Layla Colton ran the numbers one final time. No doubt about it—this sale would send Colton Energy’s stock through the roof, which would definitely help their sagging bottom line.
It was well after midnight, and the November dark outside carried the chill of winter. Everyone else in the building had gone home hours ago, but Layla considered her office her sanctuary, while the lavish condo where she actually lived felt more like an impersonal hotel room than anything else. She only went there to sleep, shower and eat, preferring to spend as much time as possible here, in her corner office on the executive floor of her father’s company.
Stifling a yawn, she rubbed the back of her aching neck. She needed to straighten up her desk and head home to catch a few hours’ sleep before coming back in the morning.
As she tidied up, her private line rang, the single, long buzz that indicated an internal call. She pressed the button for Speaker, curiosity warring with impatience. “Yes?”
“Security here, ma’am. I have a couple officers from Red Ridge Police Department asking to see you.”
To see her? At nearly one o’clock in the morning? Had something happened to one of her cousins, many of whom worked at the RRPD as K9 officers? Layla’s stomach twisted, and she took a deep gulp of air to help her stay calm.
“Send them up,” she ordered, careful that her cool tone betrayed none of her trepidation. She’d learned the hard way what a mistake it could be to display the tiniest bit of weakness. There would always be someone watching and waiting for the chance to take her down.
Two uniformed officers appeared in her doorway a few minutes later. A third stood a few feet behind them. “Come in,” she said, her gaze searching first one face and then the others.
“Layla Colton?” the taller of the two asked.
Words failed her, so she simply nodded.
“You’re under arrest for stalking, threatening and harassing Mark Hatton.”
“What?” Flabbergasted, she briefly lost her tenuous grip on her refusal to be ruffled. “Have you lost your mind?” Mark Hatton worked for her, first as a junior analyst and then as a salesman. She’d regretted hiring him due to his sloppy work and questionable ethics and had begun keeping detailed documentation as a prelude to letting him go.
“I’m afraid not, ma’am.” The second officer stepped forward with handcuffs. “We have evidence. Emails in your name, texts from your phone number making sexual advances and threatening him when he turned you down.” The disgust in his voice would have made a lesser woman cringe.
“That’s impossible,” she began.
“Is it?” he cut her off. “Tell it to the judge. It’s not only women who are victims, you know. You rich people always think you can get away with anything. Well, not this time.”
A silent scream formed in the back of her throat. No. This couldn’t be happening. Not to her, not now. She’d never threatened anyone a day in her life. And as for making sexual advances to a man like Mark, even the thought made bile rise in her throat. Lies. They were all lies. “I need to call my lawyer,” she said.
“You’ll be afforded the opportunity to do that later.”
She barely listened as they read her rights and stood wooden while they cuffed her like a criminal, the metal cold and hard around her wrists. Still numb, she kept her chin up and her shoulders back as she allowed them to hustle her from her office, down the marble hall, through the lobby and out into the frigid night air to the waiting patrol car. The security officer stood at his desk and watched it all, wide-eyed and clearly stunned.
This would all be on video. There were cameras mounted both inside the building and out. Her father would see. Anyone could see, including Hamlin, her fiancé. He might even decide to make the temporary hiatus they’d placed on their business deal of an engagement a permanent thing. She wouldn’t mind personally, but her father would. They needed Hamlin Harrington’s money to shore up Colton Energy.
What a mess. Her blood felt as icy as the northern wind. She wasn’t a fool—one couldn’t be a female executive in a mostly male industry without making a few enemies. But this? Trumped-up charges that would sound ridiculous to anyone who knew her?
She could only hope word of this wasn’t leaked to the press. She’d be crucified before she even had a chance to defend herself. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, and she furiously blinked them away. Once again, she felt like that little girl who, no matter what she did, couldn’t manage to make her father proud. Even at age thirty-one, she never could seem to make herself stop trying. She’d even agreed to marry a man she didn’t love, just because her father wanted her to.
She’d worked so hard to stay above reproach, and now this insanity. While she had no doubt she’d get this straightened out, it would take time. During which her reputation would be trashed and the multiple deals she had in the works as executive vice president of Colton Energy could fail. She needed those deals—they needed them and their stock to rise. Why would Mark Hatton make false accusations that could jeopardize the company he worked for? If Colton Energy went under, he’d lose his job along with all the others. As would she.
To Layla, working for the family business was more than just employment. Her job, the company, was her entire life. Without it, she had no idea what she’d do.
The drive to the Red Ridge police station seemed to take forever. She ran over a hundred different scenarios in her mind, discarding each one. She had to get this straightened out before her father learned of it.
Finally, they pulled up to the back of the building. The place where she suspected they brought people in to book them. Embarrassment flooded her, even though she’d done nothing to be ashamed about.
“Come with me,” the tall officer said, helping her from the back of the car. He took her arm and led her, still handcuffed, inside.
Due to the lateness of the hour, the squad room seemed deserted. Only a skeleton crew worked these hours, apparently. Lucky for her, as that meant fewer people to stare. She wasn’t particularly close with any of her cousins on the force, even the chief of the K9 unit.
“I’d like my phone call now,” she announced, trying to keep her tone cheery and optimistic.
The officer barely even glanced at her. “Not yet. I’ll let you know when.”
“Layla? Layla Colton?”
She froze. She knew that voice. Hunter Black. He’d been a VP at Colton Energy—and one of her father’s favorites—when he’d abruptly quit to attend the police academy so he could work in law enforcement. Though