to Mathews, his head of security. I like him, he always smiles and greets me with a warm look. A man who looks a little George Clooney, yet completely capable of snapping necks.

“Was she still crying?” Jake sounds like he cares, maybe he does, except he brought home a play mate, so he doesn’t care that much; I ponder sadly.

“No, sir. She just looked exhausted.” Mathews is certainly observant, and I wonder if I still look that bad.

“Did she eat?”