Reckless Romeo: Cocky Hero Club Production Read online




  Reckless Romeo

  Cocky Hero Club Production

  Sienna Snow

  Copyright Page

  Copyright © 2020 by Sienna Snow and Cocky Hero Club, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Editor: Jennifer Haymore

  Proofreading by: Jennifer Haymore

  Photo Credit: Shutterstock

  Formatter: Sienna Snow

  Contents

  Cocky Hero Club Production

  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

  Epilogue

  Books by CHC Authors

  About Sienna Snow

  Books by Sienna Snow

  Reckless Romeo is a standalone story inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s Stuck Up-Suit. It's published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward's New York Times bestselling series.

  Chapter One

  Leo

  “Leopold Christopher Vaughn, we have a problem, and it involves your face on the front page of the newspaper.”

  I turned to find my father, Damir Vaughn, stalking into my office with a scowl that meant I was in some type of shit or another.

  “Good morning to you too. I take it there’s some kind of problem.”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know.” His Belarusian accent was thicker than usual, revealing his agitated state. “You’re thirty-two years old. I would expect better from a teenager.”

  I thought back to last night. I’d had drinks with my cousin and a few friends at a local bar near my penthouse, and then I’d gone home to spend the night reviewing contracts for a long-term flight deal I’d negotiated for Vaughn Transportation.

  And then there was the incident with the hot blonde, who turned out to be trouble. My gut said it had to do with her. But it was better to pretend I had no idea what Pops was talking about, just in case he was upset about something else.

  “Want to tell me exactly what I did?”

  He threw a paper on the desk. “This is only one of them.”

  I stared at the headline of a popular national gossip rag.

  “CEO Caught Leaving Bar with the Wife of a Prominent Director.”

  Well, fuck. This was not what I wanted to see.

  There was a picture of Olivia Ridder Whitaker kissing my cheek as she stood on tiptoes. Her hand was pressed against my chest in a gesture that looked more intimate than it actually had been.

  I should have known when the leggy blonde with the gorgeous face and large breasts all but threw herself at me that she was trouble. It had been two weeks since I’d last gotten laid, and I’d been open to what was offered.

  I wouldn’t call myself a man-whore or anything, but when one worked sixty- to seventy-hour weeks, sex was a great stress reliever.

  I ran a hand through my hair. “It’s not what it seems.”

  That sounded lame even to me. But what was I supposed to say? Hey, Pops, I didn’t sleep with her. I picked her up at a bar when I was trolling with my buddies. Yeah, we made out, but when I learned she was married, I told her I don’t sleep with married women. She was okay with it and we parted ways.

  Even I wouldn’t cross that line. And especially not with the wife of a man I respected and had done business with.

  Had.

  There was no way the hot-tempered director-producer Darius Whitaker was ever going to use Vaughn Transportation to cart his high-profile actors across the country again.

  It wouldn’t matter that nothing happened beyond the kiss. No one would believe the truth when the gossip rags made more money by making it look like we were having an ongoing affair.

  This was really not what I wanted to deal with on a Monday morning.

  Pops set his hand on my desk and leaned forward. “Leo, you expect me to believe a married woman kissing you was innocent? Dammit, boy, we talked about this. Your antics are causing us problems. At this point, Jacob is looking better and better.”

  My father had been threatening to leave Vaughn Transportation to my cousin, Jacob, for the last year.

  Jacob was my aunt Nadia’s son. He wasn’t a bad guy. In fact, we were pretty close.

  Hell, his ass had been in the bar with me last night when all the shit went down. Maybe if he hadn’t gone home with the bartender he regularly hooked up with, I wouldn’t have gotten in this mess.

  Regardless of how I felt about Jacob, he made a better lawyer at Vaughn & Partners than CEO at Vaughn Transportation. Instead of bringing in business, he’d spend most of his days reading and analyzing every contract and company policy, or fighting with someone about the legal aspects of things.

  “What problems?”

  “I’ve spent the better half of this morning assuring our clients we still have a moral compass and that your behavior was a lapse in judgment.”

  “Which clients?”

  Pops took a seat in the large armchair I had placed just for him that overlooked the Manhattan skyline and then answered, “Carter, Johnson, and Richards.”

  Well, fuck. They were our most conservative clients—one was a pastor of a megachurch and the other two were up-and-coming politicians and businessmen. Each of their contracts were in the eight figures, and any company they associated with would reflect on their standing in the court of public opinion.

  If they pulled their business, the board would lose their shit and definitely insist Jacob take over.

  “Want me to call them?”

  “You’ve done plenty already.”

  I frowned. “My personal life shouldn’t be their concern in the first place.”

  “It wouldn’t if you didn’t have it splashed across the headlines of every news and gossip outlet.” Pops shook his head. “You’re lucky your mother isn’t here. A married woman, of all things. She’d hand you your ass on a silver platter.”

  I winced. I was in major shit when I went home this weekend for our monthly family dinner.

  My Achilles heel was my mother. Tatiana Vaughn was a saint in my eyes, though she had the temper of the devil. My ass had been the recipient of it more than my share as a child who tended to get into trouble. She loved her family with every ounce of her being and never shied away from showing it with hugs or a paddle. She called it old-school Belarusian mothering.

  I hated disappointing her, something I seemed to do more often than not.

  “I didn’t sleep with her, Pops. I stopped it when I learned she was married.”

  God, to think the shit I would’ve been in if Olivia hadn’t passingly mentioned getting revenge on her husband for putting the needs of his business before her and her aspiration
s.

  Pops remained quiet for a moment and then said, “Well, at least there’s that.”

  I released an internal sigh. Pops believed me.

  “Our business depends on our reputation. Right now, boy, yours is down the gutter. Every week there’s something. We’ve worked too hard to get where we’re at to let your antics ruin everything.”

  I wasn’t going to ruin anything. I’d turned my father’s modestly successful chauffeur service into a billion-dollar enterprise.

  “This is all because of some judgmental pricks?”

  “Don’t take that tone with me. I don’t care how much money you bring in. I will not have our name sullied. You better get your act in gear, or I’m going to the board.”

  I clenched my teeth. “Jacob doesn’t want the job. And Sonia’s company is doing too well for her to give it up to run this one.”

  My twenty-five-year-old baby sister was a techie to the max. Give her a computer and a secure line and she’d find a way to hack the Pentagon without anyone knowing. She and a few of her college friends had started a cybersecurities firm with a small investment from me, and within two years, she’d doubled my money and returned it. The last thing she’d want to do was cater to the various jet-setters of the world.

  “We all know Jacob will do what’s needed; he understands responsibility.”

  I almost rolled my eyes. Jacob and I were cut from the same cloth. The only difference was he kept his exploits out of the media. His over-the-top private persona gave him more tail than anyone I knew.

  “Do you truly believe he’d do a better job than me? If so, then I’ll happily step down.”

  “Dammit, boy, I don’t want to take this company from you. I just want you to straighten up your act. Do you want the world to know you for business or your exploits?”

  He had a point. My recent relationship had caused headlines when the breakup hadn’t gone as I’d expected. The Hollywood starlet had done a tell-all interview about us and how I’d torn her heart to shreds.

  She wanted a rich man to finance her projects and lifestyle. Once she got too clingy, I knew it was time to cut the cord. I probably shouldn’t have done it the week before the Oscars, but the last thing I wanted was to give her any more hope.

  “If I promise to work on my personal life, will that keep the threats at bay for now?”

  Pops looked out the window and then turned his attention to me. “It’s no threat. It’s a fact.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I’m retiring in exactly three months, and if by then you haven’t redeemed our company’s reputation, then I won’t have any choice but to give the reins to Jacob.”

  Retiring? Was I ready to walk into this building and not see Pops chatting with the staff or reaming me out about something or another?

  Before I could respond, he added, “I’m bringing in someone to help you.”

  This had me frowning. “As in a nanny to make sure I don’t step out of line?”

  “No, as in a fixer.”

  The second “fixer” left his lips, I had a vision of eyes the color of melted dark chocolate, gorgeous golden skin, and a face that took a man’s breath away when she smiled. The only thing tarnishing the beauty of Riya Guliani was the second she opened her mouth.

  The hell I was going to let her control my life. She hated me and would use this as an opportunity to lord her superiority over me.

  “Not happening.”

  “You don’t have a choice. Riya is flying in tomorrow to help you with this mess.”

  “I don’t need her here. I can fix my own life without her judgmental bullshit.”

  “Watch your language when you talk about her.” The immediate anger in Pops’s tone reminded me how much he viewed her as a daughter.

  He bragged about her every accomplishment, from her Harvard undergraduate and Stanford law degrees to winning the high-profile Hollywood studio case that had changed the way contracts were offered to actors. There were times I wondered if he loved her more than me.

  God, I sounded like a whiny fucking baby.

  “Doesn’t she have more important clients to handle? Like A-list celebrities or senators who were caught in compromising positions?”

  I probably shouldn’t have added the latter part.

  “Riya’s the perfect person to come in. You saw how she helped redeem that actress’s reputation after her relationship with the married producer became public. Now she’s up for some kind of award.”

  Yes, I know because you share the news every chance you get.

  “I won’t be one of her projects to add to her resume. She can spin someone else’s story.”

  “That’s not a choice you have.” Pops’s voice grew hard. “You either fall in line and do what Riya tells you to do or get ready to clean out your office.”

  He was actually serious. There was no way my mother would agree to this.

  “Does Mom know you’re doing this?”

  Pops stood. “She was the one who suggested it.”

  I couldn’t help but stare at him in shock.

  My own mother wanted Riya to fix me like some fucking media experiment.

  “Make your decision, son.” Pops moved to the threshold of my office.

  As he’d said, it wasn’t a choice. This company was my life. Yeah, I liked the benefits of the money, but it was the thrill of negotiations and deals that got my blood pumping. Losing Vaughn Transportation would destroy me.

  “I’ll do it.”

  A relieved smile broke out over his face. “I knew you would see reason. Riya is set to arrive tomorrow afternoon and will meet with you on Wednesday.”

  Pops left, closing the door behind him.

  I remained behind my desk for a few minutes processing what was happening to my life.

  I fucking should have stayed home last night, and none of this mess would have happened. Who was I kidding? I knew it would eventually catch up to me. I’d spent the better part of this year not giving a damn what the world thought of me.

  Now I’d have to deal with the fallout of the work-hard, party-harder mantra I lived by.

  Clenching my fists, I turned toward the view of the bustling city below me.

  Of all the people for Pops to call in, why did it have to be Riya Guliani?

  She’d been a thorn in my side since we were teens. The always-perfect daughter of Pops’s best friend. She never stepped a foot out of line and turned her perfection into making sure the fuck-ups of the world got second chances.

  Her clients had dubbed her “the fixer.”

  Even before her scandal-handling, spin-doctoring career, she’d been a top corporate litigator, never having lost a case.

  The fact I knew so much about her pissed me off even more.

  I could lie to myself and say it was because we’d grown up together, but the fact was she was the one girl I couldn’t touch, couldn’t want, shouldn’t want. She was bossy, prickly, and a know-it-all.

  The last time she’d visited, she’d stuck her nose in the air and all but told me if I didn’t stop my philandering ways, I’d end up hiring her to handle the scandal.

  And now she was coming back to New York to fix my life. She would definitely rub this in my face. Albeit, I wasn’t the one who’d hired her.

  A thought I should have been ashamed of occurred to me. Riya had said in a recent interview that she loved a challenge and that no one was a hopeless case. Well, she was about to get the challenge of her life.

  I wasn’t an idiot. I had to walk the straight and narrow, but I had three months to do it. In the meantime, I was going to make Ms. I’m-better-than-you Guliani earn every penny of the fee she was collecting from my father.

  Game. Set. Match.

  Chapter Two

  Riya

  “What was I thinking when I agreed to this?” I muttered to myself as I paced my office overlooking the Central Business District of Los Angeles.

  There was no way I could s
alvage a reputation this bad without consequences to me.

  I sighed. That was a total lie. I’d resurrected the careers of countless politicians and celebrities.

  The media liked to call me the “the fixer.”

  My job was to make my clients so lovable that the public forgot they were actually anything but upstanding citizens.

  Yeah, it wasn’t the most glamorous of jobs in Hollywood, but it paid well. So well that I had a suite of offices on the forty-second floor of one of the most coveted towers in LA. Plus, there was never a shortage of clients.

  Then why had I taken the job in New York?

  That’s right…because I was a sucker and couldn’t say no to the man who stepped into my father’s shoes after he passed away from a heart attack.

  As if he knew I was thinking of him, my cell phone buzzed and Damir Vaughn’s name appeared.

  “Hello, maja dacka.”

  I smiled at the loving way he always said “my daughter” in his native language of Belarusian.

  A little over thirty years ago, he’d immigrated to the USA from Belarus. He’d met my father, Sai, a new arrival from India, when they both worked as drivers for an old-money New York family. Over the course of a few years, they became friends and soon were inseparable.

  Nearly every one of my childhood memories had Damir and his family in them. Including Damir’s pain-in-the-ass son, Leopold, or Leo as he preferred.

  “Good morning, Papa Damir.”

  “Please tell me you haven’t changed your mind.” The way he said that made me suspicious.

  “Did something happen?”

  “You could say that.”