C.D. SAMUDA

  Dangerous Intentions

  DANGEROUSLY WILDER BOOK 1

  Published by Yorkside Press

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2019 by C.D. SAMUDA

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by mimeograph or any other means, without the expressed permission of the author or publisher.

  For information contact:

  Yorkside Press

  admin@yorksidepress.com

  Author contact:

  www.cd-samuda.com

  books@cd-samuda.com

  https://facebook.com/cdsamuda

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  1 – Gage

  2 – Gage

  3 – Gage

  4 – Rayne

  5 – Gage

  6 – Gage

  7 – Leroy

  8 – Rayne

  9 – Gage

  10 – Rayne

  Gage

  11 – Rayne

  12 – Gage

  13 – Gage

  14 – Rayne

  15 – Gage

  16 – Gage

  Warning

  This novel and subsequent books in series contain mild to moderate instances of violence, strong adult langue and sexual situations that are on suitable for mature audiences.

  Trigger warning

  Violent situations involved

  Subscribe mailing list to receive an exclusive copy of the prequel to Labyrinth, my #1 Bestselling Romantic Medical Suspense. CLICK COVER!

  Prologue

  Five years ago…

  “Good evening Mr. Gage,” the security guard greeted me as I disembarked my private elevator that opened directly to my office floor. Wilder Industries – a retail management company occupied the entire twenty seven floors of the Wilder building, built by my father some three decades ago.

  With a nod of my head I acknowledged the security guard before quickly slipping into my suite of offices. One of the board members had asked for a confidential meeting that night. It was near midnight and I was curious as to why Mr. Bainbridge wanted to meet at this hour. The man had expressed some anxiety over the phone and said it was a matter of urgency.

  Dropping my briefcase into the leather bound chair, I loosened my tie and took off my jacket. After setting down my jacket over the backrest, I dialed Bainbridge’s number to see if he’d arrived at the board room as we’d discussed earlier. There was no answer. After several more tries, I left my office and walked down the passage that led to the small board room used for executive meetings.

  The main board room was on the top most floor where my father’s empty office was located. After the death of Roman Wilder, the president’s chair was left vacant. I became CEO while my father was still alive and should have occupied the president’s position as expressed in his will. However, I declined to do so because it would mean having less hands on control of day to day operations.

  Therefore, I opted to leave that position vacant, at least for the time being. It was not only his desire to see me at the head of the company, he’d left me shares in the Wilder Industries which amounted to forty-two percent, plus the shares I’d acquired on my own. Leroy was given two shares and Braun ten shares. Always assumed that Leroy received only two shares because our father thought he would not know their value.

  With a fifty-two percent share in the company, I was not only the chairman of the board, the president’s chair was my right. Still, I wanted to wait. Taking my father’s position less than a year after his death did not feel right. Especially when his death was so sudden, having suffered a massive stroke.

  With my mother, we’d prepared ourselves for the likeliness of her passing since she had been diagnosed with brain cancer. She’d started to deteriorate and there was nothing the best doctors in the country could do to save her.

  As I neared the boardroom, a grunt and a soft thud caught my attention. I paused to listen but heard nothing more. Satisfied that nothing was amiss, I continued down the passage. When I arrived at the boardroom, the light was on and the door ajar.

  “Bainbridge, you in there?” I called out, gripping the handle of the door before pushing it wide open.

  With my hand still on the knob I peered inside before entering. My eyes did not immediately register anything peculiar. It was when I was about to withdraw back into the passage, that I noticed a boot sticking out from behind the table on the left. Entering the room, I came up to where the body lay and saw that it was no other than Bainbridge.

  “What the…?”

  The expletive left my lips as I noticed what appeared to be a gunshot wound on the man’s forehead with blood oozing from it, pooling around his head. Kneeling beside the body, I felt for a pulse at his temple. It was faint and the body was still warm. A low gurgle erupted from Bainbridge’s throat as his body twitched.

  Rising to my feet, I absently touched my ear for my Bluetooth earpiece, only to remember that I’d left it in the jacket pocket because it was hurtling my ear. I needed to have it changed. Reaching into my shirt’s left breast pocket I took out my phone, speaking the code to unlock and then voice dialing the emergency number.

  It didn’t take long for the operator to reply. While I explained the situation, it occurred to me that whomever had shot Bainbridge might still be in the building. After hanging up with the emergency operator I called the security office and ordered that they secure premises until the police arrived.

  Since this was a shooting, the police arrived around the same time the paramedics did. Confusion beset me as to what happened. Why did he want to talk to me and what was so secretive about it? Now he might be dead. What perplexed me even more than anything was who could have entered the building and shoot the man without anyone hearing anything?

  “Mr. Wilder,” a uniformed officer walked over to me. “I’m Sargent Brown. Can you tell us what happened?”

  I gave the same information that had been playing in my head since walking into that boardroom. “I was supposed to meet Bainbridge after he called and told me he had something important to tell me. I called his cell phone several times after I arrived in the building. When I did not receive a response I came to the boardroom and found him like this. I called 911 immediately.”

  “Do you have any idea what he wanted to talk to you about?”

  My hand came up and gripped the back of my nape. “No idea. He made it seemed urgent and confidential.”

  “And you have no idea who could have done this?”

  “No, he’s a member of the executive board, he used to work closely with my father and has been supportive of me as CEO.”

  The officer nodded while writing on his digital notebook with a stylus. We spoke a few more minutes before being interrupted by another uniformed officer.

  “The coroner is on his way.”

  Officer Brown sighed. “Have the entire building secured. No one comes in or go out.”

  The coroner arriving meant that Bainbridge was dead and Wilder Industries was now a crime scene. More police arrived to secure the perimeter and to gather everyone that was presently in the building. It was late night, the only people there were the cleaning staff and security guards. The police asked me to step out of the boardroom to allow the arrival of the detectives, forensics team and coroner.

  I spent the next several hours pacing my own office while the police took statements from the cleaning staff and security personal, swabbed fingers and took prints. Since I was the one who called it in, mine were the first hands to be checked for gunshot residue.

  Information came in during the course of the night that a weapon was found in the dumpster just below the emergency exit. The first thing the police would do was to check if the weapon was recently fired. If so, then finger prints and a ballistics test were next.

  While waiting for the police to inform me of their progress, I called my fiancé. As usual she was waiting up for me. As I spoke with her over the phone, she managed to calm me down, always knowing exactly what to say to make me feel better.

  “Rayne, go to bed,” I told her. “I can’t leave until the police clear the area. It’s a crime scene and I want to know who the hell did this in my building.”

  “I can’t sleep anyway. Should I come over?”

  “No one gets in or out until the police have a suspect.”

  “I miss you,” she lamented and I knew she was pouting. “You’ve been gone all day.”

  “I’ll see you in a few hours and I miss you too.”

  A knock at my office door prompted me to say goodnight and end the call. Upon opening the door, four police officers entered my office. The look on their faces were militant and I knew something was about to go down.

  “What’s the matter officers, did you find a suspect?”

  Officer Brown approached me. “Based on our initial finger print and gunshot residue check, you are that suspect Mr. Wilder. You are under arrest for the death of Lenworth Bainbridge. You are to remain silent as anything you say or do can be used against you in a court of law. You are entitled to an attorney and if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the state. Do you understand these charged Mr. Wilder?”

  I stood transfixed, attempting to assimilate the last few seconds and the policeman’s words. It was as though I had been transported into an alternate universe, being arrested for murder. The cold metal of handcuffs snapping onto my wrist shocked me back to reality.

  “Yes, I understand the charges. I understand re

ally well.”

  1 – Gage

  Shielding my eyes from the glare of the midmorning sun, I stepped onto the vacant street. After adjusting my eyesight to the brightness of the outside world, I straightened my tie and brushed a lint from my tailored jacket. That suit had been inside those walls as long as I have been and I was surprised it was still intact. Choosing to wear the same suit I was wearing when I got arrested and when I got sentenced was symbolic.

  I was determined that this outfit would be the one I’d wear to reverse the hand of fate that had been dealt to me, starting with my release from prison. I’d wear it each time I caused my enemy to cry, sweat, scream or die– whatever came first.

  Behind me stood the maximum-security facility I’d called home for the last five years. After closing my eyes for a second, I glanced back, gritting my teeth and setting my jaw. Inside my chest, the bitterness churned as I anticipated the coming days. One thing was certain – I would not rest until things returned to their rightful place.

  “Gage!” a voice shouted from a few feet away.

  Squinting in order to see through the glare of the blazing sun, I made out a figure trotting over to me - the only one who had remained loyal for the half a decade I’d been incarcerated. Seeing my younger brother, Braun always brought a sense of warmth. He was the one thing on the outside that kept me motived. I needed to make things right for him as much as for me. I was all he had and I would not let him down.

  In reality, Braun was dropped off on my parent’s doorstep when he was only a baby. His mother was a known junkie who never knew her right foot from her left eye at any time. She was always high and when she left the baby and disappeared, it was speculated that she had no idea who the father was. No one ever heard from or saw her again.

  My parents adopted the baby as their own, giving him the family he needed. It was when Braun was much older that he discovered the truth about his paternity. It was a devastating blow to find out the truth, but our family unit was close and we all helped him through it. I was there to make sure he knew he would always have me as his big brother.

  I brought my attention back to him and the pure delight registered on his face. If there was anyone I trusted more than myself it would be Braun. The bond between us was unbreakable and I intended to keep it that way. I wish I could say the same about my elder brother, the one who caused me so much pain. But there was no going back to the brotherly love I though we once shared.

  “Here,” Braun shoved a block of white matter into my hand, interrupting my reverie. “I read that Koreans eat tofu when released from jail.”

  “I ain’t eating no damn bean curd,” I growled, turning over the tofu in my hand.

  “If you don’t, bad luck will follow you and you might end up back there,” Braun insisted, jutting his head toward the large building behind them. “Eating this symbolizes that you are out with the old and in with the new.”

  I stared at him a moment. “A new chapter you say?”

  Braun nodded, prompting me to turn and view the humongous prison building I just left. The muted sounds behind those high walls were audible to me. Somewhere inside thugs were trying to kill each other. One had to be tough to stay alive. Absently my hand came up to touch the scar that ran along my cheek as I recalled my first day inside five years ago. I’d just been sentenced and transferred from the county jail.

  “Hey you, pretty boy,” said a big burly fellow with multiple scars on his face. “That’s ma bench you’re sitting on.”

  Pretty boy was a bit of a stretch. Yes, I was quite attractive and I admit that I’ve had women salivate over me with my hazel eyes which contrasted with my deep tan and dark brown hair. Not to mention that I kept in shape and knew how to keep with the latest trend in fashion – well that was my fiancé’s doing. But no one ever called me a pretty boy.

  I cruised the monster from head to foot concluded that he was one such fellow who viewed men as pretty. I had no issue with that. My problem was with the damn bench I was sitting on.

  I’d been told I could hang out in the courtyard whenever I wasn’t on bathroom duty. Yes, my first assignment had been the cleaning of the shitholes. Having never cleaned my own fracking bedroom at home, I had to learn fast. My chores were only just completed and I needed a place to relax in order to get the stench from my lungs. Most of all, I needed to think. As I entered the courtyard, I spotted the bench. No sooner had I sat down when this fellow showed up.

  The big man stood with his arms folded across his chest. Those arms were almost larger than my thighs. A few others which were obviously his posse, stood behind him. Glancing over the bench, I then shook my head.

  “I don’t see your name on it,” I challenged. “Is your name invisible or something?”

  The boys parted and two went to stand behind me while ‘Burly’- as I liked to call him - closed in. In no mood for a fight, I braced himself for the inevitable.

  “Look,” I said, rather calmly although I felt my ego overriding my rationale. “I don’t want to hurt you, so just let me be, huh?”

  Burly laughed. “Hurt me? Ha-ha-ha,” his voice thundered that the other inmates across the courtyard fell silent and a crowd started closing in. “This fellow here says he doesn’t want to hurt me,” he addressed the multitude.

  Leaning back, I crossed one leg over the other. What would it take to get rid of these guys? Glancing to the right and then my left, I noted the two standing behind me ready to grab me at the behest of their lord. At that moment I knew I’d have to be smart about getting out of this one.

  “Yes,” I replied, cocking a brow. “You must be a pussy if you need five goons to help you take your bench back. It’s obvious you’re scared or you wouldn’t need a posse to take out the new guy.”

  Burly scoffed. “Me, scared of a scrawny fellow like you?”

  Still feeling somewhat cocky, I chuckled. Scrawny wasn’t exactly a word I’d used to describe myself, but compared to the giant before me, I could understand the description. At six feet three and a former college quarterback, I had my fair share of muscles. Although I worked out three or four times per week, I was sure no match for the man standing in front of him. Still, I was no coward and certainly would not back down from a fight.

  The large man made a motion with his head and the posse backed off. This amused me. Taunt a man and his ego sets in. The man advanced, standing so close that his humongous feet crushed my toes sending a shot of pain up my leg. A glimmer of a wince crossed my face, but as not to give my opponent the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, I set my face and forced a smile.

  I knew I’d perhaps get my ass kicked ... no, it was highly probably I would. Knowing I was no match for this man and his friends, I had to use my intellect – something I knew they lacked. Somewhere in my past I’d learned about the human body and as though the universe saw my plight, that lesson came back to me that day. Vital points. I was no martial arts expert, but I knew little about the human’s vulnerable areas. I took a few seconds to scan the expanse of the figure before me, pinpointing his vital target areas.

  Of the multiple target zones, I narrowed them down to the most sensitive. I briefly wondered if Burly knew those zones and if he’d taken precaution about protecting them. I doubted that very much. My gut told me that my new friend wasn’t so bright that he wouldn’t know what vital points were if they hit him in the face.

  Most people in a fight aimed for the groin first, or the knees, they were completely off. Slowly, I uncrossed his legs. “Look, I am not in the mood to fight, so run along and find another bench.”

  Burly reached down, grabbed me by the collar, pulling me to my feet. Although the fellow was huge and I knew he must be strong, I clearly was surprised by the way he lifted me as though I weighed nothing more than a feather. So if I was to throw him off guard, I would need to attack first. With a tight fist, I threw a punch to the man’s face. It landed on his nose. Burly flashed his head, blood oozing from his nose.

  “Today you die,” Burly said, his deep throaty voice more menacing than before.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9