***Grey's POV***

Friday rolled around and let's just say Mak was a ball of nerves. My father insisted we actually meet up with the person who sent the email. So, that was the plan. My Dad has our security team hidden around the diner that we will be having the meeting at.

Mak and I got dressed for a normally scheduled work day. I couldn't help but worry when I saw Mak's hands fumbling to assemble his buttons on his dress shirt. I quietly walk to stand in front of him.

His forehead head falls to my shoulder and he breathes shakily. I silently run the small buttons thru the holes. My hands are steady while I help Mak thru his process. When he is more than presentable, I slip my hands to the side of his face. I lift his eyes to focus on my own. His stunning hazel eyes are glassy and his nerves are dancing within those enchanting orbs.

Giving up on any idea of a pep talk, I gently capture his lips with my own. Our pink lips slot together and I transfer my love to him with a sweet, soft kiss. My tongue breaks thru his plush pout and I brush is slowly across his pallet. Our tongues dance and compliment one another as I distract my love from his worries.

Mak tangles his fingers into my hair and his breath breaks into sultry pants. I walk him backward to the wall, ready to escalate the assault to his sweet cavern. His back presses against the structure and I knock his ankles apart with my foot. My knee wedges between his thighs and I unleash my resistance.

Our mouths thoroughly accompany themselves with one another. Our saliva mixes and I hum into the beautiful disaster we are creating. Mak moans and I smile inside knowing he is relaxing, even if only for a few minutes.

I release his tempting lips and prop my elbows on either side of his head. Our foreheads lean against one another. I take a mind clearing breath before beginning my words to bring him ease.

"Baby, it's going to be okay. I can only imagine what you are feeling. Please understand, my dad would never put you in danger. Just try not to stress so much. We are going to feel this fucker out and create a game plan. Okay, hmmm." I whisper. Every word drops with the conviction of my faith in my Daddy.

"I don't want to do this. I'm scared. Literally, I'm fucking frightened. Not for me, I'm so worried that they will target you because of me." Mak whispers in bated breaths.

"Oh, sweet man. Don't be foolish. I will snap his fucking neck if he so much as blinks too fast. Believe that." I smile. My Mak is worried about absolutely nothing of value. I am well equipped to render someone useless.

"I trust you implicitly." Mak weakly smiles and captures my lips with his velvet mouth. I kiss the beautiful man before me in love and adoration.

I keep the menacing vibrations that ripple thru my body at bay. I ache to deliver a beat down to the piece of shit who has my Mak trembling. I drop my arms and rub them comfortingly up and down Mak's forearms. I intertwine our fingers and pull Mak off of the wall.

We make our way to the living room. Mario and Kip wait by the door. They silently shadow us to the garage. We take my limo, heading towards the office.

Mark greets us at the entrance to our building. His eyes scan my boyfriend and he shoots me a knowing glance. He throws his arm over Mak's shoulder and kisses his temple.

"Stop stressing handsome. Daddy Martin would slay Satan to protect you. And, he would look sexy as fuck while gutting him."

Mak giggles and I wink at Mark over my adorable man's head.

"See, who needs to worry when you have a God like Martin Parker in your corner." I joke with my love.

"If you're trying to give me a boner." Mak giggles.

I huff and playfully pinch Mak's hip.

"No Sir. I would prefer you didn't pop a woody over my father." I chuckle.

The conversation works perfectly in distracting Mak. We make it to our floor and separate to our own stations. My mind is restless with thoughts of our lunch meeting. The day passes agonizingly slow. Every hour feels like four.

Noon finally nears and Mark leaves ahead of us. He will be taking a seat close by with Mario and Kip. Mak and I carefully make our way to the diner. We sit in our usual booth and wait impatiently for the unidentified man to make an appearance.

At one, we order our meals. The cocksucker apparently doesn't own a watch. Either that, or he believes his untimeliness is an intimidation factor.

Mak seems to get more tense by the minute. I wrap him in my arms and hold him close. His breathing is erratic and I silently curse the sorry excuse for a human that has him on edge.

The bell on the door of the restaurant tinkles and my eyes make their way to the culprit. It's a woman and I huff in irritation. By two o'clock, I'm texting my father to see if we should call the lunch and cut our losses.

After a brief texting conversation, Mak and I stand up. I lay a bill on the table and we make our way to the exit door. The New York breeze blows swiftly from both sides and I tuck Mack under my arm. We walk casually back towards the direction of Parker, Inc.

The collision of a body into our forms knocks shock over me. I quickly apologize, scanning the offensive party from head to toe.

"I'm sorry. Are you alright?" I ask the old man who is wearing a tan trench coat with a dark brown velour hat. His eyebrows are bushy and dominate his wrinkled face.

"Perfectly. Um, sorry." The man scurries away.

His form is long gone when I notice the coffee he has spilt on my coat and shoes. I pull my handkerchief from my pocket and bend to wipe the sticky substance from my expensive Italian leather shoes.

The envelope, the man dropped in his hurried exit, lies face down on the sidewalk. I pick it up and flip it over. It's addressed to Mak. Immediately my skin pricks with goosebumps.

I rush back to our office with a quick text to Mark. I instruct him to bring Kip and Mario to my parent's home. I quickly call my dad.

"What happened?" Dad asks, his voice is on full alert.

"The fucker didn't show. Instead we were casually assaulted by what we assumed was a random older gentleman. However, he dropped his coffee and an envelope addressed to my Mak at my feet before fleeing. We are all headed to your house." I quickly inform my dad.

The drive over is claustrophobic. The limo contains only my driver, Mak and myself. The air is filled with unanswered questions and Mak's anxiety. My own attitude is worse for the wear. This person is poking a sleeping bear.

We pull up to Dad's mansion and swiftly make our way inside the foyer. Mark and our CPOs flank us at the door. I drop my stained coat into the maid's awaiting arms. She offers to send it to my cleaners and I gladly accept with a grateful smile.

Martin walks into the foyer, greeting us with a tense smile.

"Margo, please bring us bourbon. Six glasses." Dad instructs his maid. With a sweet smile, Margo sprints off to fulfill her boss' wishes.

Dad leads us to the sitting room and the six of us take a seat. We wait in silence as my father gathers his words for a conversation that I don't want to entertain.

I pull the envelope out of my pocket and hand it to my dad. He opens the paper that is inside of said packaging. He scans the contents of the letter and growls harshly at whatever he has discovered.

"This motherfucker wants to play with fire. He's in luck. My flames will make Lucifer cower." My father roars the words out like a declaration of war.

The sheer volume of Martin Parker's threat has my knees trembling. The vicious tenor caresses my ears with the promise of war.

"No one, and I mean absolutely no one, threatens my family." My dad barks out. He stands and paces the marble flooring of the giant sitting room. His face is lit with passion and his blood pressure paints his skin a fiery red.

"What did it say?" I ask my pissed off papa bear.

Jackie,

Good to see you are as handsome as you always were. I guess I did not make my instructions known. I figured that brilliant mind of yours would have assumed not to be accompanied by one of the wealthiest men in New York. By the way, nice catch. I'm not sure how exactly the soiled likes of you landed that gorgeous man, either way congrats on playing out of your league. But, enough with the compliments. I want my fucking clients back. You may have halted production but, you never managed to shut down the factory. With that said, I'm running low on "product" and "consumers". I don't care what you have to do, but I want my files back in hand by the end of two weeks. Take this as a warning. I always get what I want. We wouldn't want that hunk of a man beside you to have to go looking for you. It won't end well. I'm sure you remember.

Your pissed off admirer.

I read thru the threatening note twice before I pass it back to my dad. He balls up his fist and sets the letter to the side.

"Why would he address you as Jackie?" I ask my scared boyfriend.

"What?" Mak yells. His skin visibly pales and the room grows cold.

"The letter addresses you as Jackie." My dad repeats my words in a different form.

"Fuck!" Mak groans.

"Mak, I know you feel threatened. That is completely understandable. However, we need you to fill us in. You are not in danger. I will unleash the demons of the underworld to protect you. You are my son-in-law after all." My dad smiles brightly at Mak.

Mak stares at my father and a glint in his eye portrays the effect my dad's proclamation has on him.

"Only one person has ever called me Jackie." Mak starts. He visibly cringes as the vile nickname tumbles from his lips.

"I take it you know this person?" My dad questions.

"I'm sure you do as well." Mak's words cut like a serrated knife.

"Who?" Kip demands.

"Carl Luger. He considers himself my uncle. That disgusting bastard is no relation to me." Mak seethes as he spits the words across the room like acid.

"Carl Luger?" My dad asks. His head tilts to the side as if the name doesn't strike a familiar chord.

Mark coughs in an attempt to draw attention to himself.

"You mean, Carl Maxwell." Mark clarifies.

Anger rises to the surface. THAT is a name that rings a fucking liberty bell in my head. I jump from my seat and meet my father head on.

"Carl Fucking Maxell. As in, CEO of Maxwell, Inc.? As in, the most powerful CEO in Rhode Island?" I question incredulously.

"One in the same." Mark confirms.

"I will rip his fucking throat out of his body." My dad growls.

"How do you know him?" Mario asks me in a wary tone.

"We prosecuted him on charges of child molestation. He got off with a hefty charitable contribution." I grit out.

All heads turn to Mak as an uncomfortable yelp escapes his throat. Mak's body trembles and his hazel eyes stare blankly. Sweat beads from his head and tears escape the tight corners of his large eyes.

"Mak?" I call to him. With no reply, I snap my fingers back and forth in front of his eyes. His eyes roll back and he crumples to the floor. His body convulses and panic sets in.

Five sets of hands attempt to catch him as Mario whisks him into his burly arms and runs off towards the foyer.