“Yes, Mr. Warner. The pleasure is all ours. I do appreciate all of the work you put in to make sure this deal went through. Mhm. Yes, that’s correct. Clayton and I will fly out within the week to take a look at the property ourselves and begin charting renovations. Of course, we’ll be using Swiss contractors. We want to help bolster your country’s economy with our presence. Not bleed it through. Mhm. I’ll speak with you soon.”

I hung up my office phone and leaned back into my chair. Finally, the damn deal went through. The payment was made, the building was ours, and the next leg of Roper Realty could take hold. But the moment was short-lived. I barely pressed ‘send’ on the text message to Clay before my phone lit up in my hand.

And it was Mr. Clemmons.

“Please tell me you have good news,” I said, picking up the phone.

“I just got off the phone with your brother and Miss Roper. I wanted to call you personally as well and tell you the good news.”

I grinned as I crossed my leg over my knee.

“Well, are you going to keep me hanging?” I asked.

“No, Colton. We’ve been through enough of that for a lifetime. I heard from Mr. Jennings and his lawyer. They have miraculously decided to drop the charges.”

My grin grew into a full-blown smile at his words.

“Miraculously, huh?” I asked.

“And I’m sure you wouldn’t have anything to do with that, correct?”

“That depends. Are you on the clock with this phone call?”

Mr. Clemmons chuckled as I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

“I want to thank you for your time on this case. On the hard work you put into making sure this happened,” I said.

“Something tells me I wasn’t the only one working to make sure this was the outcome obtained.”

“Well, I know Clay had a little talk with Matthew’s father a few days back.”

“I wasn’t talking about your brother.”

“I know,” I said.

Clemmons drew in a deep breath. “The pleasure is all mine. If something else crops up with this boy, let me know. The file I’ve gathered on him will be quite useful in stunning his media circus to a grinding halt.”

“I appreciate the gesture. I’ll submit your payment. It should be in your account tomorrow.”

“We’ll talk soon, Colton.”

“And hopefully not too soon. Goodbye, Mr. Clemmons. And again, thank you for all your hard work.”

I hung up the phone, then dropped it on my desk and swiveled around. The skyline of Los Angeles looked a little brighter than before. Seemed a little clearer. It became easier to breathe and, suddenly, a fog that had settled around my vision slowly began to lift. I knew it would work. I knew it was a big risk taking that chance--especially after Clay had talked with Matthew’s father--but I knew it was the only thing that would work. I knew men like Matthew. I was familiar with how their brains operated. How self-centered they could become in pursuit of what they wanted. How they could leave nothing but destruction in their wake to mend their broken egos.

That only meant a bigger wall needed to be dropped in front of them.

Even if the wall was only perceived.

“Matthew. Lawyer.”

“My lawyer’s name is--.”

“I don’t care what his name is. For now, he’s lawyer,” I said.

Matthew snickered and shook his head as his lawyer sat down beside him. My eyes dropped to his wrists. A rolex, with diamonds inlaid around the frame. Though his flashy suit was made of nothing but shimmering polyester. He wasn’t a family lawyer. Not by a long shot. Which meant one of two things. Either Matthew was running this circus on his own and his father wouldn’t let him use the actual family lawyer… or two, he didn’t have nearly the kind of money he thought he did. If the former was the case, it meant Clay’s talk with his father might have worked.

If the latter was the case, it meant he had blown through his trust fund and was looking to syphon money off us.

And that shit wasn’t happening.

“All of your inquiries can be addressed through me.”

Matthew’s lawyer looked at me as the cocky little boy sat back in his seat. He had no idea what was in store for him. Better to let him think he had the upper hand for just a little bit longer.

“Fine. I’ve come here to talk,” I said.

“Don’t bother. Clay’s already talked to my father,” Matthew said.

“That would be ‘Mr. Roper’ to you,” I said.

“Then what should I call you?”

My eyes burrowed a hole between the eyes of the little rat. So many names came to mine. Callie’s lover. Callie’s protector. Callie’s confidant. Her best friend. Her tent. Her safe space. Her light. Her knight in shining armor. Her support. Her foundation. All of the things that measly little asshole should’ve been to her.

“Her level up,” I said, grinning.

Matthew sucked at his teeth as he lunged for the table, but his lawyer placed his hand onto his chest. Settled him back down into his seat. Which was a good thing, because if he hit first, I knew damn good and well I would hit last.

“I’ve come with a proposition I think will make us all happy,” I said.

“Then I would enjoy entertaining these propositions,” the lawyer said.

I pulled out two checks from my pocket and laid them on top of the table. I watched Matthew and his lawyer study them. Take them in as their eyes widened. I knew I had their attention. I’d come locked and loaded, ready to resolve this immediately.

But if they thought they were talking away with money, then that meant I lined up my trap accordingly.

“I’m sorry, is this a settlement meeting?” the lawyer asked.

“Depends on how you look at it. I have two checks, as you can see. One is for the original seven hundred thousand you asked for, and one is for the amended fifty five thousand.”

I slid both of the checks towards Matthew before his lawyer promptly intercepted them.

“You have three options,” I said.

“Mr. Roper, you can address me,” the lawyer said.

“I don’t have to look at you to address you,” I said, glaring at Matthew.

I watched the small little runt shift around in his seat.

“You have three choices. You can take the seven hundred thousand dollar check, but it comes at a price. If you take it, and you cash it, I will hire a private investigator to dig into every aspect of your world. I will turn over every stone and interview every woman you’ve ever fucked until I’ve dug up every slimy, greasy, disgusting thing you’ve ever done,” I said.

“That’s enough, Mr. Roper,” the lawyer said.

“The second choice is that you can take the fifty five thousand dollar check. With that check comes the price of digging things up on your father. I will pay whatever money is necessary and leave no stone unturned. I will find every picture of your father and every disgusting secret he’s tucked away in the shadows of your home and I will slaughter him in the media.”

“Does that same contingency go with the first choice?” Matthew asked coyly.

“But of course. Mark my words, I will use the same facet of society you used to destroy Callie, and I will bring down the entire Jennings Empire. I know the rumors.”

I watched Matthew’s face twitch as the sly grin he had plastered on his cheek fell.

“I know what they say about your father. The alcohol. The gambling. The girls in Vegas. And with that kind of monetary loss and that kind of alcohol consumption, there’s bound to be proof out there. Proof your father is paying out in droves to have buried.”

“That’s it. We’re done here,” the lawyer said.

“What’s the third choice?” Matthew asked.

“This is blackmail, Mr. Jennings. Extortion. We’ll get them all. Just get up and come with me,” his lawyer said.

Oh, the pleasure I took in that question was too great. Especially with that small crack in his voice. That small little waver that told me he had gone up to bat in a baseball game with professionals when he was still nothing but a toddling infant.

“Your lawyer is right. What I’m engaging in is extortion. It is blackmail. So, let’s be perfectly clear. You don’t care about any of that. You never have. The only thing you’ve cared about, Matthew, is getting your hands on something you can’t have. You don’t care about the fact that you’ve terrified a woman you proclaimed to love and you don’t care about the fact that you’re ruining her future. You’re throwing the adult version of a toddler’s tantrum in the public eye, and I won’t allow it to go on. Not anymore. So, I want you to meet a friend of mine to help you make your decision.”

I snapped my fingers and the private investigator I had already hired walked up to the table. He handed me two folders, one with Matthew’s name on it and one with his father’s. I thanked him for his time and handed him a wad of cash from my pocket, then sent the man on his way. And the look on Matthew’s face was one I wished I had on camera.

I slid the two folders to line up with the two checks on the table and leaned back.

“I’ll even sweeten the deal if you’re having a hard time choosing,” I said. “If you take the seven hundred thousand dollars, the deal still stands. But, you can take the folder that has your father’s name on it so he can prepare himself for the media storm.”

“Wait, I thought you said--.”

“You were too busy asking questions, Matthew. This is how the business world works. You falter by asking too many questions and posturing a little too long, and the deal changes. Consider it a crash course in the rest of your life,” I said.

“We really need to go,” the lawyer said.

But Matthew planted his forearms onto the table we sat at. As if he were bellying up to a damn buffet or a poker table.

“You could also take the fifty five thousand dollars with the promise remaining, which means you can take the folder with your name on it and prepare for your own media storm,” I said.

“What’s the third choice? You can’t change a deal if you haven’t laid out all the choices,” Matthew said.

I leaned forward, posturing myself against the child as he slowly slipped back to sit down in his chair.

“I can do whatever the hell I want. That’s how business works. Your father knows that. I know that. My brother knows that. But you don’t quite understand that yet. You will, one day. This day. But you won’t win, and that’s the point. No one ever wins their first fight, Matthew. You rattled the cage of the big dog, and in the process you unlatched the door. You want to know your third choice? It’s the choice you’ve always had. Walk away, and under no circumstance are you to contact Callie ever again.”

“And these folders will go away?” Matthew asked.

“I’ll incinerate them and send you the ashes,” I said.

I drew in a satisfying breath. That conversation had occurred less than forty eight hours ago, and to know that I had made enough of an impression to get them to drop the charges felt fantastic. My cell phone vibrating against my desk ripped me from my trance and I swirled back around from the Los Angeles view.

And I smiled when I saw it was Callie calling.

“To what do I owe this phone call to?” I asked.

“Colt! Colt! You’ll never guess who Dad and I just talked with.”

“Why don’t you enlighten me?” I asked, grinning.

“Mister. Clemmons. He told me Matthew dropped the charges. Can you believe it? All of them! Colt! He dropped the damn charges!”

A smile lit up my face as I listened to her rejoice over the phone. This was the life she deserved. That was the happiness she deserved. Callie had her entire life in front of her, and without the roadblock of Matthew Jennings, her future looked brighter than ever.

I just hoped she’d take me along for the ride.

“This calls for a celebration,” I said.

“Yes, Colt. You have to come home now. I know you’re working and I know it’s probably important, but I want to celebrate. What can we celebrate with? I can’t believe he dropped the charges! Oh, I know how we can celebrate.”

“And how is that?” I asked, chuckling.

“Can you cook me your steak and potatoes tonight? With a nice bottle of wine?”

I leaned back into my chair, my arm falling onto the arm rest and my legs spread wide.

“I’ll cook you steak and potatoes every night for the rest of your nights, if you want me to,” I said.

A silence fell over the phone, and I wondered if I had said too much. Then, her little voice piped up, filled with such awe and such innocence that it tugged my ass right out of my leather chair.

“Will you come home now, Colt?”

I shut down my computer and picked up my briefcase, my legs carrying me towards my office door.

“I’m walking out now,” I said.

“Good. Then I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon, Little Callie.”

And the grin that followed me back to my brother’s house was not a grin from the depths of my lips, but a grin steeped within the pit of my gut. I opened up a text message to Clemmons and asked him to get the finalized restraining order on paper. I wanted no contact, electronic or otherwise, and I wanted one thousand feet around Callie at all times. I wanted no mention of her name in the media for the next decade, and I wanted the stipulations for him breaking those restrictions to be automatic jail time for up to five years.

I sent off the message, slipped into my car, and started back to my brother’s house. For now, that was Callie’s home. For now, that was where her safe-haven was.

But if I played my cards right, ‘home’ would mean something completely different the next time she mentioned it to me.