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If I Break: Beautifully Broken Part 22

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Is this really happening?

When we pull up to a valet with half a million dollar cars in front of us I wonder where exactly Collin has taken me and if maybe I should text someone and let them know what's going on. I don't know anything about this side of my husband, a side that grooms his hair perfectly. He seems harmless enough and has been more forthcoming than Cal ever has, but he hasn't told me where we are or why we're here. We walk into the beautiful completely filled lounge and the matre de greets us.

"Do you have a reservation?" she asks.

"I am a party of Dexter Crestfield's," he says confidently. She takes a moment to look at her screen and in a moment she smiles brightly. She calls to another waitress.

"Can you show them to Mr. Crestfield's area," she says. We follow behind the waitress and Collin puts his hand behind my back. Ushering me forward.



"What are we doing here?" I ask him. This place doesn't look like Dexter and Helen's style. When we've dined with them it's been at more modern exclusive places. This place, while very upscale, seems a bit mature for them. When we reach the private area my knees almost buckle.

It's Dexter Crestfield Sr. He looks over at us curiously before a wide smile spreads across his face and he gives a signal for the two very intimidating security guards to let us in. Collin starts to move forward but my legs won't.

"What's wrong?" he asks simply.

"I-I don't like being around this guy. What are we doing here?" I ask tightly.

"If you want me to help you, you help me," he says, pulling me forward.

"Lauren, how nice to see you again," he says, standing as the man seated with him at his table does the same.

"Senator Garvin this is my lovely granddaughter," he says enthusiastically.

"She is quite stunning," the senator says, looking as if I was brought in on a tray for dessert. His date, who looks young enough to be my little sister, shifts in her seat as she glances over me.

Relax, I am not your compet.i.tion.

I haven't been in a dress in a while and I pull down the short white c.o.c.ktail dress Collin insisted I wear.

"Senator, if it's not too much of an inconvenience, can you and your guest excuse us? We have an immediate private family matter that we need to discuss," Collin interjects. Mr. Crestfield's eyebrow raises as he eyes Collin, but without missing a beat he turns to the senator and his companion.

"If you could excuse us for just a few moments?"

"Of course," the senator says as he and his date leave the table.

"Now, who is it accompanying you tonight?" Mr. Crestfield says, eyeing me.

"Honey, take a seat," Collin says, pulling out my seat. I take it and Collin does the same.

"We haven't met before, how would you like me to refer to you. Mr. Crestfield?" Collin says sarcastically.

"Is this a joke?" he says, looking at me. I focus my eyes on the table.

"No, this is farce. My name is Collin and, unlike Christopher and Calvin, I remember everything," he says smugly. Mr. Crestfield takes a sip of what looks like brandy and sits it down, appearing unfazed even though my stomach is doing flips.

"What is it that you want?" he asks.

"I want what's owed to us. A third of Crestfield Corporation," he says, folding his hands calmly.

"What?" I ask him, confused.

"I am sorry and what makes you think that you're owed anything that I have?" Mr. Crestfield asks, amused.

"Would you really like to get into those details? Because I, for one, prefer not to repeat myself. Maybe we should have a reporter present for the conversation so everything is on record and there are no misunderstandings," Collin says easily. He and Mr. Crestfield stare each other down for what seems like forever, all while my heart tries to jump out of my chest and make a run for it. I know that something big is being referred to that I have no idea about, and the way Collin just strode in and asked for a third of Crestfield Corporation makes me realize that he knows something he isn't supposed to. Finally, Mr. Crestfield laughs. I glance over at Collin, whose face is like stone.

"I like you Collin. You remind me of a younger version of myself," he says, taking another sip of his drink.

"I too took a lot of risks when I was younger, against men that were more powerful, richer and supposedly a lot smarter," he says.

"Are you sure you want to travel down this rabbit hole with him. Mrs. Scott?" he says, his eyes now on me. No I don't want to go down any freakin' rabbit hole! Even though it doesn't matter now since my name might as well be Alice at this point.

"You talk to me. Only me," Collin interrupts him.

"Okay Collin," Mr. Crestfield says calmly. He makes a signal and a moment later a woman approaches the table.

"Could you bring me a pen and paper please," he asks her.

"Right away Mr. Crestfield." She's back in an instant, handing Mr. Crestfield the items he requested and disappears right after.

"Would you like a drink darling? You look so nervous," Mr. Crestfield chuckles.

"She's fine. You have," Collin looks at his watch, "about two minutes to give me your answer."

Mr. Crestfield just smiles, scribbles something on the paper and then holds it out to Collin.

"What is this?" he asks, irritated as he looks at it. I look at it too. It's an address.

"You may not be very interested in it but Cal is," he says, smiling so widely you'd think he'd just won the lottery. A look of realization comes over Collin's face. He stands up abruptly.

"Let's go, Lauren," he says, grabbing my arm, almost pulling me out of my chair and dragging me across the floor.

"What the h.e.l.l is going on?" I ask him, tired of being clueless in all of this.

"It is Clayton's Rice address," Mr. Crestfield calls out. I look back at Mr. Crestfield, my eyes widening in horror. The grip Collin had on me has completely loosened. I look at his face, the taut expression that he'd worn before gone, relaxed and a smirk replaces it.

"Hey Gorgeous, you look especially s.e.xy tonight."

"Cal?" I ask, hesitantly afraid to hear the answer. Out of all the times for me to want him here, now is not one of them. He walks back over to the table where Mr. Crestfield sits, looking especially pleased with himself.

"It's been a while Cal," he says, a grin on his face.

"Yes it has. You are a lot easier to do business with than your son," Cal says, happily s.n.a.t.c.hing up the address on the table. I rush over to Cal and grab his arms.

"You cannot do this," I tell him tightly. He rolls his eyes and sighs as he continues walking away from me.

"Mellissa, can you make sure that Mr. Scott's car is brought around ASAP," I hear Mr. Crestfield say.

"Cal, this will destroy you. You cannot do this. Cal!" I plead with him. He lifts me off my feet and kisses me, and puts me down "It's going to be fine. Don't worry," he says simply and gives me a wink. I try to keep up with him but it's hard in these five inch heels. I stop to take them off as we're near the entrance and as his luck may have it, our car is pulling up. He walks to the driver's side and hops in. When I run to open the door it's locked. He lets the window down.

"I've got to do this babe. It's all going to work out. I promise," he says and pulls away. I throw my shoe on the ground and rush back into the restaurant to where Mr. Crestfield is.

"Tell me that was a fake address!" I say desperately.

"I have a dinner to finish, if you don't mind my dear," he says dismissively as his companions approach the table.

"You're welcome to join us. However, I think you have more pressing matters to attend to," he says condescendingly. How dare he? How the f.u.c.k dare he? Every bit of intimidation I felt has gone out the window. I pick up the gla.s.s of water in front of me and toss it in his face before quickly heading to the exit.

I don't know what to do. I don't know what the h.e.l.l to do! I don't know who to call, who I can trust. Dexter's father just gave him the exact location of the man he wants to kill. I don't know who can help me. I settle on calling his mom, who doesn't pick up. I groan and call Mr. Scott.

"Lauren. I'm so glad you called," he says hopefully. It's funny how much he's changed.

"Mr. Scott. Do you know anything about Cal's birth parents?" I ask him desperately.

"What. Why are you asking that?" he stutters.

"Collin told me that Cal wants to kill his dad named Clay because he thinks he killed his mother, and we ended up meeting Mr. Crestfield and Collin asked for a third of his company and somehow he knew how to trigger Cal and I think he gave Cal this Clayton guy's address and I'm pretty sure he's on his way there to kill him."

"Wait, what? And who is Collin?"

chapter 18.

Cal I've been waiting on this day for a long time. Dex never came through. I feel stupid that I never went directly to the real source. Dexter Sr.

When Chris p.i.s.sed all over himself after finding out his daddy was s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g his so called best friend I knew my time was coming to take over, but when she told him she had a kid that was his sister, even I couldn't believe that s.h.i.t, and good ol' boy Chris just couldn't take that blow. Unfortunately other greedy p.u.s.s.ies stepped in, trying to keep me from claiming what's mine.

I thought Collin was smarter than that. Asking for a third of Dexter Crestfield's company. f.u.c.king greedy dumba.s.s. Chris' weakness is his feelings, Collin's is he thinks he's so much smarter than everyone else. My weakness is this mother f.u.c.ker's existence sitting tied up in front of me which I'm about to eliminate very soon. I like watching him squirm. I'm enjoying it a whole lot actually.

All of the time I spent looking for him and he was right under my nose. He lived just a few blocks from the house in Venitan. I knew I was close, I just didn't know how close, and I really want to ring those f.u.c.king PI's necks. I'm waiting for him to wake from the blow to the back of the head I gave him. When I saw him I couldn't believe it. The man who causes the same f.u.c.king nightmare for me again and again. It's all going to be over soon though. He'll be dead, the little boy in my dream can have peace and the f.u.c.ker that shot his mother right in front of him will be wiped off the earth.

Then I can live in peace with Lauren and Caylen and all will be well with the world.

After a long a.s.s hour the b.i.t.c.h finally starts to stir. I pull off the bag on his head and his eyes widen, and the small thread of uncertainty that I grabbed the wrong guy is gone. I'll never forget his eyes, I see them in my dream every night.

"What's up, Pops? Remember me?" I laugh at him. I still have the tape on his mouth so he can't speak but he shakes his head, as if the more he shakes it the better his chances are to make it out of here alive. Too bad for him, I don't give a s.h.i.t how he answers my questions-the only way he's leaving this house is post mortem.

"I know you had a thousand little b.a.s.t.a.r.ds running around but see me, I'm special. You remember my mother, Isabella?" I ask him sarcastically. The expression on his face now is priceless. He looks at me more closely and I can see the horror on his face as he recognizes he's met his undertaker.

"Yeah. I think you do," I nod.

"I bet you never expected to see me again did you?" I ask him.

"Then I was a helpless little boy, left crying in the pool of blood after you shot his f.u.c.king mother right in front of his face," I growl at him. He shakes his head again and I can hear him straining to talk.

"Oh, oh it didn't happen like that? You're not the right guy?" I ask laughing and I hit him right on the mouth with the back of my 9 mm.

"f.u.c.king liar. I re-live what happened every night. Every single night. I will never forget your face," I growl at him, disgusted as I see tears pouring out his eyes. I stick the gun right between them.

"Don't you f.u.c.king let one more tear come out or I will start by blowing off your f.u.c.king d.i.c.k,"

"Cal!" I turn around and look back to see Lauren and f.u.c.king William Scott coming down the stairs. Stupid Chris and Dex, I forgot he was having me followed, traitor.

I point the gun at William. Lauren gasps.

"Cal what are you doing?"

"You know as much as I can't stand Chris. I really do owe the guy. Maybe I should just do him a favor and kill your a.s.s too," I joke, but neither of them are laughing.

"Cal, put the gun down," she pleads, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Why the h.e.l.l are you crying, Lauren? This is going to fix everything!"

"He's not going to shoot me, Lauren," William says, way too calmly.

"Oh I won't?" I laugh, aiming at his knee.

"No!" Lauren screams. Ugh. She's ruining everything.

"Both of you get the f.u.c.k out!"

"You're not going to shoot me or that guy in the chair because if you do your wife, the woman that you love, will never look at you the same." Oh cue the violins.

"If anyone knows that it's me, son. Gwen will never ever look at me the way she did before this happened," he pleads. I glance over at Lauren who's crying and is looking at me like I'm the worst person in the world. I go over to Clay and smack him with the gun again.

"This is all your fault!"

"Cal! What do you remember from that night?" William yells.

"I don't have to explain anything to you!" I shout at him.

"Don't explain it to me. Explain it to Lauren," he says. "Get her to understand why you have to do this." I wonder what type of two bit reverse psychology he thinks he's using. I really should shoot him in the f.u.c.king knee.

"Think Cal. What do you really remember?" she asks, sobbing. I let out a groan.

"He shot my mother, Lauren. Right in front of me, he left me there until someone found me," I tell her.

"Who found you?" she asks. I start to answer her but, I-I can't. I don't remember.

"Does it matter who found me?" I ask, frustrated with all of this.

"How clearly do you remember that day Cal? You were five," she pleads.

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If I Break: Beautifully Broken Part 22 summary

You're reading If I Break: Beautifully Broken. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Portia Moore. Already has 1002 views.

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