I rolled my eyes. He made it sound like the apocalypse. None of that mattered. It was superficial at worst. Even disgusting rumours couldn’t hurt us in the long run.
Tess wrapped her arms around her waist, leaning forward. “This is awful. Can’t someone explain?”
Roux held up his hand, his blue eyes grave and bleak. “Then the rumours started flying that Mercer used them for his pleasure. That he killed them once he’d finished—seeing as no one ever saw a harem of women running around his estate. And believe me. They searched.
“Local villagers spread filthy lies about Q inheriting more than just Moineau Holdings but also his father’s side business as well.”
At that my stomach knotted into a trillion pains. Fucking people saying I was like him. It didn’t matter they were lies. It still tarred me with the same brush. Still made me seem like the monster I never wanted to be.
“But that’s not true!” Tess cried.
Frederick pursed his lips. “International law enforcement got involved; they seized most of our files—not that they’ll find any wrongdoings there. We’re pristine in every area of the business.”
I snorted. Yes, everywhere apart from my red binder full of sadistic sons of a bitches, bribes, dates, and names of the girls I’d taken as payment for buildings constructed on their behalf. I’d broken the law by dealing with criminals, but in a business point of view, we’d done nothing wrong. I delivered a service for a transaction rendered. It didn’t matter I used a barter system of women rather than capital.
Tess twisted her fingers. “Someone has to sue them for slander, surely. How can they say such a thing?”
Frederick held up his hand, a smile tugging his mouth. “But then other villagers stepped forward claiming Q was nothing like his predecessor, and they had it all wrong. Local doctors broke their Hippocratic Oath to stand up for Q, explaining his outstanding care of the women who’d been broken by bastards. And that’s when the local police chief came forward and spilled the truth.
“No names but an approximate tally of all the women Q saved along with a guestimate on dollar value of what he’d spent repairing what others had broken.”
Tess swivelled to face me, her eyes glowing with unshed tears. She looked at me as if I were some celebrity or even worse…a god. I wasn’t. She knew that. Shit, I’d f**ked her like a beast possessed only a few hours ago. She knew me better than anyone at how close to home those first rumours were.
Frederick muttered low, purely for my ears. “Thanks to them they saved your business, but no thanks to them they’ve taken—”
“Enough, Roux.” My eyes narrowed, warning. Tess didn’t need to know the other rumours. The ones whispering in the dark alleys of misery. They’re coming. And there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Tess went white. “So…what happened?”
Roux fell silent, waiting for me to answer. None of this was interesting. It was a waste of time. A waste of precious f**king time where I could be kidnapping her somewhere else.
Time.
The traitorous bitch was once again working against me. In more ways than one.
My heart hammered. “Nothing until someone”—and if I ever found out whom, I’d shoot them—“told a tale of how a woman I’d saved from traffickers in Mexico fell in love with me. They spun a ridiculous love story of a man berserk with terror when those same bastards came back for her to teach him a lesson.”
The tears in Tess’s eyes broke the confines of her lashes, trickling down her cheeks. My heart physically hurt at the love beaming from her—it was tangible, heating, hugging me.
“Online tabloids and international magazines spread the story like wildfire—embellishing, editing, but ultimately getting it surprisingly right. And when the news got out I’d found you but you were almost irreparable—well, that’s when the phones started ringing for an entirely different reason.”
Tess didn’t say a word, blinking in shock. My headache grew as stress layered my system. I didn’t want to talk about this. I’d deliberately kept it from her—I refused to let myself think about it as it made me feel…I didn’t f**king know. Humbled. Honoured. Amazed. I felt loved by more people than I’d ever met, and after a lifetime of never being cared for, I had no idea how to deal with it.
“So what happened?” Tess prompted.
I laughed softly, unable to believe what the future of my company—my father’s company—faced. “Being heralded as a saviour didn’t exactly ruin my image. It didn’t matter people were calling me sick and so entrenched in the underworld they couldn’t believe a word of truth.
“There were more people who believed in the good than the bad, and it’s been used to my advantage.” Taking her hand, I pulled her toward me. My muscles shuddered as her warm weight rested along mine. Her hair tussled over her shoulders; smudges of sleeplessness marked under her eyes. “You’re going to be the face of the new Moineau, Tess. Be prepared.”
Her lips parted. “Wait…how?”
Frederick jumped in. “The forty-eight percent of investors we’d lost were rapidly replaced with smaller donations, lesser scale projects, and a lot of interest to join Q’s crusade against trafficking.”
Tess turned in my arms, annoyance shining on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
“That’s not all,” Frederick continued. “His good deeds will be recognised by the prime minister himself. Q’s business no longer deals with the filth of the world in order to save the innocent. Rather, he is now supported by organisations who will fight against that filth by pooling resources and authorities Q didn’t have on his own.”
My heart thudded, sending heated blood through my veins at the thought of all the extra women I’d be able to save but never see. All the sorrow I could fix; all the families I could reunite.
My company had branched out. Property and slaves. Who knew there would ever be a correlation.
Frederick beamed, his blue eyes practically blazing like daytime stars with happiness. “Moineau Holdings is no longer just a property empire. In fact, half of the company’s equity has been channelled into a new venture under the Moineau umbrella.”
Tess froze beside me, holding her breath.
“The latest enterprise is called Feathers of Hope, and we’ve donated exactly half of all Moineau’s proceeds to fund the worthy cause.”