His Christmas Gift

By Debbie Hope

GRIFFEN

I take what I want. I've fought to get where I am and I'm at the top. My partner has embezzled millions of dollars and I know what I want in return. His daughter. 

 

KATRINA

I've always been in love with Griffen Van Halen, even as a little girl. I'm now an intern at his and my father's publishing company and find out he's embezzled millions. In return Griffen wants me for three months. To keep my father out of prison I have to do it. Being Griffen's plaything can't be that bad. Right?

Not your usual Christmas book

Triggers: mentions rape

 

Not your usual Christmas story

• Language: English
• Publisher: Debbie Hope
• Release date: Dec 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223771098

Book preview

Iturn my head to glare at my partner, my hand curls into a fist I wish I could pound into his face. Look, Max. I know you’ve been stealing from the company. I’ve got proof. I only need you to tell me who’s helping you. I’m calling security to take you to prison. I reach for my office phone; he reaches out and lays his hand over mine.

Please Griff, wait. His eyes plead with mine; his face lined heavily in the past twenty years we’ve been partners in our publishing house. I still can’t believe he stole three million dollars from our company when we make billions. It doesn’t make sense but it’s there in front of me in the spread sheets.

I’m too old to go to prison. You can’t. He is older than me, in his fifties while I’m forty. He was almost thirty when we started Griff-Harris Publishing Company. He had the capitol and I had the brains.

I lean forward onto one forearm, my other hand still on the phone. Tell me, Max. Why? With all the money you’ve made over the years from this company why do you need a measly three million? Answer me that.

His eyes drop to the desk and he fidgets his body in his chair. He’s going to try and lie. I head that off.

Don’t lie. Tell me the truth.

He drops his head down to his hands on the desk. I can’t Griff. I just can’t.

Fine. I press the button on the phone to talk to my secretary. Callie…

No, Griffin, please.

Yes, Mr. Van Halen?

I have my finger on the button, waiting for his response with a raised eyebrow.

Okay. Okay. I’ll tell you what I can.

Never mind Callie. I’ll let you know if I need anything else. Thank you.

Sure, Mr. Van Halen. Just let me know what I can do.

Go ahead, Max. Talk. I sit back in my chair and fiddle with a coin I’ve had since my childhood. My mother told me it was my uncle who died of cancer. He was more of a father than my own was. I move it from one finger to another absentmindedly. Listening to Max explain. Except he’s not. He’s rambling.

His daughter’s face slips into my mind as he rattles on. She’s around twenty or so now. I’ve watched her grow up into a beautiful, smart young woman. One I’m seriously attracted to. And she’s my employee.

Max, get to the point. I shake my head at him, I wasn’t even listening enough to notice if he had gotten to the fucking point.

Look, Griff. I fucked up. I know I did. I got distracted by a young pretty face who pretended was interested in me and it went to my head. Now she wants three mill or she’ll go to my wife and the media. I had to do something. He swipes his hands down his worn face, scrubbing as if his troubles will be wiped away.

You didn’t have three million, Max? Really?

What can I give you in exchange for it?

Loud laughter and giggles erupt outside my office door. Where’s Callie? Although she should be out there with the rest of the employees having fun at our Thanksgiving party. I press the button to her desk again. Giggles come over the speaker and a clearing of a throat that sounds like hers. Yes, sir?

Go and enjoy yourself at the party like everyone else. Have a good Thanksgiving. Although it sounds like she might already be having fun.

Giggles again over the speaker and a gasp, thanks Mr. Van Halen.

My house is worth over three million. I can give you that.

Max, why don’t you have three million dollars? How did you piss it all away? Thoughts of a blond-haired blue-eyed girl dancing and drinking overtakes my thoughts.

His voice seems to come from a billion miles away as I think about his daughter. The daughter I watched grow up and shouldn’t be thinking about in any way I am.

You wouldn’t know being single, but having a wife and a daughter at university is very expensive.

I can picture her dark blue eyes half closed in ecstasy, her blond hair wrapped around my fist, my big cock filling her mouth and down her throat.

Griff. Did you hear me? Max’s voice has exasperation filling it.

Yes, I heard you. So, having a wife and daughter costs a couple billion dollars to care for. Glad I don’t have those things. I can’t believe the thing I’m considering demanding for the three million dollars. It’s wrong. But, what do I care.

What do you want?

So, you don’t go to jail for the rest of your life you mean? I look at him. I really look. I can see why he would take up with a young woman who flattered his ego. He’s balding, what hair he has is a greasy combination of dark and gray hair. He’s overweight and his designer suit doesn’t fit. He’s a mess.

What did she say? You propositioned her? He blushes beet-red and ducks his head down.

So, you actually might go to prison on two counts?

No, I paid her off. He frowns at me as if I’m the stupid one.

You actually think she’s going to stick with only that? Not take you for more? Did you make her sign a contract? An NDA?

He puffs his flabby chest out as if it has any meaning, of course I did.

My thoughts run a million miles an hour, and I stare at him as I think. He’s being a little squirmy, I wonder what else is going on, Max, how many other women have there been?

He stares off into a distant point behind my head. I know he’s putting this conversation off as long as he can. He’s guilty of being unfaithful not only the one time but what must be multiple times by the way he’s acting.

I run my hand over the top of my hair, fuck Max. Fine, I don’t fucking care. There’s still a matter of three million dollars.

What do you want for it? His hands tremble as he lays them on the table in front of him. He clutches them into a fist, visibly trying to stop the trembling.

I rub my chin while thoughts of Katrina’s eighteenth birthday party flood my mind. Her in a skimpy white skirt and a red tank top matching her red glasses. Little flat ballet like slippers on her feet. Those glasses are the sexiest accessory I’ve ever seen on her.

Giggling with the other girls, boys standing off to the side unless there with their girlfriends. Max and other scowling fathers kept the room pretty separated.

The big girly birthday cake with roses and butterflies. A table piled high with presents. Her flirty skirt flips up for a second and her cheeks redden and hands hurry to push the skirt back down makes my cock grow and uncomfortable in front of her father.

Her, here at work. Her red glasses and professional work attire. Long blond hair done up in buns or ponytails. Just thinking about her here at work wearing skirts to her knees, blouses buttoned up to her neck. Her slightly more than a handful breasts, nipples still visible even with the bra she wears, those tight pencil skirts or slacks that cup her fine, rounded ass. I shift in my seat, adjusting my dick, suddenly hard at the thoughts becoming x-rated. Katrina, on her knees, eyes raised to mine in submission, red-painted lips sucking my cock like her favorite flavor of sucker.

Fuck it.

What I want is Katrina for three months.

He’s almost comical in the way his eyes widen and his jaw drops. His mouth flaps open and closed, unable to speak words. Wha…wha…what?

You heard me. I watch him like you would a poisonous snake in defensiveness, ready to strike. A father in defense of his young, if he cared enough is a dangerous thing.

I want your daughter.