Annihilate Me 2: Vol. 1 Read online

  ANNIHILATE ME 2,

  VOL. 1

  BY

  CHRISTINA ROSS

  The Annihilate Me series begins again with Annihilate Me 2, Vol. 1. This series is an extension of the #1 best-selling Annihilate Me series, with more than 700,000 books sold worldwide in a matter of months.

  Although this new series can be read on its own, readers will likely enjoy this series far more if they first read the original Annihilate Me series and then the Unleash Me series as it shares the same characters. The experience will be dramatically deepened.

  The Annihilate Me 2 series once again focuses on Jennifer and Alex’s relationship.

  BELOW ARE THE U.S. LINKS.

  IN FRANCE, THE SERIES IS CALLED “CAPTIVE-MOI”.

  IN GERMANY, THE SERIES IS CALLED “UNTER FEUER”.

  ANNIHILATE ME, VOL. 1

  ANNIHILATE ME, VOL. 2

  ANNIHILATE ME, VOL. 3

  ANNIHILATE ME, VOL. 4

  ANNIHILATE ME, HOLIDAY EDITION

  ANNIHILATE ME: BOXED SET

  Also by Christina Ross:

  UNLEASH ME, VOL. 1

  UNLEASH ME, VOL. 2

  UNLEASH ME, VOL. 3

  UNLEASH ME: BOXED SET

  Stand-alone novel

  CHANCE

  For my dear friends.

  And my family.

  And especially for my readers, who mean the world to me.

  Your support of my career is unfounded.

  Thank you for following Jennifer and Alex’s story into its newest adventure.

  This is the first volume in the Annihilate Me 2 series. Others will follow.

  Copyright and Legal Notice: This publication is protected under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws, and all rights are reserved, including resale rights.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means (including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval) without permission in writing from the author.

  First ebook edition © 2014.

  Disclaimer:

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons living or dead (unless explicitly noted) is merely coincidental. Copyright © 2014 Christina Ross. All rights reserved worldwide.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Books by Christina Ross

  Cover Reveal for Unleash Me, Vol. 3

  Can’t wait for Christina’s next steamy book?

  ANNIHILATE ME 2,

  VOL. 1

  By

  Christina Ross

  CHAPTER ONE

  New York City

  May

  The news had already swept the city and struck the financial world hard by the time my limousine arrived at Wenn Enterprises, the headquarters for my husband’s conglomerate, which now was under fire.

  Cutter was driving. Tank was beside him. I was in the back, no longer nauseous from throwing up earlier, but nevertheless not at my best. At least I no longer looked as pale as I had earlier. Enough time had passed since the morning’s events for me to pull myself together so I could be prepared to help Alex if he needed me—even if it was just for support.

  “The press is here,” Tank said as the car pulled toward the curb.

  Through the tinted windows, I assessed the medium-sized crowd gathered along the sidewalk. There must have been two dozen reporters—print and broadcast. Some held notebooks or digital recorders, while others held cameras or video cameras. All stood near the building’s front entrance, waiting for Alex to come out to either make an official statement about the situation or leave Wenn after what had to be one of the worst days in its history. They were ready to feast on him.

  “So they are,” I said. “And apparently they just saw us. Look at them scramble—the wolves of Fifth Avenue. I wonder who they think is in this car. Me? Or one of the board members? Probably a board member—at this point, that would make sense.”

  Tank turned around to look at me, his square jaw set into place, as if sealed there by concrete. “They know it’s you.”

  “How?”

  “The license plate. You and Alex always arrive in the same car.”

  “WENN1,” I said. “You’re right. I should have thought of that.”

  “I don’t think you’re thinking clearly right now.”

  I leveled my friend with a look. Tank was former SEAL, the longtime head of security at Wenn, my best friend Lisa’s husband—and a man so massive, he dwarfed most.

  “Actually, that isn’t true. Right now, I’m focused on damage control. And I’m calm. You probably expect me to be rattled.” I motioned toward the crowd milling outside the limousine. “They’re probably hoping to see the same thing. But they’re not going to see even a trace of that because I’m already certain that everything is going to be fine. This is a blip. We just need to figure out how to spin it.”

  “Why put yourself through this?” Tank asked. “You were sick earlier, and they’re going to devour you. I recommend that you skip your meeting with Blackwell and your meeting with Alex. You can reschedule Blackwell for tomorrow, and you’ll see Alex later this evening, when he returns home. He can fill you in on everything then.”

  “I appreciate your concern, Tank, but this is no time to abandon my husband or my job.”

  “It’s not about abandoning either.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “It’s about your safety.”

  “What are they going to do to me? Seriously? Yes, they’re going to jump me the moment I step out of the car. But let them. I have little to say to them. If you two would please flank me and get me past them and into the building as swiftly as possible, I’d be grateful.”

  “Jennifer—”

  I pulled my long, dark hair away from my face, and let it fall in waves down my back. I was wearing a pale yellow business suit, and in my lap was a matching clutch. After this morning’s news, people were probably expecting me to be wearing black. “I’m fine, Tank. They don't intimidate me. I’m going in. Let’s do this.”

  Reluctantly, he nodded at Cutter. As each man stepped out of the car, I heard the crowd’s roar rise and then fall as the limousine’s doors opened and slammed shut. I took a breath to compose myself before my own door swung open, and when it did, cameras immediately started to go off and a cacophony of questions were hurled at me.

  “Do you have a statement, Jennifer?”

  I took hold of Tank’s arm, and started to move off the street and onto the sidewalk.

  “I don’t.”

  “You’re not only married to Alexander Wenn, but you also consult him on his business affairs. You must have a statement.”

  “I haven’t seen or talked to my husband since this morning. I’m sorry, but I
have nothing to say.”

  “People are calling for your husband to step down as CEO. What are your thoughts?”

  I turned to the reporter who posed the question and laughed. “That it’s ridiculous. And that my husband is a genius.”

  “The Street is calling your husband reckless.”

  I wanted to glare at the reporter who’d said this, but instead I kept my expression neutral, knowing that if I gave them even a trace of the raw anger I felt inside, that they’d use it against me.

  “As I said, Alexander Wenn is a genius.”

  “Then explain what’s happened today.”

  I didn’t.

  All around me was the rapid, staccato rhythm of cameras going off. It was just past eleven in the morning, the sun was bright and warm, and there was a slight breeze that kicked up my hair and carried it over my left shoulder.

  “Your silence isn’t going to help the situation, Mrs. Wenn. We’re asking you to cooperate. Just answer our questions.”

  Due to Tank’s sheer size—not to mention Cutter’s—we were able to press through the crowd and move toward the doors. It took everything I had within me to keep focused, to stay on point, to not let them get to me—even though they were attacking the man I loved, and I wanted to lash out at them for even daring to try to take him down. Blood was in the air, and these people were hungry to draw their share of it. But I knew in my gut that this situation called for poise, so I tuned them out and continued to walk forward with purpose.

  When we finally reached the doors, I heard a female reporter call out, “Are you just going to say nothing?”

  I turned to her before entering the building. She was a young woman—maybe just under thirty—and I could see the hunger in her eyes. The need to be part of this story and the sudden plan to destroy my husband. She was trying to do just that, but she wasn’t going to win. Not just because I refused to answer her question, but because I knew in my heart that Alex could rise above this, regardless of how bad things looked on paper right now.

  “I don’t run Wenn,” I said to her. “My husband does—brilliantly. Have a good morning everyone.”

  And with that, we stepped into Wenn’s massive lobby, which was off-limits to the press. Max, one of Tank’s men, who was there to make sure that the media was kept out, met us at the door.

  I placed my hand on his arm. “How are you holding up?” I asked.

  “Everything is fine, Mrs. Wenn.”

  “Since when is it ‘Mrs. Wenn’? It’s Jennifer—you know that. Have you had anything to eat? Coffee? A break to use the restroom? I worry about all of you in situations such as this.”

  “There’s no need to worry, ma’am.”

  “I believe there is. You’re all like family to me—you know that. How many times have each of you put your own lives on the line to help me? And Lisa?” I looked over at the reception desk, behind which sat four men. Three were trying to keep up with the flood of calls that were pouring in. The other man was there to address any other inquiries.

  I turned my attention to him.

  “Carl, would you please make sure that Max gets whatever he needs? Coffee. Juice. Maybe some finger food—doughnuts or bagels. I’d appreciate that.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Wenn.”

  I looked at Cutter. “Would you mind relieving Max for a half hour or so? I think he could use a break.”

  “Absolutely, Mrs. Wenn.”

  I looked up at Tank as we moved toward the bank of elevators at the lobby’s far right. At this point, Tank and I were so close, he was like a big brother to me. “Can I ask you a question?” I said.

  “Shoot.”

  “When did I become ‘Mrs. Wenn’?” I whispered to him. “It’s always been ‘Jennifer.’ I don’t get it.”

  “You became ‘Mrs. Wenn’ this morning,” he said.

  “Why?”

  He pressed one of the elevator’s buttons. “Because it was this morning that everyone started to fear for their jobs.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  When I arrived at the forty-seventh floor, which was dedicated solely to Alex’s and my offices, I went immediately to our executive assistant, Ann, who had become a great friend of mine—and with whom I’d been through plenty.

  When she looked up as Tank and I approached her, I thought that she appeared unusually strained, regardless of how chicly she was put together. Her blonde hair was swept up into a tight chignon and her dark blue suit was nothing if not polished and elegant, but her eyes betrayed a wealth of concern.

  I took her hands in my own as I approached.

  “How are you?” I asked.

  She lifted her chin as resolve entered her expression. “I’m hopeful.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “I should be asking you that.”

  “You know what I mean. You’ve already been through hell this morning. You know that I care about you.”

  “And you know that I feel the same. I’ve already called home and told them that I might be late tonight. I’m prepared to stay here to assist Alex and you with anything you might need.”

  “It won’t come to that, but I appreciate it, Ann.”

  “It’s my pleasure.”

  “Is Alex in?”

  “He’s meeting with the board.”

  “How long have they been in session?”

  She released her hands from mine and checked her watch. “Forty minutes.”

  “So, we’re looking at a couple of hours before they’re finished?”

  “At least. Likely more.”

  “Would you call me on my cell when he returns to his office? If he has plans to address the media, please ask him to speak with me before he does so. In the meantime, I’ll be with Blackwell.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jennifer.”

  I gave her a quick hug. “We’ll get through this. No company Wenn’s size is immune to what happened this morning. This is temporary—I promise.”

  Tank and I started to walk away, but Ann’s voice carried behind us.

  “Call me if you need anything.”

  I turned to her. “I will, but expect to go home to your son and to your husband at your usual time. Have dinner with them. Stretch out on the sofa with Mark, watch a movie, have a glass of wine, ask him for a back rub, and do your best to relax. This isn’t going to beat us, Ann. It’s just a hitch.”

  But even as I said that, I saw on her face that she wondered whether it was.

  * * *

  As Tank and I approached the bank of elevators, I felt the weight of the day already pressing down on me. I’d only been here a few minutes, so I could only imagine what Alex was going through. I worried about him. I wanted to hold him and talk to him, but for the time being, that was off the table.

  I looked at Tank.

  “I’ll leave you so you can go watch over the front entrance with Cutter and Max. If someone from the media tries to slip inside, feel free to knock them on their ass for me.”

  He smiled at that. “One fist or two?”

  “Depends on the reporter. If they’re from the Times or the Journal, go easy on them. But if they’re from the Post, let them have it. Both of us already know that rag is dragging Wenn through the mud online as we speak, and that they’ll only continue to do so in print tomorrow morning. I can only imagine what they’re saying about Alex now, and it pisses me off. I hate that paper for many reasons. I think you know all of them.”

  “You have every reason to hate it.”

  “Let me talk with Blackwell, see what she’s thinking, and I’ll call you when I’m either ready to leave here alone, or with Alex. If he does plan on making a public statement—and I think he has to at this point—I’ll let you know. In the meantime, you might as well plan for him making one. Prepare Cutter and Max for that possibility now.”

  “If he gives a statement, I’m assuming it will be inside?”

  “God, yes. Otherwise, it will be a circus. We don’t need people on the street being a part of
any of this.”

  “Do you need anything else from me?”

  I pressed the ‘up’ call button for the elevator and considered that question as the doors slid open and I stepped inside. “If you want, just think good thoughts for Alex,” I said. “I’ve tried to keep up a brave face for a lot of people, Tank, but you know me too well, and I respect you enough to be frank with you. I have a feeling that Alex is going to need a few prayers sent his way today. That we’re all going to need them. I think we can come through this, but before the sun shines on Wenn again, I also think that it’s going to get dirty first.”

  * * *

  I arrived at Wenn’s fifty-first floor and walked down the crowded, buzzing hallways to Blackwell’s office, aware of the glances that were shot in my direction and of the silence that followed in my wake.

  When I found her in her corner suite, she was standing at the wall of windows behind her desk—her hands on her hips, her black bob shining in the sunlight, her head lowered and watching the traffic on Fifth. Barbara Blackwell had become one of my great friends and mentors. She was in her early fifties, she was a creature of couture, she was recently divorced with two daughters at university, and she was among Wenn’s most powerful and influential players due to her close relationship with its CEO, Alexander Wenn. When I cleared my throat, she turned to me, and I saw—if only for an instant before she collected herself—that she was deeply troubled.

  “Where have you been?” she asked.

  “I got sick this morning. Alex had to leave without me. But I’m here now—and in time for our appointment. Just as I always am.”

  She arched an eyebrow at me. “What do you mean you got sick?”