Submitting to My Best Friend's Dad by Scarlett Rossi
Chapter 135 -

James.

After the incident that I had with Ronaldo in regard to the meeting I had with his father, I had made sure to keep him informed every single step of the way because the last thing that I wanted were issues with my cousin that could easily be avoided. Deciding to take the day off from actually working, I made my way down toward the lounge area that my uncle had at the back of his large estate.

It reminded me quite a bit of the veranda that I had back at the mansion in Miami, a home that was now lost to me permanently. I was quite aware that Becca sold the home to my cousin, and even though he would use it here and there, for the most part, it stood vacant.

I wasn't pleased with the idea of having my cousin completely go in and renovate a home that I had spent many years perfecting, but it was my fault that I lost it, and I was going to have to live with that.

Not to mention that home without my daughter Tally, where she had lost her life, was not a home that I wanted to be in.

The moment that I entered the lounge, peace fell over me, and I was pleased to replace that nobody else was occupying it. Honestly, I wanted some peace and quiet for myself without having to worry about somebody else wanting me to entertain them for the day.

It seemed to be the gist of what I had been doing lately. Every time I wanted peace and quiet, somebody else wanted me to inform them of stories of things that had happened to me since I had gone from being the top man in Miami to being in witness protection and then landing in the protection of my uncle.

It was as if they had found amusement in the struggles that I was currently going through. I didn't ask to be in this situation, nor did I ask for my uncle's help. I probably could have sorted it myself. The problem was, you didn't say no to a person like my uncle. If he offered help, you took it whether you wanted it or not, and therefore, I had gradually become the laughing stock around his home, just behind closed doors.

If the people here didn't think I knew, they would be wrong. Just like my uncle knew everything that was going on, I did too.

Except for the complete details of what Ronaldo was up to. Those details escaped me, and everything I thought I was getting closer to the answers, I hit a dead end. Part of me wondered if my cousin knew I was checking into him and purposely was throwing up distractions to divert my attention.

Walking towards a small bar area in the lounge, I quickly picked up a crystallized bottle with a brown amber liquid and poured myself a glass. My uncle only drank the best of the best, and as soon as I brought the cool, refreshing liquid to my lips, I sighed with satisfaction at how well it tasted. The whiskey was a good year, and knowing my uncle, he had spent a lot of money on it.

Making my way towards the white sofa that sat off in the far right corner of the room, surrounded by tropical plants that I had no idea even were able to thrive in this kind of climate, I attempted to bury myself in meditation and reflection, as my therapist now called it.

Therapy was a whole new thing. I didn't want to go to it, however, my uncle said there was nothing wrong with the man who needed to seek help. After I met with him the other day and he saw how stressed I was over the situation with Becca, my grandchild, and my daughter, not to mention the Neal and Allegra situation, he had taken it upon himself to insist that I seek therapy. And once again, you don't tell somebody like my uncle no.

I had been completely against it, but after two sessions, I realized that perhaps my uncle had a point. Perhaps therapy actually wasn't that bad of an idea. Everything was protected, of course, patient-doctor confidentiality and whatnot, but also, this particular therapist only worked for my uncle, and therefore I knew that if she opened her mouth, my uncle would have her killed without a second thought.

Halfway through my meditation that I had been recommended to do, my phone began to ring, and a groan escaped my throat laced with irritation. I didn't want to have to deal with anybody's bullshit today.

Yet, when I looked down at that caller ID, I saw that it was Neal that was calling me, and instantly, I sat upright, setting the crystal glass down on the table and hitting the button to answer.

I hadn't spoken to him in some time, and as soon as his voice came through the other end of the phone, my heart almost stopped. "James, we need to talk."

"What happened? Did something happen to Becca and the kids? Is she okay?" I asked him quickly, stumbling over my words out of fear that something had happened to them, and I hadn't been there to protect them. "What?" Neal muttered in what sounded like disbelief. "They're fine. However, I need to know, do you have someone here watching us? Watching her in particular. Don't f*cking play with me, either. I need to know."

I did, and the somebody I had there, a woman, was looking in on them every now and again and also checking out properties for me in case I decided that I wanted to jump this sinking ship that my uncle called his home and move to New Zealand to try to reunite with Becca in some odd way without her been completely freaked out that I wasn't actually dead.

Sighing once more, I pinched the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes as I took a deep breath. "I won't lie to you then. Yes, I do have someone that is there, but not just looking at Becca and definitely not to watch you. They are there to scope out the area just so that I have peace of mind and know that everything is okay."

"That's f*cked up, James. You know damn well that I'm quite capable of taking care of her," Neal snapped through the phone, obviously boiling with rage because I had someone there watching them.

"Well, how am I supposed to know that, Neal? With the way that you just cut me off as if she's your property to do with as you please, that is not how this works. She needs to know that I'm alive, whether you want to tell her or not." I knew that he wouldn't tell her, which was the reason why I wasn't worried about why he was acting the way he was lately. My spy told me of Neal's paranoid state. How he was making rash business choices and even taking late-night trips to meet men in town who were of a shady sort. All of which I didn't like.

If Becca knew that I was alive, she would choose me over him. I was almost certain of that, even though in the beginning, they had such a very close relationship. It was obvious from what I had been told he had become a loose cannon, and she was growing tired of him.

All of which was speculation, of course, but a man could hope that it was true.

"She doesn't need to know shit, James. The less she knows, the safer she is, and if you care about her at all you will agree with me instead of putting her in danger like you are."

"Danger? She isn't in danger. Unless there is something you aren't telling me." My words came out a little more aggressive than usual, and as I sat up a little straighter, gripping my phone, I waited for his reply.

"She will always be in danger until every one of the f*cks is dead, James. Now call off your man and tell him to stay away from Becca."

My man? I didn't have a man watching her. "What are you talking about? I don't have a man watching her. It's a woman..."

A million and one thoughts ran through my mind, and the top one was who this man was that Neal was referring to. Who was it that was watching my family, and how did they manage to even get a thousand feet within her? "Damnit, Neal! Answer me!"

"I don't know. Allegra told me that when Becca and her father went to the market today, she saw a tall, blond-haired man who was watching her. That she thought she was being paranoid and played it off but that he appeared at her car and suddenly offered to help put the stroller in the car-"

"Did you check the car for a tracker? I asked, quickly cutting him off. If he helped her near the car, he may have planted something on her. Something that could be used to trace her every movement and allow them to snag her and the kids alone.

"No, I haven't. I only just found out. That is my next task..." Neal growled out with aggravation.

"You should have already done that!" I yelled in response.

"Don't tell me what I should have already done. The last time I checked, you weren't f*cking here, and you were the reason why she was in this mess to begin with. I'm sick and tired of you thinking you own her or are the only one who knows what's best for her."

His words struck me hard. I was the reason why her once planned out and happy life was completely turned upside down. I destroyed her life, her happiness, her future. I made it almost impossible for her to be safe because I had too many loose ends to still wrap up, and because of that, Neal was partially right.

"Look, I'm not trying to argue with you. Just tell me what you know so I can help. I can't let anything happen to her, Neal, I love her and always will."

Neal was silent for a moment after hearing what I said. The only sound that came through, letting me know that he was still there, was the heavy sigh that escaped his lips and the sound of ice in a glass.

"I honestly don't know what to tell you, but I do know I don't like you at all. In fact, I f*cking hate you, James. You ruined everything that I wanted, but I think I may need your help on this. Just don't let Becca know anything. If she knew you were alive right now, it would be bad."

"I understand." My response was tight-lipped, and not completely happy, but if it was what had to happen in order for me to be able to help him then so be it. Someone was there in New Zealand, and I was halfway around the world unable to do anything but make calls.

"Good. I'll call you soon. We have work to do," Neal replied, hanging up the phone.