Page 23 of Vicious Games

Unable to resist her innocent charm, I kissed her on the top of her head. “Yes, and all are awaiting your command.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You need to stop painting me as the villain, baby girl. Never have I ever even hinted that I didn’t want you to cultivate your remarkable talent. Although I will admit, while I am not eager to share you with the world, as a music lover, I would never deprive the world either. I want you to play. Those musicians are waiting to be your teacher, and when you are ready, I will rent out the most glorious concert halls around Europe for you. They will throw roses at your feet.”

Her mouth dropped open as she listened to my impassioned speech.

I knew it would affect her, probably because it was at least partially true.

The greatest lies always contained a kernel of truth.

She held up the file. “There is no way these musicians want to put their careers on hold just to teach me.”

I smirked. “You’d be surprised what money can buy, kitten.”

She lowered her head and traced the red leather binding of the dossier with her fingertips. “What about France?”

My jaw stiffened. I didn’t want to discuss France. I didn’t want to remember how she had conspired with another man to leave me. “Watch it, little one,” I warned. “Review the file and select a new teacher.”

She flipped through the file again. “I notice they are all women.”

I smiled. “Exactly.”

I gave her another kiss and left for work.

* * *

My assistant greeted me as I walked through the main entrance of my primary office headquarters.

“Good morning, Mr. Winterbourne. Your nine-thirty has been moved to ten and your ten o’clock has been moved to eleven to give you a chance to review the new projections,” said Charles as he hurried to keep in step with my long strides.

I took the file he was holding out of his hand as we entered the elevator. I then reached into the inner pocket of my suit jacket and pulled out the thin wallet taken from the asshole who’d dared to accost Aurora last night. “Go through this wallet. Learn everything you can about the man and how to ruin him.”

“Yes, sir.” Charles took the wallet as we exited the elevator and approached my office doors.

“Is Winston here?”

“Yes, sir. He has everything set up in your office, just like you requested.”

“Very good.” As I crossed the threshold, I could hear Charles on the phone. “Operation Scorched Earth.” He then rattled off the name and address of the man unfortunate enough to have frightened Aurora last night. Now he would pay with everything he held dear. Extreme? Maybe. But I didn’t really give a damn.

The moment he saw me, Winston and his small army of somber-clad assistants bowed in greeting. “Good morning, Mr. Winterbourne. I received your message.”

My gaze scanned the long conference table. Around the perimeter were numerous slim black leather cases. I nodded. “Proceed.”

Winston snapped his fingers. The black-suited attendants sprang into action. They raised the lids of all the black cases. Nestled on purple velvet was a dazzling array of diamond and other precious jewel engagement rings.

Winston stood to my left as he swept his arm over the display. “I have included gold and platinum settings with every shape and size diamond I had in my store. We have emerald, princess, round, oval, pear, and cushion.” He placed a palm over his heart. “We also have my personal favorites: Asscher, marquise, and radiant. And of course, nothing under ten carats.”

Clasping my hands behind my back, I strolled around the conference table. It was a gratuitous display of wealth. Gaudy even. Diamonds so large they looked fake graced each leather case. They would brand any woman who wore one on her finger the property of a rich and powerful man.

They were all wrong.

I would never put my Aurora on display as some kind of token trophy wife for others to envy and idolize. She may be a masterpiece, but she was my masterpiece. I had no intention of ever putting her out into the world as an extension of my wealth. Her mind, body, and musical talents were works of art that would always have one and only one admirer, me. It was only in an effort to keep her happy that I was even considering allowing her to perform piano concerts, and even then, the situation would be carefully controlled by me. All those in attendance would be carefully screened in advance, and no photos of her would ever be allowed to be taken.

I waved a dismissive hand over the rings. “Take them away.”

Winston’s smile faltered. “Are you displeased?”

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