Cheeky Romance (Billionaire Dads)

HADYN

FOUR HOURS BEFORE THE VEGAS WEDDING

“You said Vanya’s in Vegas?” I ask breezily from my perch on the hood of my race car.

The setting sun is a brilliant orange orb. I squint at the light as it sinks into the horizon.

My best friend cuts the engine, slides out of the driver’s side and rounds the hood.

“Why do you sound so excited?” Max asks, wearing his ‘cold businessman who cares about nothing but money’ face. He pulls his phone from his pocket and checks the screen. Probably to see whether his fiancé, Dawn, texted him.

From the scowl that darkens his already stern expression, I’m guessing she didn’t.

“I’m surprised Vanya asked you to pass that info down to me.” I cap the water bottle I’d been drinking from and toss it at Max. It bounces off his chest and he quickly catches it. “It almost sounds like an invitation.”

Max undoes the top of the bottle. “I think it is. It’s the first time she’ll be on the cover of one of those fancy magazines.”

“Is it?”

“You haven’t heard her talk about it a million times?” Max grunts.

“I don’t listen to Vanya when she talks,” I lie, glancing at my phone and then pocketing it.

Max stares me down.

I squirm. “What?”

“Who are you trying to fool, Hadyn?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“How do I know that you know that I know what you’re talking about?”

He frowns.

I grin. “Why don’t you worry about getting Dawn’s attention now that she’s replaced you with Stinton Auto?”

“Nice deflection.” He pats my shoulder and walks past me.

“Where are you going?” I call.

“To kidnap my workaholic fiancée and take her on a date.”

“Have fun.”

Max turns around and pins me with his cold blue eyes. “When you get to Vegas, tell Vanya I said hi.”

If I hadn’t let Max plant ideas in my mind, if I’d kept my butt at home instead of firing up the private jet, would any of this crap be happening? Would Vanya’s life be completely torn up by a baby she didn’t ask for? Would I be sitting in my living room, trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’m going to be a father?

A father?

Freaking hell.

I can’t even remember to change my bed sheets on time. Now I’m going to be changing diapers?

That’s if Vanya chooses to have the baby.

I don’t know where her head is with that. After she sprinted out of the doctor’s office, it was easy enough to tell that she was shocked and mortified.

I know how she feels about kids. She hasn’t made her distaste a secret. The likelihood of her keeping the baby…

A knot forms in my stomach and my head starts pounding. I rub my face over and over again, hoping the friction will bring clarity.

Damn.

A knock sounds at the door.

My head whips up. Although it’s a long shot, I’m hoping that it’s Vanya. Maybe she’s ready to have a conversation about this.

I take in a deep breath of courage and scramble to the door.

When I swing it open, I’m stunned to see my dad standing on the other side.

“This is what I have to do to see your face?” he barks.

“Dad?”

Oliver Mulliez the Third, all six feet one inch of him, storms ahead, knocking my shoulder as he barges his way into my home. He wears his salt and pepper hair cropped close to his head, the way he did when he served in the army. He’s in his favorite suit with the white button-down underneath and the pure gold cufflinks. The cold grey of his eyes stands out against frosty white skin that never tans.

“I should have shipped you to boarding school when I had the chance,” dad mumbles, stopping in front of my painting of a vintage race car and crossing his arms in distaste.

“What are you doing here?” I demand, leaving the door open in the hopes that he’ll go away quickly.

He arches an eyebrow. “Is that your best greeting?”

“I don’t remember you uttering a hello before you barged in.”

His grey eyes narrow.

I sigh and shut the door.

This is going to be a long visit. Dad sits at the edge of the chair, his back upright. He’s never been the warm and fuzzy type. At least not with me. No, all that love and affection was reserved for his eldest son. The perfect child. His greatest loss.

“To what do I owe the misery—I’m sorry, the pleasure of a visit?” My gaze slides down to his leather shoes and the perfectly ironed socks. Yes, my dad irons his socks. Or more accurately, he has his staff iron them for him.

“Don’t act clueless, Hadyn. You’re too old for such games.”

I sink into the recliner that’s got the perfect butt impression from my many hours of watching NASCAR events. “Sending Will didn’t get the message across, so you decided to come and judge me for yourself?”

“I was told you brushed him off this morning.”

“I had more important things to attend to.”

“Like what? Wasting time on the track? Or following that Beckford girl around like a lost puppy?”

“I do like it when she rubs my belly.”

Dad shoots to the edge of his seat. “That’s enough, Hadyn. This playing around has to stop. It’s time you take your rightful place at the company.”

“I don’t want the company.”

“No one cares what you want.”

I let out a bark of laughter. “Your honesty is refreshing, dad.”

“Do you even understand what’s at stake? You have a responsibility beyond yourself.”

“I have a responsibility to the race track. That’s it.”

“Racing all day everyday isn’t managing, Hadyn.” He scowls. “I’ve coddled you and your feelings for long enough. We both know you’re not good enough to compete or you would have made an attempt to go pro a long time ago. It’s time to face reality.”

I grit my teeth. His words catch on the raw wounds in my soul and they’ve got wicked claws.

“You can start with a director position at our media company. I hear you had no problems pulling your weight there when the Beckford girl needed help.” He presses his lips together. “Going forward, you can’t be playing favorites with the news. The Beckfords have a short and embarrassing history. There’s no need to protect people like that.”

I’m instantly at the edge of my seat. “Watch your words, dad.”

He pretends not to hear me. “I’ll let Will help you along the way. He knows everything that you need to do.”

“I’m not taking over the media company.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

My eyes cut into him. “Good. Because the answer is no either way.”

“What’s your plan, Hadyn? Play around with brainless bozos and race cars for the rest of your life? How long do you think you can keep living in the fast lane? Sooner or later, you’re going to crash.”

“Whether I do or don’t, it’s my choice. You don’t have a say in it.”

“Like hell I don’t.” He rises to his feet, his jowls trembling. “For your mother’s sake, I have given you plenty of time to get… whatever it is that you’re dealing with out of your system, but I’ve had enough of you acting out. Your brother would never—”

“Ollie’s dead, dad.”

His eyelashes flutter and his face turns white and then purple. “You think I don’t know that?”

“You bring him up whenever you want to order me around, so yeah. I assume you forgot.”

Dad juts a trembling finger. “I think about him every second of every day. And I grieve. I mourn inside because you will never be half as smart, capable or responsible as him, but the least you could do for the sake of his legacy is try.”

Sometimes, I wish I could punch the guy. A no-holds-barred fight won’t solve anything between us, but at least it’ll give me the satisfaction of making him hurt. Dad’s always been better at finding my underbelly, all the soft places that I normally hide away from the world, and delivering blow after blow.

I itch to return the favor.

Instead, I paste a careless smile on my face. Nothing pisses dad off more than someone who doesn’t take himself or the world seriously.

I applaud him. “Thanks, dad. You’ve shown me exactly the kind of father I don’t want to be.”

“Father? What are you talking about?”

“Did I forget to mention? Congratulations. You’re going to be a granddad.”

The horror that balloons over his face is so sweet I could dip candy in it.

“What the hell have you done?”

“Do I need to explain the baby-making process? I mean, I’d be happy to.” I walk casually over to the bar and grab a bottle of whiskey. “But I think that might be awkward given the circumstances. We don’t exactly have a relationship where we can swap stories.”

“Tell me you’re joking.” Dad stalks over to me. His fingers land on my shoulder and he yanks my collar. “You’re not having a child out of wedlock.”

“Oh, I’m not.”

He lets out a relieved breath.

I set a glass upright and pour the amber liquid. Raising it to my face, I sniff and tell him, “I’m married.”

While I sip, I watch dad’s face tighten again. The flash of dismay I see in his eyes is intensely satisfying.

I tip my cup toward him. “Want a celebratory drink?”

“Who is she? I’ll have Will contact her. We’ll take care of the problem.”

I laugh aloud. “Have you been taking lessons from the Stintons, dad?”

He frowns. “Hadyn.”

I drink until the whiskey’s gone. “That’s good. You sure you don’t want any?”

He shifts back. “It’s not the Beckford girl, is it?”

I pour myself another drink. There’s no use in hiding it. “Yes, it’s Vanya.”

Dad shakes his head. “No, it can’t be her.”

“Why not?”

“The Beckfords have been clamoring to return to their place since they lost it all in the last financial crisis. They’re not suitable.”

“Suitable? Vanya Beckford is classy, smart and the mother of my child.” I slam my glass against the bar. “I’m the one who’s not suitable for her.”

Dad pulls out his phone and starts tapping.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Will. We need to get on top of this. The last thing I need is the Beckfords using our name to try and scramble their way back into polite society.”

“Dad, stop.”

“The father’s business failed, the mother died and the daughter had to sell half-naked pictures of herself just to make ends meet. We don’t need to be associated with people like that.”

“Enough!” I take his phone from him. “I’m married to Vanya. That’s a fact. I won’t let you hurt her or our baby.”

“You’d really choose the Beckford girl over your own family?”

“Are we family now? I thought I was the disappointment?” I point to the door. “Thanks for the visit, dad. Let’s not do this again.”

He snatches his phone away from me. “Marriage isn’t a game, Hadyn.”

“That’s why I’m going to take it seriously. I’m going to hold on to Vanya no matter what you do.”

His eyes gleam with anger. “You’re going to regret this.”

“This conversation? I already do.”

“I won’t let your mother talk me out of it this time. You want to be willful? Fine. Since the Mulliez name is such a burden to you, I’ll show you what it means to live life on your own.”

“Goodbye, dad.” I grab the door and stand by it with a steely look.

When dad’s gone, I slump back to my sofa and wilt. Throwing a hand over my face, I let the numbness steal over me.

You will never be half as smart, capable or responsible as him.

Damn, that hurt.

I curse softly and roll to a sitting position. The restlessness inside begs for relief. The kind that can only be found racing at a hundred miles an hour or plowing deep into some nameless chick who’s only interested in getting off and going home.

I rub my face aggressively and launch out of my chair. Swiping the car keys, I barrel to my garage and peel into the quiet street, heading for the track.

My engine is a deafening roar as I complete another lap. The blinding lights above and the world blurring outside my window are all that matters. I don’t remember Ollie’s laughter, his voice or his smell, but I remember the day he taught me how to drive.

Don’t tell dad, alright? Now put that stick in gear and press the pedal.

I ease my sneakers against the gas pedal and push faster. The smell of burning rubber alerts me. It’s too much for the car to take.

But I can’t stop.

I need more speed.

Suddenly, the car lurches on the track. The tires make a screaming sound as they skid across the sand. I haul the steering wheel and stomp on the brakes, struggling to right the vehicle before it smashes into the side of the track.

My world shrinks to this one moment. I can hear my breath staggering. Can feel my heart pounding in my chest. Can smell the scent of sweat dripping beneath my helmet and the scratch of the gloves against my knuckles.

The car smashes into the side of the track and my entire body jolts. I hear bells clanging in my ears.

“Ah.” I yank the helmet off. When I touch my face and pull my gloves back, I see the leather is stained red.

Blood.

Crawling to the other side of the car, I kick the door open and worm my way out. Landing on the ground with a thud, I flop my arms out and stare at the blurry moon.

How far will dad go to prove his point this time?

Does any of it matter?

I breathe in and out.

Ollie was full of purpose. He woke up in the morning with a plan and went after it like a wild dog with a bone. Look what good that did for him. Pleasing the family and upholding dad’s ‘legacy’ got him killed.

My phone buzzes.

I fish it out of my pocket, astonished to find that the screen didn’t crack in the crash. There’s a new message from Vanya.

Dawn insisted I save some for you.

Along with the message is a selfie of Vanya holding up a plate of golden, half-moon pastries.

My head is bleeding. My car is a mess. My dad is about to destroy me. But looking at her stunning face with her eyes full of life makes everything else start to fade away.

Dammit.

I know how to satisfy a woman. Know how quickly to leave one after the job is done too. But I’ve never gone after a woman like Vanya. A friend. Someone smart, ambitious and capable. Someone who’s carrying my child.

“I’m an idiot,” I murmur, turning off the phone and flopping back into the sand. Vanya hates my guts. And I doubt that’ll ever change, even if we are married with a kid on the way.

The only way to protect myself is to make sure I never fall in love with my wife.

Body aching, I pick myself off the ground, brush the sand out of my hair and call a tow. The tow truck arrives in record time, something that doesn’t surprise me given it’s Dawn who’s running Stinton Auto.

“I’ll just need you to sign here,” the tow driver says, offering a clipboard.

“Thanks.” I accept the pen and sign with a flourish.

My phone rings as he drives off.

It’s Dawn.

“Hadyn,” Dawn’s voice rings with concern, “are you okay? I got an alert from the shop. An emergency tow. Location was your race track.”

“What the hell happened? You went racing this late at night?” Max’s voice thunders behind her.

I adjust the cell to my other hand since my wrist is throbbing a bit. “I’m okay. I just got a little banged up.”

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Dawn asks.

“No, I don’t think so.” I press two fingers to my temple. My head is still gushing blood, but most head wounds are like that.

“Can you hold on a minute, Hadyn? I’m getting a call from the guys at the shop. I’ll call you right back,” Dawn says worriedly.

“Don’t bother. I’ll patch myself up and go home.”

“You sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?” Max grunts. “How bad was the crash?”

“Nothing major.”

“Get yourself checked if you start feeling dizzy or nauseous,” Max orders.

“I got it. Don’t worry.”

When they hang up, I limp inside the office and rummage around until I find a first aid kit. I’m bandaging the gush on my head when my phone starts vibrating on the table.

I laugh when I pick up. “Guess you can’t help yourself from worrying. I feel the love, guys.”

“Mr. Mulliez, this is Greg from Stinton Auto. We tried to charge the card on file, and it was denied. Do you have another card we can use?”

I sit up so fast that an uncomfortable, stabbing sensation goes off in my head. “What are you talking about? Denied?”

“Yeah.”

I dig my fingers into the phone. How dare this guy try to scam me? “Do you know who I am?”

“No, sir.”

“I’m Hadyn Mulliez.”

“Sir?”

“I’m friends with your boss.”

“I’m sure you are.”

I grind my teeth together. “The card on file is my personal card. There’s no way it would have been declined, so try again.”

“I did, sir. We tried several times and then I called you as is the company procedure.”

“What’s your last name, Greg?”

“Abbot.”

“Mr. Abbot, if you’re trying to scam me, I suggest you stop here. It’s not worth the trouble.”

“I’m not trying to scam you, sir. Like I said before, your credit card was declined and, according to company process, I have to alert you before we make any repairs.”

“Fine,” I grumble. “I’ll use another card. But I know your last name, Greg Abbot. So don’t think you can try anything shady and get away with it.”

“I understand, sir. Although, technically, if I were trying to scam you, I wouldn’t have given you my real last name anyway so…”

I freeze.

Guy has a point.

“However, I’m not a scammer,” he tacks on quickly. “You can believe that.”

“You bring up a great point, Greg. Let me call your boss and get to the bottom of this.”

“Wait. Sir?”

“We’ll be in touch, Mr. Abbot.” I hang up on him and immediately call Dawn. She should know that there’s a shady employee at Stinton Auto trying to scam clients out of their cash.

“Hey, Hadyn. I was just on the phone with the tow guys. They delivered your car to the shop. I’ll have my best work on it tomorrow.”

“Dawn, I have some bad news.” I relay the information about Greg and the card being declined.

“What?” Dawn gasps. “I’ll check it out. Give me one second.” She hangs up and a few minutes later, she calls me back. “Hey, Hadyn?”

“I’m here,” I say, putting the medicine back in the box and shoving it in the closet.

“I think something might be wrong with your credit card.”

“What?” My eyes bug.

“The transaction really was declined. Greg sent me a screenshot.”

“Did you ask him to try it again?”

“Yeah. Same results.” She chuckles. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but you don’t have to worry about it. Max and I wouldn’t dream of charging you for a repair.”

“What are you talking about?” I hear Max rumble in the background. “Of course we should charge him. Business is business.”

“Have you forgotten that this guy worked around the clock to bury our scandal and protect our daughter?” Dawn argues. “We owe him a lot more than a tow and a repair.”

“He did all that for Vanya, not for us,” Max mumbles.

“Ignore him, Hadyn. We’ll take care of your car, okay?”

“No, Max is right. I’ll pay for this. Will your guy still be at the shop?”

“Should be?”

“Good.”

I hurry downstairs to the changing rooms. Fishing around in my pants until I locate my wallet, I call Stinton Auto and ask for Greg.

When I hear the guy on the phone, I laugh sheepishly. “Hey, Greg. Sorry about earlier. I didn’t realize there was a problem.”

“Thanks for apologizing, and it’s fine. Dawn already told us you’re a VIP customer and not to worry about the cost.”

“I’ll handle this myself, Greg. I’ll use another card.” I slap my wallet open, pluck one of my cards and rattle the numbers off to Greg.

He clears his throat. “That card was also declined, sir.”

My entire body goes cold. I’m not sure if it’s from the shock or if I have a concussion. “What do you mean it was declined? What exactly does it say?”

“It says the card has been frozen.”

“Try another one.” I rattle off more numbers.

“Declined, sir.”

“What?” I rake a hand through my blood-crusted hair. This can’t be right. How could all of my cards be frozen?

The truth suddenly clicks into place.

Dad.

That old bastard.

I hang up on Greg and start laughing like a lunatic. Dad’s never gone this far before. He must really be pissed off this time.

“Fine.” I scoff and stuff the cards back into my pocket. “I don’t need your money.”

I was living off the company credit card, but I’m not an idiot. I’ve got my savings and some investments I can dip into. Once the banks open on Monday, I’ll have access to those funds.

I leave the race track and drive home.

Except there are a line of men in suits lined up on my driveway, preventing me from getting in.

“The hell?”

“Master Mulliez.” Will appears at my window like a ghost of the night.

I jump out of my skin. “Will!” Winding my window down, I frown at him. “What’s going on?”

“As of this moment, you are being evicted and are no longer welcome on the premises. Your bags have been packed.” He gestures to the side of the driveway where two suitcases are sitting like forgotten garbage. “You may take them with you.”

I glare at him.

We have a stare-down that lasts until my phone rings.

I put the cell to my ear. “How far are you going to take this, dad?”

“Since you want to taste what it’s like to be on your own, I’ll grant you your wish.” He sounds far too smug. “I want you to remember that all your actions have consequences, Hadyn. Everything that you are, everything that you own, belongs to me. I give and I take away.”

“What a loving god you are.”

“When you’re done throwing your tantrum, you come see me. I might forgive you.”

“Never,” I bite out.

“Let’s see how stubborn you are after losing your home, your credit cards…” There’s an ominous pause before he adds, “and the race track.”

A vise wraps around my head. “Dad.”

“Get rid of the Beckford girl and your bastard baby. Then this nightmare ends.”

I tremble from the tip of my head to my toes. “Screw you.”

“Don’t take too long to change your mind.”

The click of the dial tone is final.

“I’m sorry, Master Mulliez,” Will mumbles. “The house is currently in your father’s name. There’s nothing to be done.”

“It’s okay, Will. I can stay at the beach house.” I bought a party pad to crash in while I was on the road. At least I was smart enough to get that title under my name.

Will studies the bandage on my head. “Isn’t that a four-hour drive? It’s late and you seem injured.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Very well, sir. Let me get your suitcases.”

My fuel tank lights up like a beacon of doom.

I’m out of gas and far away from the nearest station. Even if I do get to one in time, I don’t have any cash on me. Until I can sort things out at the bank on Monday, my purchasing power’s down to zero.

I’m penniless for the weekend.

I curse as I pull over.

With my options limited there are only a few places I can turn.

I scroll through my contacts. It’s full to the brim, but I doubt I can rely on any of these guys. The friends I have outside of Vanya and Max are the kind I call when I want to party, not when the rug has been dragged from under me.

My thumb hovers over Max’s number.

“Nah,” I grumble.

Going to Max and Dawn is out of the picture. There’s no way I can stomach their PDA for more than a couple minutes at a time.

That leaves Vanya.

And given everything that’s happened since Vegas…

I groan and wilt against the steering wheel. Then I suddenly straighten. “Wait. Why can’t I go to Vanya?”

She’s my wife. The mother of my kid. An old friend.

Eyeing the fuel gauge, I decide I have enough power to make it and point my vehicle toward her apartment.

Freddy the doorman smiles and waves when he sees me. I’ve dropped by Vanya’s place often enough, mostly to move her stuff around when Juniper’s out of town and she needs muscle. The woman is always fiddling with something in her home.

I ride the elevator up to her floor and hope she’s still awake. Vanya sleeps like the dead and not even a hurricane blowing the roof off her place could shake her from her dreams.

“Vanya.” I rap my knuckles against the door. “Vanya, it’s me. Open up.”

The thudding continues until I hear footsteps.

She throws the door open. “Hadyn, what are you doing here?”

I catch sight of her in a silky pink robe that clings to her curves and my brain goes totally blank.

Her scowl intensifies until she catches sight of my bandage. “Did you get into a fight?”

“No.”

Her fingers brush against my forehead and I feel a fire blaze over my skin. It knocks me off balance. I ease away from her touch.

“My dad came by,” I say.

Vanya points to the side of my face. “Your dad did this?”

“Ah, no. This was from a car crash.”

“You crashed your car?” Her eyes narrow. “How fast were you driving?”

“It happened on the race track… that I apparently don’t manage anymore.”

Vanya’s sharp and she picks up what I put down right away. “Why not?”

“My dad found out about our marriage. He kicked me out of the house and cut me off.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’ve got savings to fall back on, but until the banks open on Monday, I’m stranded.” I give her another once-over. The robe has feathers on the end and it matches her dramatic flair. Her hair’s in a pixie cut and it suits her face. Draws the eyes to her stunning cheekbones and luscious lips.

I feel the exhaustion of the night rolling off my back like water.

“Come in.”

“Thanks.” I roll my suitcase into her lavish living room. There are black and white photos from her favorite photoshoots on the wall. The one directly in front of me is a haunting shot of Vanya’s face close up. Water is dripping down her lips and she’s staring into the distance as if her entire world just obliterated.

“You can stay in the guest room.” She gestures to the left. “You know where everything is.”

I rub the back of my neck, not sure where the awkwardness is coming from or how to make it go away.

She pulls her lips in and backs away from me. “Well, goodnight.”

“Night.” I get a couple steps in before turning around. “Hey, Van.”

“Yeah?” She glances over her shoulder.

I chicken out. “Nothing. Thanks again.”

She gives me a tight-lipped smile and disappears into her bedroom. I shuffle into the guestroom, but I don’t sleep a wink because the pillows all smell like her.