Chase: A Secret Millionaire Romance Novel Read online

  CHASE

  A Secret Millionaire Romance

  By VIOLETTE PARADIS

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events reside solely in the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters are eighteen years of age or older.

  This title contains mature themes and strong language.

  Cover image used with permission from Deposit Photos.

  Fonts used with permission from DaFont.

  © 2021, VIOLETTE PARADIS. No portion of this work can be reproduced in any way without prior written consent from the author.

  Gabriel Chase first appears in Rory: A Second Chance Romance. Although these novels can be read as standalone novels, reading them in sequence will give you a fuller experience.

  Bad Boys of Hockey Series

  Logan (A Fake Boyfriend Sports Romance)

  Jack (An Opposites Attract Sports Romance)

  Rory (A Second Chance Sports Romance)

  Cooper (Coming Soon)

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  Table of Contents

  1 - A HASTY RETREAT

  2 - DIRTY LAUNDRY

  3 - SOMETHING SWEET

  4 - MISS MARIGOLD'S HOUSE

  5 - A CLOSE CALL

  6 - A NEW PLAN

  7 - GHOST

  8 - A LEGEND

  9 - JOAQUIN

  10 - HEAT

  11 - BERMUDA

  12 - THE CHASE

  13 - THE WAVE

  14 - SINNER

  15 - STRAWBERRY MOON

  16 - AN OPEN WINDOW

  17 - PHOENIX RISING

  18 - A NEW LIFE

  19 - SWEET MUSIC

  20 - SECRETS AND SURPRISES

  21 - EXIT PLAN

  22 - A NEW DIRECTION

  23 - MAJOR LOVE IN MINOR CHORDS

  24 - FAMILY REUNION

  25 - ON THE ROAD

  26 - ROCK STAR VAGABOND

  27 - DIRTY LAUNDRY (REPRISE)

  28 - PHOENIX

  29 - A REAL ROCK STAR

  EPILOGUE

  1

  A HASTY RETREAT

  Gabriel

  After arriving in New York City directly from Seattle, I head straight to my father’s empty condo in lower Manhattan. As I take the elevator up to the penthouse suite, I shift weight from one foot to the other. I know my father is rarely ever here and probably won’t be here now. He has six other condos around the world—Los Angeles, London, Moscow, Tokyo, Cape Town, and Hong Kong. And even then, he spends most of his time at his luxury hotels around the world. I can’t even remember the last time we were in the same city at the same time.

  Stepping into his large condo, I look around. Although it’s the middle of the day, the lights are on. They’re probably on a timer. I step inside.

  “Hello?”

  There’s no answer, just like I thought.

  I rush to my old room and grab some clothes and some cash, stuffing them in my backpack. I don’t even know where I’m going yet. All I know is that I’ve got to get away.

  After quitting the Blades—my former hockey team—I thought I could hide out in Seattle for a bit. But my father sent his goons to look for me. He thinks he can dictate my life. Well, he’s wrong. Looking around the room, I check to see if I’m forgetting anything. Luckily, I don’t have much stuff. Ever since the incident over a year ago, I’ve learned how to pack light. Now that I know how quickly everything can disappear, I don’t make much of an effort to get too attached to anything. It’s a pre-emptive form of self-preservation.

  My phone rings. Pulling my phone out, I see the name on the screen: Victor. I hesitate a moment before answering the call.

  “You really thought you could send your goons after me, didn’t you?” I say.

  “Gabriel, what the hell are you doing?” My father asks in his strict and commanding voice. “Where are you?”

  “I’m not letting you get me this time.” Grabbing my backpack, I walk across the room and look out the window at the busy New York City street down below. Even though this is one of the nicest luxury condos in New York City, it always feels like a jail cell to me. I always expect to see either the paparazzi or Victor’s security detail lingering outside. So far, all I see are yellow cabs.

  “Gabriel,” he says in a warning tone. “Are you still in Seattle?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I walk into the bathroom and stuff a deodorant into my bag.

  “Where the hell are you, son? I know you aren’t in the Caribbean where you’re supposed to be. Sophie called me and said you weren’t there with her. She’s not happy.”

  “Who cares about Sophie? And who cares about going to the Caribbean? I never signed up for that.”

  “It was in the contract!”

  “A contract that I didn’t sign.”

  It all started a few weeks ago when Victor convinced me to meet the famous actress Sophie Dawson at an innocent benefit dinner. I was already there and I meet people all the time, so I didn’t see what the harm was. What I didn’t know was that Victor tipped off the paparazzi who documented our entire interaction. The papers went wild speculating whether we were together or not. I initially brushed it off but things got crazier a few days later when Sophie Dawson appeared on a late-night show and let slip that she had a new boyfriend. By that point, the rumor was on steroids. When I called her to confront her about it, she admitted that it was Victor’s idea. I should have known he was behind this. Victor has always been a master manipulator. He is an incredible businessman, but a large portion of his success is from his ability to play the media for personal gain. He did it with my mom, and now he’s doing it with me. He wouldn’t have been able to build the Chase brand without that ruthless personality of his.

  When I confronted Victor about the pictures of Sophie, he told me that the relationship would offset my dismal hockey troubles. I wasn’t skilled enough to keep up with the other guys on the team and Victor made sure I knew that. He expected an elite performance to go along with the Chase name. I was tired of Victor breathing down my neck, and it wasn’t fair to the rest of the team to keep dragging them down, especially in my mental state. I still feel guilty that I quit the team but what else was I supposed to do? Victor was pushing me into a fake relationship with Sophie Dawson and things were moving way too fast. I needed to get out, quick.

  “You may not have signed that contract, but I did,” he says. “I promised Sophie that you two would date—or at least appear to date—for three months! Do you know how much exposure she’s bringing to the Chase brand? Sophie is single-handedly fixing the mess you caused by quitting that team!”

  I let out an annoyed grunt.

  “And now you’re ignoring her? Not going on vacation together? All you have to do is go to my Caribbean resort and sit by the pool with her. Is that so hard? Just allow the paparazzi to take a few photos of you together.”

  “How is that supposed to help the Chase brand?”

  “A young glamorous starlet and a handsome eligible bachelor—you two are young, rich, famous… people will look up to you. They’ll become obsessed with your relationship. And when people book their vacations to the Caribbean, Europe, Asia… where do you think all those magazine readers will want to stay? A boring no-name hotel? Or a Chase luxury resort—the same ones that Sophie Dawson and Gabriel Valentine Chase stay at?”

  I laugh. “Gabriel Valentine Chase? You hate that I use that name. You wouldn’t even let me put it on my hockey jersey. And now you’re using it? Let me guess… Sophie Dawson was so obsessed with my mom growing up that she wants to be part of the V
alentine dynasty? Even if she has to buy her way in?”

  Victor doesn’t respond right away.

  “I’m right, aren’t I? You always used Mom when it was beneficial to you. And even now that she’s dead, you still use her.”

  There’s an uncomfortable pause. He’s always quiet when it comes to her.

  “This fake media manipulation stuff is ridiculous,” I say.

  “You’d be naïve to think we’re the only ones who do this.”

  “No, don’t pull me into your manipulative media bullshit. This is not we… this is all you.”

  “What does it matter?” Victor brushes it off. “Do you even understand what I’m offering you? Sophie Dawson is a beautiful, talented young woman. I’m doing you a favor, son.”

  “I don’t need you to do favors for me.”

  “You need to fix this!” The anger jumps out. “You’re the one who quit the team and caused shares of Chase Enterprises to drop several hundred points! I arranged the contract with Sophie to help you clean up the damage. You should be thanking me!”

  “Arranged? Ha! What’s next, an arranged marriage? What am I? Just a piece of property that you can use for your own self-interest? Just a product that makes you money?” With the phone tucked between my ear and shoulder, I walk to the kitchen and stuff a few snacks and a bottle of water into my bag.

  “It’s not for my self-interest, Gabriel. It’s for all of us.”

  “What about what I want, huh? How do you know what’s good for me anyway?”

  “Didn’t I consider that last year when I bought you a spot on that hockey team?”

  I tense my jaw. “You didn’t really do that, did you?”

  “Oh, so you thought you got in on talent and skill alone?” He laughs.

  “You’re a liar and an asshole.”

  “Watch your language!” He lets out a breath of anger. “I knew buying you a spot on that stupid hockey team was a mistake. Those men turned you into a brute.”

  I tense my jaw. “Those men taught me more about teamwork, discipline, and motivation than you ever did!”

  My businessman father always had a disdain for both athletics and the arts. It still boggles my mind that he married an actress as famous as Harlow Valentine. Not only was she experimental when it came to her craft, but she came from a long line of famous thespians and artists. My parents—and the whole world—were curious to see whose footsteps I’d follow in. Would I be a business magnate like Victor Chase? Or an artist like Harlow Valentine and the rest of the Valentine family? When I became more interested in sports, Victor lost interest. Over the years, I figured out that Victor hates sports because he was never athletic in high school. He was intelligent and he resented the jocks for their strength. He sure showed them by becoming one of the world’s wealthiest CEOs. Maybe that’s why he married a high-status movie star like Harlow Valentine, to show off to the jocks who made him feel insufficient back in high school. When Victor gave up on me, I started spending all my time traveling with my mom to movie sets and theaters. Victor Chase’s long absences due to his jet-set lifestyle and busy schedule were the final nail in the coffin for his marriage to Harlow Valentine. Now, Victor lives everywhere and nowhere. Even his condo is devoid of anything personal. There aren’t even photos of me anywhere.

  “Haven’t I been a good father to you?” Victor asks. His voice is raised and angry. “I give you everything you want. I have rooms for you at all my properties. I’m not even asking you to work for me anymore and become a businessman like me. All I’m asking you to do is go on a three-month vacation with a beautiful woman. Have a fake relationship. Hell, have a real one. Enjoy your life while you’re young. You can break up with her in a few months. But we need a good third quarter for Chase Enterprises this year.”

  “You’re unbelievable.”

  “I’ve done so much for you. What else can I do as a father?”

  “Yeah,” I mumble. “What else?”

  Still holding the phone to my ear, I make my way back to my room and look around, seeing if I forgot anything.

  “Listen, if you break the contract with Sophie and bring more scandal to the Chase name, I’ll—”

  “—You’ll what?” I don’t hide the defensiveness in my voice.

  There’s a pause.

  “Tell me,” I say. “I’d like to know.”

  “You’ll regret it,” he says. “This is your best choice.”

  Those words chill my bones. If my best choice is to be a fake version of myself and let others dictate my actions, then something has gone seriously wrong.

  “You won’t find a better life than this,” he says.

  “Watch me.” I end the call. My heart is racing. It felt good to tell off Victor.

  I’m about to put my phone back in my backpack when I stop and reconsider. If I bring my phone, my father or any of the insane paparazzi could potentially trace me. Turning the phone off, I throw it into one of my dresser drawers. I don’t need it. There’s nobody I want to talk to anyway.

  Looking back at my backpack, I wonder where the hell to go. I could just stay here and mess up their plan. I could walk down the streets of New York City and let the paparazzi take photos of me alone while Sophie is in the Caribbean. That would mess up their narrative. But I don’t want to stoop to that level. Besides, Victor and Sophie are so crafty, they would find a way to exploit it. She’d fly back here to walk into the same buildings that I walk into. She’d find a way to get photos with me. I’m not safe from their manipulation games. If they want pictures of me and Sophie together, they won’t get one. I won’t let them.

  When I first saw my face and name on the cover of that stupid gossip magazine, I didn’t recognize myself. Whoever the public thinks I am, they’re wrong. They don’t know me. Nobody knows me. What I need to do is disappear. No more cameras, no more speculation. I just want to be alone. Or at the very least, I’d like to be around people who know the real me… whoever that is.

  An idea pops into my head as I think of the most secret and secluded spot I can think of. I’ll need a vehicle. Grabbing my backpack, I make my way to Victor’s empty home office. I enter the code that opens his cabinet of keys. Each key corresponds to a different Chase-branded vehicle. Victor diversified his business a few years back to include cars and motorcycles, and now he’s getting into electronics—computers, phones, and whatever else he thinks will turn a profit. He’ll never be satisfied. Looking at the keys, I realize I’m not sure which key is for which vehicle, so I grab the shiniest key fob with the most buttons. If I’m going to piss off Victor, I’ll do it in style.

  With the key in hand, I take the private elevator down to the garage. As I navigate the parking lot, I try to figure out which car matches this key. There are multiple sports cars and luxury cars… it could be any one of them. As I push the button on the key, a matte black Chase-branded motorcycle flashes its lights at me.

  “Not what I expected, but I guess that’s my ride,” I say to myself.

  Strapping my backpack to my back, I tie a black bandana around my face to cover my mouth and I pull on the large helmet that’s hanging off the bike’s handlebar. Starting up the motorcycle, I feel the power of the engine rumble between my legs. I smirk to myself. This might end up being better than I thought. Taking a deep breath, I pull the handlebar as the motorcycle whips out of the parking garage. I race down the street toward a highway—any highway—that will take me out of the city and far away from Victor, Sophie, the media, and everyone else… I’ll finally be free to be myself.

  2

  DIRTY LAUNDRY

  Amber

  Sitting in the back seat of the old van, I look out the window at the trees flashing by.

  “Where the hell are we?” Chuck, our lead singer, asks from the passenger seat. His raspy voice sounds like he smoked twenty cigarettes last night. He grabs his head and moans. “I need an energy drink.”

  Another day, another hangover. My band is ten gigs into our first tour. A
lthough I’ve dreamed of going on tour since I was young, my dreams never involved such unsavory band-mates.

  “No clue,” Bob, our drummer, mumbles from the driver’s seat. His voice is all bass. “I thought we’d see signs for Massachusetts by now but we’ve been driving down an empty road for over an hour.”

  Bob is right. We haven’t seen another car in an hour, just trees in both directions.

  “Fucking great.” Chuck knocks his head back against the seat.

  “At least it’s a nice change of scenery compared to what we’re used to,” I say. Sunlight filters through the tinted windows onto my old white guitar and bare legs, which are stretched out in front of me.

  “Whatever,” Chuck mumbles. “What’s the next city on our list anyway?”

  “Boston,” I answer. You’d think you’d know that, I want to say. But I know better than to start a fight with Chuck, especially since we’ll be stuck in this van together all summer.

  “This is the worst hangover ever,” he says, grabbing his head again. “I need that fucking energy drink. How long until the next stop?”

  “Not sure,” Bob mumbles, clearly getting annoyed by Chuck’s whining just like I am. “I have no clue where we are. It could be ten minutes or another hour. I don’t know.”