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Taken by the CEO
by Stefanie London

Copyright © 2017 by Stefanie London. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Chapter One

Emmaline Greene had never asked for much in life. Nor did she voice her opinions too often or too loudly. But that was all going to change. Everything was going to change…starting with her name.

What better way to forget that she’d wasted six years of her life being married to a cheating bastard who’d turned her into a trophy wife with no purpose or achievements of her own? The only way she could think to truly bury the easily manipulated person she’d been in the past was to become someone else.

After all, she deserved a new identity to go with her new lease on life. She’d earned it.

“What else am I supposed to call you?” Gracie stared at her as though she’d spontaneously sprouted a third head and declared that she was, in fact, an alien. Perhaps the conversion to extraterrestrial would have been easier for her sister to accept than Emmaline suddenly deciding she no longer wanted to be referred to by her birth name.

“I don’t know.” Emmaline cradled her latte. “I don’t see why it’s a big deal. You changed your name.”

Gracie rolled her eyes. “I got married and changed my surname. That’s a totally different situation.”

“What about Ruby?”

“It doesn’t suit you.”

“I could dye my hair red.” Flame-colored hair would certainly be more interesting than her boring beige-blond. That would shock everyone into seeing her as a different person.

“I’ll disown you,” Gracie muttered. “I was always jealous that you got the blond hair and I didn’t.”

Emmaline wrinkled her nose. Growing up, she’d envied her sister’s dark curls and rich brown eyes. Gracie looked glamorous. Emmaline, by comparison, lacked curves and curls of any kind. The blond hair was the perfectly bland cherry on top of a boring, vanilla sundae. Maybe she would dye her hair…

“What about Gemma?” she suggested.

Gracie frowned. “Do you want to have the same initials as me?”

“Bianca?”

“Bianca means white,” Gracie pointed out, taking a sip of her coffee. “Which would make your name White Greene.”

A waiter arrived with their breakfast and the conundrum of finding a new name was momentarily forgotten. The Wooden Llama café was their weekend hangout. It was a quirky little place that did an especially good poached eggs and avocado smash. Plus, they served their coffee just the way Emmaline liked it—piping hot and stronger than a bodybuilder. This morning it was full to the brim, and the sound of chatter and cutlery scraping against plates comforted her. Any noise at all was preferable to the deafening tomb-like silence of her house.

“What about Adriana?” Emmaline said. “Or Charlotte? They sound like fun names.”

Definitely not as stuffy and old-fashioned as “Emmaline.”

“Em.” Gracie reached across the table and grabbed her sister’s hand. “Just because Conrad was a lying, cheating scumbag doesn’t mean you need to go changing everything about yourself. He did the wrong thing, not you.”

“I want to be a new person, and I want a clean break.” She pulled her hand out of Gracie’s grip. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. But changing your name won’t do anything. And what about work?”

“A simple update to the employee system.” She shrugged. “And work is exactly where I want to start being the new me.”

Her job at the Wentworth Group had been the first step in rebuilding her life. Conrad, the aforementioned cheating scumbag, had always wanted her to stay home and support his business. So, she’d been the perfect wife—cooked gourmet meals, hung off his arm at functions, sacrificed her job, and killed the little voice inside that had always asked but what about me?

Now she was working in the HR department of one of the biggest luxury retailers in Australia. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to prove to herself and her employer that she was top-level management material. And that meant she could be a wallflower no more. It was time to shine and stand out and do all the things she’d been told were “not appropriate” in the past.

“They have this fast-track program where they take the best performers and give them an accelerated career plan. I could be working in a senior manager role in three years,” Emmaline said, sipping her coffee. “It’s highly competitive. I want one of those spots.”

“I am all for this newfound ambition, Em. It’s great, really.” Gracie sighed. “But you need to get out and meet people socially, too. Or take up a hobby. Life can’t be all work and no play.”

Emmaline bristled and speared a piece of bacon with her fork. “I have more in my life than just work.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“Well…” She pursed her lips, searching her memory in an effort to prove her sister wrong. “There’s brunch.”

“And?”

“And I visited Mother last week.” Okay, now she was scraping the bottom of the barrel.

“A visit to Mother does not count as a hobby.” Gracie laughed, her dark curls bouncing as she shook her head. “Do you even know what a hobby is?”

“Of course I do,” Emmaline said through gritted teeth.

As much as she hated to admit it, her sister had a point. A hobby was exactly what she needed to fill her time outside work. While married, her time had revolved around her husband and attending all the events important for his career, hosting his colleagues, and being involved in the charities he deemed appropriate.

She’d been so busy at the time that it never dawned on her that she’d failed to cultivate a life for herself…let alone her own identity. She didn’t have anything that she was passionate about. She didn’t belong to any clubs or groups that weren’t tied to her ex. It was quite pathetic, really.

The new her was going to be very involved in…things.

“There are plenty you could do,” Gracie went on, gesturing with her hands as she spoke. “You could take up some kind of art…or how about crafting?”

Emmaline made a skeptical noise. “You know how clumsy I am. I’m likely to either stab myself or glue my fingers together.”

“What about yoga? Or running?”

She thought for a moment. “Running could work.”

It didn’t require any specific skills, at least not for a beginner, and it would have the added benefit of being good for her health. Besides, taking up a sport meant the opportunity to go shopping for a new outfit.

She tapped her nails against the edge of the wooden table. “I’ll think about it.”

“I want you to report back when we have brunch next week, okay?”

The compassion in her sister’s eyes was too much to bear. Emmaline didn’t want pity. She wanted to get on with her life. No matter how pathetic it seemed it was still her life. She could make the decisions, set her own goals, and decide how to spend her time.

And she wasn’t going to waste a second of it.

“So, what am I supposed to call you now?” Gracie teased.

“Nothing.” Emmaline frowned into her coffee. “I’ll call you.”

…

“Did your first order of business have to be firing someone?”

“Yes.” Edward Parker Wentworth looked up from tying the laces of his running shoes to meet the judgmental stare of his younger brother, Ian. “What? The CIO wasn’t performing and, while I’m aware that you’ve all been able to run amok like it’s the goddamn Jungle Book in there, that’s not going to fly with me. You perform or I show you the door.”

“Me included?”

He ignored the bait and stood, taking a moment to stretch the tired muscles in his back. “And technically I don’t start until Monday, so Arthur fired him.”

“On your orders.” Ian followed him out the front door.

“On my recommendation.”

“You’re such a buzzkill.”

Of course Ian would say that. But the fact was, the Wentworth Group’s IT spending was triple that of their closest competitors, and yet they still hadn’t implemented a new point-of-sale system or updated the online shopping functionality of the company website. Which explained why their customer engagement scores were not only at the bottom of the pack in their latest benchmarking report, they were practically six feet under.

Just like your reputation will be if you don’t get in there and make some changes.

“Did you see they called you Edward in the memo that went out last week?” Ian chuckled at his expression.

“I’ll be fixing that the second that I start on Monday,” he said. While Edward was his legal name, he’d only ever been referred to as Parker growing up. The name suited him better, and Edward made him sound a good two decades older than his thirty-two years. “I’m sure they’ll keep it on all the official stuff, but I don’t want people calling me Edward.”

“Won’t be an issue. I’m sure they’ll be calling you Mr. CEO or Your Highness, anyway,” Ian quipped.

Parker had moved back to Melbourne for the one and only thing that could’ve tempted him to deal with his family again—a CEO position. It wasn’t just a title to him, it was the chance to take over his family’s company and restore the value of their name. A name that his father had dragged through mud.

Parker and Ian jogged down the steps and onto the street. His new apartment was a short distance from Melbourne’s Tan running track, and the leafy surrounds were just what he needed to clear his head. If only he could get Ian off his case…

“Or maybe they’ll call you the Terminator if you keep firing people,” Ian added.

“It’s my job to start picking up the pieces. Arthur has made a right fucking mess of that place.”

“Lighten up, Park. When was the last time you got laid?” Ian snorted. “Or do you only get a hard-on for numbers these days?”

Parker shot his brother a look. “One of us needs to focus on keeping the family business going. You should thank me for protecting your inheritance.”

“I’m looking out for you.” Ian chuckled as they rounded a corner. “You know if you don’t use it, you lose it.”

“I am using it,” he muttered, knowing full well that his brother was winding him up for sport.

“You can’t wait for the perfect woman to crash into your life, you know,” Ian continued. “You have to seize the moment.”

“Is that how you justify slacking off from work?” Parker rolled his eyes. Besides, the perfect woman didn’t exist, at least not one who would agree to his two key criteria:

A woman who didn’t expect to be trusted; and

Someone who was happy to play second fiddle to his career.

Since he knew that made him sound like a jerk, most of the time he didn’t bother. One-night stands were better like that—it was easier to “lose a phone number” than have that conversation and deal with other people’s emotions.

The Tan was packed with runners enjoying the fading summer sun. Lush greenery from the Royal Botanical Gardens surrounded the track and could easily make you forget that the city was just around the corner. Parker and Ian picked up their pace, dodging a group of women with children and finding a clear space to keep their speed steady.

“How can you look at all this and not be interested?” Ian gestured to the people running around them.

The Tan was the place to run in the city and, as such, it attracted some very fit women in some very tiny shorts. But Parker needed more than a great set of legs to tempt him. Despite sticking to casual encounters, he still expected them to have some spark.

“Sorry for knowing what I want,” Parker said, rolling his eyes. “Or what I don’t.”

“More options for me, then.”

“Reverse psychology isn’t going to make me any more attracted to these women because you’ve got it in your head I need to get laid more often.” He shot his brother a look. “I’m perfectly satisfied with my life.”

That wasn’t entirely true. The years he’d spent living in Boston had been crazy. What should have been a work hard, play hard scenario had turned into work hard…then work harder. But one didn’t become a CEO without sacrifice. Anyway, he wasn’t exactly hard up for female company. Since returning to Melbourne he’d caught up with a few old flames who knew not to expect anything long term. But unlike Ian, he didn’t give out details about his sex life to anyone who asked.

“So are you ready for Monday?” Ian asked, breaking the silence.

“Of course,” Parker replied a little too quickly.

He was good at his job—that was never in dispute. But he’d taken on the role of CEO when his father had retired suddenly after a heart attack. Apparently, the old man had started banging on about work-life balance or some bullshit.

But the opportunity presented to Parker was ripe for the taking. He had plans to prove that the Wentworth Group was the future of Australian retail. Drive the share prices up and shake the mud off his family name. Piece. Of. Cake.

“Get out of your own head.” Ian gave him a nudge with one elbow. “I can hear the cogs turning from here.”

“Must be a nice change since your cogs don’t get much of a workout.”

Ian laughed. The insult was flimsy at best. His brother’s breezy charisma was often mistaken as a sign that he was “all talk, no action” but Ian was one of the sharpest businessmen he’d ever known. Whereas Parker was often pegged as the serious, studious type, the younger Wentworth brother was the serial charmer. Like chalk and cheese.

“You really do need to get laid. It might help you loosen up a bit.”

“Your fascination with my sex life is bordering on weird.”

“Someone’s got to look out for Little Parker, because you sure as hell aren’t.”

He snorted. “Creep.”

“And you love it.” Ian’s laughter caught the attention of a pair of blondes jogging past. They smiled and giggled to each other as Ian winked. “Seriously, though, it’s good that you came home.”

“Don’t get all soft on me.” Parker rolled his eyes, but deep down he was grateful for Ian’s support.

The rest of their family might be a total mess, but he counted on his siblings. That was one relationship he could commit to.

They jogged in silence for a while, and Ian was making eyes at a brunette beside them. When the girl stopped to stretch, Ian gave him a wave and followed her. Shaking his head, Parker continued on. No doubt his brother would have her number in his back pocket by the time they caught up again.

Sometimes, he wished he could be more like Ian and revel in a little irresponsibility. But Parker had been deeply affected by their father’s mistakes. Like any high-profile family, skeletons in the closet were pure media fodder, and theirs had been blown out of the water when it came out that Arthur Wentworth was not only keeping a mistress on the side—his secretary, no less—but an illegitimate son, too.

A secret family that he’d managed to hide for over two fucking decades.

The bad stench of that scandal hung around to this day. Which was exactly why Parker was coming in to clean the company up. Arthur’s mistakes might have ruined their family, but he wouldn’t allow it to crumble the company.

Parker went to turn around another corner, and a flash of pink blinded him. The woman trying to get his attention almost knocked him clean off his feet.

“Can you help?” she asked, her voice panicked. “Please.”