The Billionaire’s Pawn

LONDON

“So, what do you say?” Striker asked his dad.

I decided to join him and get away from work for a while. If I was being honest, I needed a long break. I couldn’t focus. There was a lot going on in my mind.

“I wanna know your opinion.” This must be hard for Tate. He loved Striker so much like his own blood. And I could see it right now. He was scared.

“Dad, I won’t go if you don’t wanna come with us.”

“What does your heart say?”

“That’s what my heart said.” His answer was fast. “You are my dad. Although you put me up on this, I would not cross the line. You will always be the first person I ask for advice when it comes to him.”

Tate got up from the chair and walked toward the window. He didn’t look at his son again. “Did you two have fun?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean by you don’t know?” Still, he was not facing Striker.

“I’m not sure, Dad. I mean, I haven’t killed him. So I guess we are civil.”

He sighed deeply. “We’re going then.”

“Really? Are you sure?” Striker sounded surprised.

“Yes. Tell your friends, as well.”

“I thought I could take Linden with us. Just him. I’m sure Sax and Kye will be working.” He paused. “Dad, are you sure about this?”

This time, Tate came to his son. “Striker, I would disagree if I wasn’t. You’re going to be fine.”

“It’s not about me, Dad.”

“Then what is it exactly?” He cupped the back of his son’s neck and smiled at him.

“I don’t wanna hurt your feelings.”

“Nothing can hurt me to see my son happy. That’s all I want for you. I’m sure you know this moment will come when you give Moses a place in this heart.” He pointed at his son’s chest, where a heart lay. “I’m proud of you for getting this far.”

“Thank you, Dad.” The scene before me gave me a teary eye as Striker hugged his dad tightly. “You will always be my dad.”

“I know, son.” When they pulled apart, Tate was wiping his eyes. “Now go. I’m sure you two have somewhere to go.”

“I’ll see you soon, Tate.” I kissed him on the cheek.

“Please, take care of my boy,” he whispered. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” His words froze me in place.

“What do you mean?” I stared at him for a moment, wondering if he ever did me wrong. He loved his son so much to hurt him, but what was that all about?

“Nothing, honey.” He shook his head, and I saw those eyes filled with agony.

I walked out of his office, still pondering what that was all about. Tate was a good man. His son was living proof. I couldn’t think of anything he could possibly do wrong to people.

I couldn’t take my mind off of it. I was probably overthinking it, but it was hard to shake it off. I joined Striker in the elevator when he kissed my hand.

“What’s that all about?” I smiled despite feeling a twist in my stomach.

“I always find it difficult to talk to Dad about Moses. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but you made it easy for me. I know you got my six.”

“My six, huh?”

He chuckled. “My back. Sorry. Old habits.”

“I understand it, though.” I didn’t let his hand go. I kissed it too. “The least I could do after what you did to me.”

“We’re not talking about what happened in bed, right?” His smile was naughty, but I pretended not to care.

“No, Cade.” I rolled my eyes. “What I mean-”

“I know what you mean. I was just messing with you.” He kissed the side of my head. “I will do everything for you. And you know I always get your six.”

“I hope that’s not my back, literally.”

He laughed, the kind of laugh that was free because he was happy. I just watched him laugh, his face lit up, and crow’s feet were on the side of his eyes. He looked genuinely pleased.

“What?” he asked, still smiling.

“I’m just happy for you.”

***

“Am I overdressed or under-dressed?” I asked him again. I was wearing a deep emerald maxi dress with spaghetti straps.

Striker strolled his gaze at me from head to toe once again. “I think you look absolutely stunning.”

“And you cleaned up pretty well, sweetheart.” He wore a classic gray fit suit, making his eyes stand out. I thought he looked hot, and his stance oozed power. “Don’t look at me like that if you wanna be there on time.”

“Bummer.” I hid my smile before I climbed into the car.

“You two look lovely,” Reed said as he glanced through the rearview.

“See? Even Reed said you look lovely.”

“He definitely won’t tell me the truth.” I stole a glance at Reed. “Are you nervous?”

“Why would I? It’s just a dinner. We sat over lunch. He seemed cool.”

“Cool?” Well, that was an interesting choice of words.

“Yeah. Moses didn’t push too hard. He knew his limits, I guess.”

“Well, then. You can let my hand go now.”

He chortled. “I am holding your hand because it’s comforting, and I wanna hold it, not because I am nervous.”

“Just messing with you, Cade. We can always walk out if you feel uncomfortable around him.”

“I’ll be fine, baby.”

Throughout our ride, Striker seemed calm about the whole dinner thing. But he had not sat between his dad and Moses, though. I had nothing to worry about. I guess if the universe wouldn’t play with our fates tonight. And I trusted Striker.

We arrived at the estate. Dad had the most extensive home, but this one was like a royal palace. It was a chateau in the middle of nowhere. The whole thing was huge, and Moses didn’t take his safety lightly.

As Reed drove through the driveway, I felt humbled. Striker never talked about how rich his father was. I knew Moses was extremely wealthy, but it didn’t sink in until now.

“Thank you, Reed.” Striker helped me out as Reed came over to open the door for me.

“This is a pretty big estate.” Reed wandered his eyes around.

“Well, he’s Moses Braddson,” I told him.

Two cars followed-the first was Linden’s, and the other was Tate’s Cadillac.

Striker went to help his dad. “You made it.”

“Breath, Striker. You’ll be fine.” Tate patted his son’s back.

“Why is everyone think I’m gonna collapse?”

I chuckled as I joined them.

“Well, this is something.” Linden joined us. “How are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Let’s go inside,” Striker said as he placed a hand on my lower back.

“Welcome back, Sir,” the butler said.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“Thank you, Emory.”

“Welcome, Mr. Cade, Miss Vanderford, Mr. Linden.”

“Thank you.” I smiled as we followed him to the foyer with a rich, luxurious sitting area.

“Sir Moses will be here shortly,” Emory declared.

We sat except for Striker.

“Are you nervous?” Linden made fun of his best friend.

“No. Why would I?” Striker shoved his hands in his pockets as he made a face.

“Do you need a bathroom?” Linden continued torturing him, making me chuckle.

“No.”

“Take a seat, son.”

“Dad, if he asks something, don’t say yes.” My mouth hung as he rushed those words out.

“Like what exactly?”

“I don’t know. Anything.” He shrugged. “I don’t wanna owe him anything.”

“He’s your father, Striker. Children like you don’t owe anything to parents like us.”

“Just saying.”

Emory came back. This time he wasn’t alone. Moses was with him. He looked precisely like Striker, especially the jawline-the older version. No one would question their relation to one another.

We rose from our seats.

“How are you, Tate? I’m glad you came.” He went to shake hands with Tate.

“For our son.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Mr. Braddson.” Linden extended his hand.

“So do I, Gabriel.” He gripped the hand tight, placing a hand on top.

“Just Linden, sir. And I’m glad you are doing well.”

“Thank you, Linden.”

Then he came to me. “I’m honored to meet the woman who owned my son’s heart. You look lovely tonight.”

We kissed each other’s cheeks. “It’s my pleasure to meet you, Mr. Braddson.”

“Just Moses, London. Can I call you London?”

“Of course, sir. Moses.” I couldn’t help but smile.

“I met your father many times. I hope he’s doing well.”

“Thanks for asking. He is.”

“Very well.” He joined us in the sitting area after he hugged his son.

I couldn’t help but watch Tate’s reaction. He seemed pleased to see his son meeting Moses.

“How are you doing, Tate?”

“Are we doing this?” Tate replied.

He nodded subtly. “Thank you for allowing me to meet my son. I’m grateful.”

“He’s an adult. He can decide for himself,” Tate said proudly.

“You know he wouldn’t see me if you didn’t push him.” Moses had a point. It wasn’t that Striker couldn’t decide on his own, but he had a huge respect for Tate. He loved his dad very much and was scared of breaking his heart.

“Will you please, stop talking about me as if I’m not around.” He sounded annoyed.

Linden just watched them with a smile on his face. I wondered what was on his mind right now.

I placed a hand on Striker’s thigh. He put his hand on top of mine, squeezing it, showing me that he got the message right away.

When Emory came, announcing the dinner was ready, that was the time the little tension between them dissipated.

I sat beside Striker on the dining table while Linden was across us. Moses and Tate are on both sides.

The setting was elegant, with classic candelabras and fresh flowers. The dinner started with hors d’oeuvres.

“You haven’t said a word, Linden.” Moses caught his attention.

“I’m still processing, sir.”

“You had my son’s back for years. Thank you,” he said delightedly.

“My job, sir. And Cade is one of the best men I’ve ever met. He knows that. And we are brothers. That’s what brothers do.” Linden gave a good reply. I gave him credit for that.

“I’m pleased to hear that.” Then his gaze found mine. “How’s LH, London?”

“We’re working on new collections.”

“And your promo is a good gesture. You know how much it means to Striker.”

“What promo?” Striker asked, particularly to me.

“Um, nothing.” I smiled.

“Oh, he doesn’t know? I apologize,” Moses followed up.

“Vanderford, what’s he talking about?” he stared at me. I knew I had to tell him one way or another before things got a little awkward.

“Um, two percent of the entire sales will go to the, um-”

His brow arched, waiting for me to finish my sentence.

“The orphanage,” Tate finished it for me.

“Yeah.” I grinned sheepishly as I felt guilty for not telling him.

“Wait. You did that for them?” The surprised look on his face was cute.

“Um-huh.” I shrugged. “I hope you’re not angry with me for not telling you. It was supposed to be a birthday surprise, but you look already surprised. I guess it still works.” Yeah, like what Reed said, it was the thought that counted.

From surprise, he was now beaming. “The best gift I ever have. Thank you, Vanderford.” He kissed me on my forehead.

“You deserve everything you have right now.”

Instead of the next course, his birthday cake arrived.

“What the-?”