47. CASSANDRA

My heart sends out a single kick drum beat in my chest as adrenaline pumps into my system.

“There must be a mistake,” I say, trying to keep my voice neutral. Inside, I’m anything but.

“Perhaps,” says Andre. “There was a balance of $2.75 million USD, but the funds were withdrawn the day before yesterday.”

“That can’t be. I haven’t accessed the account in over forty-eight hours.”

He continues typing, scanning the monitor for clues. I quickly get the impression that he’s only humoring me. Staving off the moment he has to confirm the unpleasant truth. But I already know what it is. The pit of my stomach makes that fact absolutely, unpleasantly clear.

“It appears the money was recalled by the depositing account.”

What? A cold fury creeps into my guts.

“How is that possible?” I ask. How could you let that happen, I want to scream.

“There are certain unique provisions in accounts of this nature. Payments can be withheld or withdrawn in extraordinary circumstances, usually to do with breach of contract.”

I draw a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I am very sorry, Ms. Vincent,” he says. “Obviously this is a mistake. Unfortunately, it is not one I can rectify here at the bank. You will have to contact your lawyer.”

He smiles nervously. I swallow the rage building inside me and manage to smile back.

“Of course,” I say, rising from my chair, as if this kind of thing happens to me all the time. “These things happen.”

We shake hands and I walk out of the office. Carson looks up from a copy of Yachts International as I emerge into the waiting room. His eyes widen as he sees my expression.

“I take it things didn’t go as planned,” he says cautiously.

I flash a thousand-watt smile.

“The fuckers took my money back,” I say.

Carson’s jaw literally drops open.

“What?”

“Every cent. Two days ago. Andre said they have the right as the depositor and to take it up with my lawyer. I don’t have a lawyer.”

“I’ve got about eighty,” he says absently. “But we can’t get them involved in this. You don’t want something like this coming anywhere near the eyes of a judge.”

“No kidding.”

He takes me by the shoulders and looks me in the eye.

“We can fix this,” he says.

“I can fix this,” I say, trying to keep the venom out of my voice.

I don’t want Carson Drake riding in on his white horse to save the helpless damsel in distress. This may be distress, but I’m far from helpless.

He holds up his hands in surrender.

“Absolutely. I know what you’re capable of.”

He wishes. That flip on the dance floor was child’s play. I was just surprised then.

You don’t want to see me when I’m angry.

Carson smiles crookedly.

“Can I ask one favor?”

“Make it good.”

“Can it wait till we get back to New York tomorrow night? I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. Until then, let’s enjoy the next twenty-four hours.”

I’m still pouting, but the idea is growing on me.

“I’m still obscenely rich,” he says.

“Yeah, and I’m flat broke.”

“But soon to be rich. Maybe not obscenely, but rich enough that people will shake their heads and cluck their tongues.”

I fight the smile as long as I can, but I finally I give in. How does he do this to me? Before he came back into my life, I wouldn’t have slept until I’d figured this out.

“All right,” I say, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Let’s go find Tricia and Maks. Might as well have a night out while we’re here. Besides, I want to show off my body. I’ve sweated away fifteen pounds since we arrived.”

He shakes his head.

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

“If you think that’s bad, imagine if you’d stolen a couple million dollars from me.”