Marrying My Billionaire Boss

by Lee, Nadia

  But the collection of bullshit that just hit me, starting with Bradley Brown’s appearance… What the hell.

  “Nate? Is everything okay? You look really tense.”

  I turn around and see Evie coming into the room. Tell her the truth. She deserves to know, my mind whispers.

  Let her have this one thing. I’m counting on you to keep her safe and happy. Mari’s voice is in my head like a harbinger of doom. Would you be mad enough to shoot the messenger?

  Would Evie? I look at her beautiful, expressive face. It was glowing not too long ago, as she basked in the pure joy of meeting her dad. The honest words stick in my throat like fish bones. I swallow the pain.

  “It’s fine. It’s just…” I let out a heavy sigh. Then, like a coward, I settle on the easier choice. “Some tabloid writer published a bunch of crap about us.”

  Her brow furrowing, she takes out her phone and starts tapping. When she lets out a gasp, I know she found the article.

  “This is ridiculous!”

  “I know.” I go put a soothing hand on her shoulder. “It’s just the usual bullshit.”

  “What does your family think?” She scans further down the screen. “Oh my God, they’re basically saying your dick is defec—! How dare they! It is so not defective!”

  Even with everything going on, I have to laugh. “Clearly not. There is nothing wrong with my dick.”

  “It’s an amazing dick.”

  “Celestial. Transcendent. Olympian, even.”

  Now she’s smiling. “But seriously, where are they getting this kind of crap?”

  “Obviously they don’t need proof to publish. They wouldn’t be in the tabloid business otherwise.”

  “Oh my God. This is…” She looks at me.

  I brace myself for some anger over people calling her a lying, gold-digging whore who’s passing off somebody else’s kid as mine.

  “Are you upset about it? Them saying that you’re, you know…sterile?”

  This is what she’s worried about? “Why would I be, when you and I both know it’s not true? And really, I’ve heard worse. I’m more concerned about you.”

  “Me?” She blinks, then looks down at the screen. “Oh. Right.” She reads a little more. “Well, to tell you the truth…meh. Like you said, we both know all this is untrue. It’s actually funny how hard they’re trying to create drama out of nothing.”

  They’re not going to think it’s so funny when Barron and I get through with them. But she’s not done.

  “Where do they get these clichéd scenarios?” She laughs. “I mean, a fake baby? Gold digging? That’s the best they can do? Don’t they have any editors with creativity?”

  The vise around my heart eases a little, and emotions start swelling. “I thought you hated this kind of publicity. You threw up on that reporter after the auction.”

  “Well, yeah. I don’t like being the center of attention like that, and I was stressed.” She flushes. “But this article isn’t even true…”

  She takes a moment and breathes in deeply. “Look, my life hasn’t been always pretty or rosy, but I was able to get through it because I had my mom, who’s always been my pillar and family.” She reaches out and takes my hand. “Now I have you—another pillar. More family. And that makes me feel stronger, safer and protected. The article sucks, but I’m not going to give it the power to affect our relationship, Nate.”

  Something hot and tight swells in my chest as I gaze at her lovely face, eyes shining, cheeks rosy and mouth soft. I kiss her like her lips are the elixir of life.

  Love.

  I love this woman.

  I love this woman who can laugh at the world. Who cares about what’s important. Who overcame so much to be where she is now.

  Evie is the kind of woman who would still stand beside me even if I had no money, no connections, nothing.

  I touch her, my hands urgent and greedy, craving all of her, needing all of her. I pull her blouse over her head, unclasp the bra and cup her soft breasts, my thumbs over the hard, rosy tips.

  She moans into my mouth, her fingers digging into my hair. Lust roars through me like a raging beast. I kiss her jaw, nip her earlobe. Hear her sharp gasps, feel the slight rocking of her hips against my hard dick.

  Yes.

  I push at her skirt, yank away her underwear. She’s soaking, hot and slick.

  “My God, Evie,” I say.

  “I want you, Nate. Now,” she demands, unbuttoning my shirt.

  I rip the rest of the buttons, unable to wait, then kick my boxers away.

  “I love it that you’re so impatient.” Her pink tongue sweeps over her lips. The sight is more erotic than any pornography. She could be blinking like an owl and I’d still think it was erotic.

  “I’m always impatient to have you, always horny for you.”

  She spreads her legs, her eyes shiny with excitement. Trust. And something else soft and sweet that I can’t quite name but makes my heart ache anyway. “Then I’m all yours.”

  My mouth around her nipple, I push into her in one smooth stroke. She cries out, the sound hot and urgent. Her fingers dig into me, and I spread her even wider, pulling out and surging into her again.

  She wraps around me like molten gloves, and I feel it like a hand around my heart. Sweat pops over my forehead, and lust thrums in my head. There’s pressure gathering at the base of my spine. I’m too close, but I refuse to go over the edge alone.

  Gripping her pelvis, I tilt her so that with every thrust I’m grinding against her clit. She’s panting, her breasts rising and falling, and pleasure twists and unfurls over her.

  She screams my name, her spine arching. Her inner muscles spasm around me, and I drive into her one more time, as deep as I can go, then follow her into the blinding abyss, where nothing matters but us.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Nate

  “How’s Evie doing?” Court asks as we sit down at Virgo for lunch the next day. I gave Evie a bullshit excuse about my best friend needing some guy-talk time and came alone. Yuna is also able to come, taking a break from her all-important baby shopping. Court’s sister-in-law isn’t even close to her due date, but Yuna is apparently sweeping through stores like there’s going to be a massive shortage of baby things next week.

  “She’s all right,” I say. “Taking it better than I thought.”

  “You know that means she’s a keeper,” Yuna says. “So, is he dead yet?”

  “Who?” Court asks.

  “Not yet,” I say, knowing exactly who she means. “I can’t decide if he should be made never to publish again or worse.”

  “Why settle for one?” Loathing seethes in Court’s voice. He has a history with Brockman because the asshole used to date my friend’s candy-bar fiancée and write trash about his family. Brockman gets around.

  “If you need anything, just ask,” Yuna says. “Happy to help crush him. I swing a mean wrecking ball. Well, I know people who can.”

  Yeah, like her ridiculously wealthy and overprotective parents. “Appreciate the offer, but I’m okay. I can handle him on my own.”

  “But you’re worried,” Court says, barely looking at the menu.

  “You shouldn’t be,” Yuna adds. “If you fail, I’ll avenge you.”

  I laugh, my shoulders shaking at her overly serious expression. “Thanks, but really, I don’t need any help to squash that bug. It’ll be a pleasure to make him squeal.”

  “Then why did you ask us to meet you? If it’s not about that shitbag, and you aren’t going to introduce us Evie…” Yuna grows thoughtful. “You should introduce us. I’m dying to meet her.”

  And I should. She’ll enjoy my circle of friends, and most importantly, I want her to feel more included. “You can all come over this weekend to see her, but I’ve got a delicate situation on my hands.”

  Yuna leans closer, propping her chin in her hand. “Ooh. Tell me. I love delicate.”

  I chuckle in spite of myself. “You can’t tell anybo
dy.”

  “Of course not,” Court says.

  Yuna raises a hand. “Scout’s honor.”

  It makes me pause for a moment. “You were a Girl Scout?”

  “Of course not. Don’t be silly.”

  “It’s Evie’s dad.” I tell them my dilemma. The waiter interrupts a couple of times to take our lunch order and bring the food, but otherwise leaves us alone.

  When I’m done, Court says, “Wow.”

  “It’s like a scenario from a Korean mak-jang drama,” Yuna says.

  “Mak-jang?” I ask.

  “Yeah. A totally fucked-up drama with your typical clichés—secret births, dark history that nobody knows, messed-up connections that began even before you were born…you know.” She shrugs.

  I don’t like that definition at all, even though I have to admit it sounds about right. “So how do I fix this?”

  Court shakes his head. “You can’t.”

  “I have to. I have to make Bradley leave, and without Evie knowing I’m behind it. And the sooner the better, so they don’t start to fake-bond or anything.” Court is a great guy, but he can be a little slow when it comes to women. Him being engaged to the love of his life is nothing short of a miracle. Proof that God does care about everyone, including the most clueless among us.

  “That’s the problem. You can’t…unless you run him over,” Yuna says.

  “She deserves to know the truth about her dad. She isn’t a little kid who needs coddling,” Court adds, his expression dead serious, waving his fork around as though it’s a wand that makes people understand him better.

  “Dude, she’s pregnant. She fainted at the family welcome party, and the doctor told her to avoid stress,” I say, annoyed that Court doesn’t understand the delicacy of the situation.

  “My brother’s wife fainted a few times when she was pregnant. It’s normal,” Yuna says. I’m not sure if she’s trying to console me or freak me out. “I mean, it’s obvious people like him would want money, right?” she continues. “But if you give him any now, he’ll come back for more. You’ll be turning yourself into a sucker. It’ll only upset her when she finds out.”

  “What if she doesn’t?” I say, even though I’m getting a sinking feeling. It’s so damn hard to let her keep her pristine image of the guy, especially since it’s all a lie, but Mari’s right. Evie has so little. Maybe she should have this, even if I’m contorting myself to give it to her. Why can’t I be just a little Machiavellian? Like Dane?

  “Secrets always come out,” Court says, growing serious. “Always.”

  I sigh. Court’s family had a secret too—one so explosive, it tore his family apart when it came out. I bury my face in my hands. “Fuck.”

  Yuna pats my shoulder. “You’ll figure it out and do the right thing, Nate. I know you will.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Nate

  After the lunch is over and my friends have left, I sit in my car and ask the question: What would Barron do?

  That old man is impossible, but he knows what he’s doing when it comes to things like this. The man’s also unsympathetic enough that he’d be telling Mari to shove her lies, but I can’t quite do that. She isn’t his mother-in-law, and Evie loves her. It’d be devastating enough for her to discover her mother lied, on top of realizing the dad she’s idolized in her mind is a parasite.

  Low stress. That’s the way to go with Evie right now. So it’s best for her not to have a huge argument with her mom, as well as keep that unjustifiably rosy perception of her dad—so long as Bradley stays away from her.

  So. My plan is a slightly modified version of what Barron would do.

  I contact the Aylster and ask the front desk to connect me to Bradley’s room. He answers, and I tell him I’d like to see him in the next half an hour. And to throw him off, I make sure to keep my voice affable—the naïve son-in-law who doesn’t suspect a thing.

  “Sure,” he says with such sweet warmth that I feel like honey is pouring out of the phone. “Is Evie coming with you?”

  “No. It’s something I need to talk to you one on one about.”

  “All right. It’s not like I have anything to do today.” He laughs.

  Uh-huh. All you have to do is sit tight until you squeeze money out of me or Evie.

  I text Evie to let her know I’m taking some personal time off.

  Now? You never take personal time off, she texts back. Is everything okay?

  Nope, but I’m not telling her that. Just shopping. Even a billionaire needs to buy some things himself. I add a wink emoji, hoping she won’t ask too many questions.

  Putting the phone away, I drive to the hotel and go up to the suite I reserved for Bradley. He answers quickly. He’s dressed in a faded button-down shirt and slacks, the image of a guy who’s been fighting his entire life to make something of himself but couldn’t quite do it. But I’m not as trusting and stupid as he thinks. I can finally put a name to the bright light in his eyes—greed. Pure, unadulterated greed to score some easy money.

  “So. To what do I owe this pleasure?” he says, gesturing me inside.

  I step into the suite. The door shuts behind me, and I move into the living room. A room service table has been left with a half-empty bottle of superb Bordeaux, and the air smells of peppercorn steak. The fucker probably cleaned out the minibar, too.

  I sprawl in the couch like I own the world. Bradley follows and stands awkwardly by the armchair. The man isn’t dumb. He can probably sense something’s wrong.

  “Sorry about the mess. Housekeeping hasn’t come by to clean up,” he says. “Want a glass of wine?”

  “No. I’m driving,” I say, not wanting to touch anything he offers, even if I’m the one footing the bill.

  He sits in the armchair. Smart. At least he knows he should have a clear head for what’s to come.

  “I’m here to talk about you.” There’s no point in sugarcoating it.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. You need to leave.”

  “Leave?” He tilts his head, all innocence. “Am I being moved to a different hotel?”

  I almost snort. I live in Los Angeles, and nothing annoys me like bad acting. Especially when somebody’s trying to fuck me and my family over. “No. You’re going to move to another state and never get in touch with Evie again.”

  The faux-affable air slowly fades. “Is that a fact?” His eyes go narrow and mean, leaving a rodentlike expression. “And why would I do that?”

  “Because it’ll prove to be in your best interests.”

  “You can’t make me.” He braces himself physically, holding on to the arms of the chair.

  Oh, for God’s sake. Does he think I’m going to have security drag him away? I could, of course, but that’s a bit too unrefined for my tastes. Besides, people like him don’t go away that easily. They’re like a cancer that keeps coming back. “Don’t force my hand. You won’t like it.”

  “Don’t force mine. Evie loves her dear old dad.”

  “She doesn’t know what kind of money-grubbing scum you are.”

  “Did you already look into me?” he demands with a smirk. Then he slowly shakes his head. “No. That’s too fast, even for you. It must have been Mari.”

  I don’t answer.

  He rolls his eyes. “She’s such an idiot. Never had the guts to do what’s hard, but always had the nerve to bitch and moan when something didn’t go her way.”

  “Shut up. At least she stayed and took care of her child.”

  He gives me a level look. “And? I told her to get rid of it. What does she want now, a goldfish or a jellybean?”

  Outrage bubbles up, ugly and toxic. What kind of monster is this? He’s talking about a world without Evie like it’s no big deal.

  “Did she think I’d give up everything to be with that dumb whore? For fuck’s sake. Any woman can get pregnant like that.” He snaps his fingers. “She never had to act like a fucking saint. This is the least I deserve for having put up with h
er whining.”

  Suddenly all the hot rage inside me turns icy as I know exactly what I want. I give him a long, hard stare. “You will leave town, Bradley. You will never contact my wife again, and you won’t even breathe of your connection to her.”

  “Or what?” he says, still full of bravado and not getting it.

  “I’ll show you what the Sterlings do to people who cross one of their own.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  I smile coldly. “You won’t even be able to spit on the street without a cop chasing after you. Every time you try to get on a plane, you’ll be set aside for extra security and questioning. You forget to signal before you turn, you’ll be ticketed. Trust me. I can make your life very unpleasant in every aspect, no matter how small and petty. Death by a thousand harassments. And that’s just an appetizer. How’d you like to be unemployable for the rest of your life? I mean, it doesn’t look like you’re used to working a nine-to-five as it is—so much easier to just take some mark’s money, right?—but you’ll be reduced to begging on the streets. Bradley Brown, the first male bag-lady.”

  “You fucker!” His complexion turns red, purple veins sticking out in his forehead.

  “‘Fucker’? Really? I thought you con men were more creative.”

  Shaking, he glares at me. Then finally, he says, “Fine. But I want to see Evie before I go.”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you think she’ll find it weird if I just disappear without a word?”

  “Well, let’s face it, Bradley. It isn’t like you’ve never done it before.”

  His lips tighten until they look like hyphens on his face. “It’ll be better for her if I tell her I have to go and that I love her. That way she doesn’t wonder if she did something to upset me and make me leave or whatever. She’s pregnant. Pregnant women are impossible—I know from experience, trust me”—he rolls his eyes—“and it’ll give her closure.”

  My instinct says to hell with his proposal, but he has a point. Evie might very well assume it’s got something to do with her. I don’t want her beating herself up over a piece of shit like Bradley.

  “Fine,” I say despite a small voice in my gut saying, Noooooooooooo! “You can see her, once, but after that, you need to go.”