Ambitious (NeXt Book 4) Read online

  AMBITIOUS

  K.M. SCOTT

  Contents

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  About the Author

  Books by K.M. Scott:

  Books by K.M. Scott writing as Gabrielle Bisset:

  AMBITIOUS

  The exciting conclusion to Cash and Savannah’s story that began in Ravenous!

  The truth of who Cash March really is has been revealed for the whole world to see. Now he must face the consequences for his actions.

  Just as he’s found the woman of his dreams, his very future is threatened. Will she stand by him now that the truth is out?

  All Savannah sees is another promise of happiness being cruelly stolen from her. This time, though, she can save the man she loves.

  But will she take the chance of a lifetime and risk all she has for Cash?

  Ambitious is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  2021 Copper Key Media LLC

  Copyright © 2021 Copper Key Media LLC

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  Published in the United States

  ISBN: 978-1-955335-03-4

  Chapter One

  Cash

  My first visit to the Gainesville police station feels pretty much like I expected it would. It’s not crowded, and other than one guy who looks like he’s been drunk for a month straight leaning against the dingy, off-white cinder block wall across from me, this is a pretty empty place.

  Not that I had any sense I’d ever be sitting here in one of their jail cells waiting to get sprung from here by my lawyer. No, that’s a surprise, to be honest, especially after the great day I was having with Savannah.

  Fuck. She’s probably so freaked out she’ll never talk to me again. First she had to get over her shyness about hiring someone to escort her to her brother’s wedding. Then she had to get past worrying that I didn’t really care about her and was only spending time with her because it’s my job. Now after all of that, she got to watch me get taken away in handcuffs by Gainesville’s finest.

  Not exactly the best ending to a date.

  I wonder if they got Damon too. Probably. I hope he’s been as diligent with hiding his money as he said he would be. He’s sloppy with things, though. That was the whole point in us using cryptocurrencies—to be safe if we got caught. At least then we wouldn’t be facing the slew of federal tax charges the United States government would bring down on our heads for neglecting to pay our fair share of taxes on the business.

  Glancing around at my drab surroundings, I have to admit this cell is better than the ones back home. Well, not actually better since this one and the cell next to it are pretty much straight out of Mayberry, but cleaner, if not as modern as those in Tampa. My one and only visit to that city’s jail happened what feels like a lifetime ago, and then I wasn’t alone in my crime.

  I watch Cade and Liam take turns pacing back and forth across the width of the cell while Alex stands near the door running his hands up and down the black metal bars. Next to me, Wilder slouches against the wall and looks utterly annoyed, like being tossed into this space with the rest of us pisses him off.

  “My father is going to fucking have a fit,” Cade says for the tenth time on one of his passes in front of me. “Local businessman Stefan March loses his mind and kills his only son will be the headline on every news station. Fifteen year old gets yelled at to death. News at eleven.”

  Like with every other mention of how my uncle is going to react to our most recent misbehavior, I shake my head in doubt. “He’ll be fine. It’s my father who’s going to lose his mind. Alex and I will be hearing about how we’ve ruined our lives every day from now on.”

  “And you know Mom is going to be sitting there shaking her head as Dad goes off on us,” Alex says with a chuckle.

  Cade stops in front of him and snaps, “What the fuck is so funny?”

  “You are,” Wilder says, practically growling his disgust. “This is the first time any of you have gotten into trouble outside of school. Fucking relax, for God’s sake. Underage drinking isn’t exactly the crime of the century. I’m guessing they’re trying to scare the shit out of us by putting us in here, but nobody’s going to jail for real.”

  Liam finally stops his pacing and glares at his brother. “I’m eighteen years old, you asshole. You’re seventeen. These three might not get any real punishment, but I’m legally an adult, and this isn’t your first dance with breaking the law. Or have you forgotten that? Did running the car through that guy’s fence and tearing up his fucking yard make your memory disappear?”

  Wilder shrugs like none of this means anything to him. Not the sitting in this jail cell with us. Not the getting in trouble yet again. Not what his mother and father are going to do when they get here.

  To him, it must be all so common to have the cops stuff you into the back of a police car and drive you down here. I haven’t said much since Cade’s done most of the talking for the past half hour, but I’m secretly dreading having to face Cassian and Olivia March. Alex is right. Our mother will sit quietly as our father reads us the riot act, all the while silently shaking her head with a look of such disappointment that everything he says will fade away into nothingness and all that will be left will be the sadness in her eyes.

  Sadness and disappointment.

  Fucking Wilder. Who thought it was a good idea to let him drive home after Micah’s party? Not that he was the only one who shouldn’t have been anywhere behind the wheel, but any buzz the rest of us had vanished the second he jumped the curb and smashed through that metal fence.

  And if any one of the five of us was still enjoying the night after that, when we got out and saw the front end of Kane’s car all busted in with pieces of twisted, silver metal hanging from the grill, any good times ended right then and there.

  “Don’t worry, Liam. I’m the one who was driving. I told the cops that,” Wilder says with another shrug. “If anyone is getting in trouble from this, it’ll be me. They threw the rest of you in here because they think it’s going to scare you straight.”

  Cade flashes him a look of pure anger, and as he stops next to Alex, mumbles, “It’s going to make me want to pound the hell out of him any second now if he doesn’t shut the fuck up.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Wilder throw Cade the finger. Good to see tonight’s adventure hasn’t changed the shitty relationship those two have been cultivating this past year.

  My father’s voice hits my ear, sending a wave of terror through me. “Thank you, officer. We appreciate you bringing the boys here to make sure they’re safe.”

  He sounds anything but appreciative as he bites the words out. Another man’s voice echoes into the cell, my uncle Kane’s. Anger hangs off every syllable as he says, “You can be assured they’ll understand what they’ve
done is wrong.”

  Liam looks over at me with utter fear in his eyes but says nothing. I wait to hear Stefan’s voice, but there’s nothing for a few seconds, and I swear I see utter relief wash over Cade’s expression. Maybe he got lucky and he won’t have to see his father until after he’s heard it from his uncles.

  A tiny smile lights up his face, and he stops to gloat in front of Wilder. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe this won’t be so bad. Well, for me, anyway.”

  The words barely make it out of his mouth when I see my father, Kane, and Stefan appear in front of the cell. Stefan’s eyes are narrowed to angry slits to match his brothers’. So much for things being good for Cade.

  When the cop opens the cell door, Stefan steps in and taps his son on the shoulder. “Trust me. This is going to be bad for all of you.”

  I give my brother next to me a side-eyed glance while my father and his brothers stand like statues glaring at all five of us. Deep inside me in the recesses of my brain, a memory of my grandmother telling me about when Stefan and my father were boys and were known as hellions by her neighbors replays on a loop. Our grandfather used to turn a blind eye to most of the trouble they caused. Maybe now would be a good time to mention that?

  “Exactly what the hell were you thinking?” Kane says in a low voice tinged with rage.

  Maybe some other time might be better.

  Like we always do, all five of us cousins sit silently, adhering to our pledge to never give up a single one of us. I know Cade wants to blame all of this on Wilder, and something tells me this time even Liam would throw his brother under the bus, but we swore years ago when we were just kids that no matter what happened, we’d never do that.

  By the look of anger in the eyes staring down at us at this moment, I get the feeling that pledge is about to be tested. After tonight, it might be every man for himself.

  “Hey, buddy. What are you in for? Wearing white after Labor Day?” the drunk across the cell asks and then laughs way too hard at his own joke, pulling me out of my memories of my teenage self and that wild night with Alex and my cousins.

  I smile and nod as Boozy the Clown continues to find his sense of humor hysterical. “Yeah, something like that.”

  A whiff of the alcohol he seems to have been bathing in earlier tonight hits my nose, and I shake my head to push that disgusting odor away. So much for this being nothing too bad. Now all I can smell is that guy’s stench and all I can think about is how much I don’t fucking want to be here all goddamned night.

  Where the hell is Max?

  A friend from law school, Max Sterling actually graduated from the University of Florida Levin College of Law, unlike yours truly. Top of his class, no less, so I thought of him as soon as the cops clapped the cuffs on me back in my condo parking lot.

  Christ, Savannah was left standing there all by herself. She couldn’t even drive my car back to her house since I had the keys in my hand when the cops came at me.

  I hang my head as the image of her calling a cab and waiting there in the dark next to my car parades through my brain. Fuck. I hate that she had to see me get hauled away, but even worse is how she was left there all alone.

  “Cassian March!”

  Looking up, I see the cop who was sitting at a desk on my way in. Short and round, he reminds me of the security guard at the mall when I was a kid.

  “You’ve got a visitor,” he says dismissively, as if the very idea that someone wants to talk to the likes of me sickens him.

  I follow him out to the dimly lit hallway and down to a room with the door closed. He flings it open and points inside, like I don’t know where to go. As I pass him to walk in where Max sits at a gray metal table, I give him a sideways glance and a tepid smile.

  “Thanks.”

  He doesn’t respond, clearly not interested in striking up a conversation, and slams the door behind me just as I clear it. Max simply shakes his head and smiles, chuckling as I pull out the metal chair and sit down across from him. He always did have a strange sense of humor.

  “Cassian March, who would have thought it?” he asks, thankfully careful not to admit my supposed crime since we’re undoubtedly being watched and listened to in this room.

  “That I’d need your services one day? I would have thought that would be a certainty when you and I were hanging out at all those parties every weekend in our first year,” I say with a smile, hoping he doesn’t sense how scared shitless I feel right now.

  “And look at us now.”

  I do just that and have to admire the suit he’s wearing. Dark grey, very professional, and most likely expensive, it makes Max look just like a lawyer should. His hair is cut shorter now than it used to be, but then again, I’m sure that’s not the only thing that’s changed. I doubt he spends his time getting blasted every weekend like we used to, and I suspect he’s probably not still hanging out with that girl who used to find him at every party, no matter where or when. We used to tease him that she must have LoJacked his car.

  “How have you been, Max? You look like being an officer of the court suits you,” I say with a smile.

  “This job is everything I thought it would be and everything you worried it would be too. Long hours, uncooperative clients, and no social life. Other than this little speedbump, how have you been?”

  “Still single, obviously. Just living the dream. Hey, I’m curious. Whatever happened to that girl who you used to see at all the parties back in the day? Any chance you two still talk?”

  A slow smile spreads across his face, lighting up his dark eyes. “Every morning at breakfast. Tee and I are looking to get married next year.”

  “Ah, Tee.” That’s right. Her name was Teeny, which for some reason was a nickname for Katrina, a perfectly good name that deserves a better shortened version than Teeny. “Well, good for you. Congratulations!”

  Max thanks me and looks genuinely happy before saying, “I handled your bail, so you’re free to leave. The prostitution charge is a misdemeanor, so there’s nothing much to that. The running an escort service charge is a different story, though. You might need someone a bit more experienced in that area of criminal law, but at least I was able to get you out of here tonight.”

  “Thanks, Max. I’ll send you the money for the bail tomorrow, and I’ll have to figure out what I’m going to do after that. I appreciate you taking care of this for me.”

  He stands up, making his silver metal chair scratch across the industrial gray tile floor. “I have to admit I was a little surprised you called me. I would have figured you’d turn to your father for this. I’m sure he’s got some big name attorneys down there on speed dial.”

  I nod and force a smile. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was use my one call to talk to Cassian March III. I have no idea how I’m going to explain any of this to him or my mother.

  “Well, you know how it is.”

  Max has no idea how it is, though. All he’s ever heard from me about my family is how great they are. None of what I told him was a lie. The March clan is great.

  They’re also people who’ve been laboring under the belief that I was attending law school, planning to graduate soon, and about to take the bar exam to become a lawyer. Now all of that is going to be exposed as a lie, so I’m not sure how great they’re going to be anymore when it comes to me.

  And we all thought Wilder was going to forever be the black sheep of the family. So much for that.

  Baaaa.

  “Let me know if you need anything else, Cash. Good luck. If there’s anyone in the world who can get out of this mess, it’s you,” Max says with a chuckle and walks out, leaving me alone in the gray cinder block room with the ugly gray floors and old silver table and chairs.

  Hell of a place jail is. Let’s hope this is my last time to see it.

  Chapter Two

  Cash

  I stare at my front door, unsure what I’ll find when I walk into my apartment. No doubt, the cops have rifled through every last inch of t
he place. Thank God I never leave my phones lying around for just anyone to search.

  Not that I ever would. Between the business and Emily’s tendency to be nosy, nothing was ever safe, even here at home. Those three work phones are safely in the place I always keep them when I’m not here.

  The post office box I rent under the name Cash Lucas and have for the past three years. Being borderline paranoid about things has its benefits.

  As I push the door open and hear that squeak that started about two months ago, I slowly peek in and hope to God the cops didn’t leave the place looking like a goddamned mess. I get that they have their job to do and they had to search for any evidence of the crime they claim I’ve committed, but that doesn’t mean they have to make it look like a hurricane roared through.

  Three steps in and I see that’s exactly what they did. Fuck. Every piece of paper in the place is thrown onto the tables or floor, except for those I’m sure they took with them. They found nothing since I keep not a shred of proof of anything Damon and I are up to lying around, but they probably realized I have a tendency to keep every piece of junk mail I’ve ever received since the day I moved in. It’s an odd habit but one I’ve never been able to break in all the years I’ve lived here.

  The sofa and chair cushions sit turned over on their pieces of furniture in the living room, and the coffee table in the middle of the room looks like someone dumped a year’s worth of that junk mail in the center of it. Scattered on the floor around it are stray envelopes and fliers that slid off the top away from the rest of the pile.