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It's Only Acting_A Secret Billionaire Romance

Page 2

by Jackson Kane


  “Money that you made on the back of my name! A name you’ve been destroying for months now.” Delvin’s voice deepened and boomed. Fully in control of the argument, the hard edge on Delvin’s voice only sharpened. “I know what role you’re considering in Velvet Intentions. Until you come to your senses, I’m not letting you drag the Ward legacy through the mud any longer!”

  Words couldn’t describe how stupid I felt about him locking me out of my accounts. I’d never been great with finances. When I started doing movies and making real money, Dad insisted that the family accountant set up all my accounts.

  What I didn’t know at the time was that he made himself the primary account holder on all of them. I never considered that he would use that against me.

  Olivia recoiled against the tirade and glanced away.

  Not knowing what Velvet Intentions was, I bit my tongue and filled Delvin's rocks glass to the brim with the expensive top shelf scotch.

  Freezing her accounts seemed incredibly childish. His opinion on his daughter’s relationship with another woman was clear. While she dated Samantha, he told the press that Olivia was confused and poorly coping with extraordinary stresses. He also went on record to say that this was all a phase and that his daughter would come to her senses soon enough.

  Real class act, that Delvin Ward.

  Aside from actually watching her movies I followed everything I could about Olivia. I knew all about her short relationship with actress Samantha Woods. Straight, gay, I never cared about labels, but seeing her with someone else, regardless of their sex, stung me deeply. Olivia was such a public figure that I couldn’t even buy groceries without seeing a magazine cover of the woman I loved with someone else.

  The worst part of all that exposure for me was seeing them look so happy together. I cared too much about Olivia to come back and ruin that for her.

  “Why him?” Olivia seethed, leveling a hateful stare at me that made my chest tighten. “I don't trust Bastien.”

  I'm sorry, Olivia. But I knew an apology would never be enough. Was that why I really came back after all these years?

  “Because I said so!” Delvin stood up and roared, having grown tired of his daughter’s obstinacy.

  “I know you better than anyone, Olivia.” I may not be a good person, but I'll keep her safe. That's all that mattered, especially now that her father’s limo was just shot at by a sniper. “Hate me all you want, but even Delvin knows that I'm your best shot at protection.”

  Just before Delvin could get his hand on it I let the glass slip from my fingers and crash against the floor.

  I shrugged. “Good thing you hired me to crack heads and not pour drinks, huh?”

  Olivia's eyes flashed in disbelief that I would do something like that. Despite her anger, the hint of a smile raised the corner of her mouth.

  Delvin oozed an air of superiority as his eyes narrowed at me over the cigar he was lighting. Finally, he waved to the manservant waiting statuesque by the entrance of the hotel apartment. The man quickly moved in to clean it up and fetch Delvin another drink.

  Glancing around, I almost scoffed. Delvin liked to live an absurdly expensive life for a man who hadn’t made a decent movie in ten years. Obsessed with how he was perceived by the public, he had a reputation for doing everything lavishly, like rent the top floor of the most expensive hotel in Manhattan.

  It didn’t impress me at all.

  I was used to real wealth, not just the cheap display of it. So much had changed these past six years since the night he and I had our little chat. I was bursting at the seams to put the pompous prick in his place, but knew I couldn’t.

  Not yet at least.

  Before he died, my mentor, infamously eccentric billionaire John Warwick, taught me the virtue of patience. Warwick had no family and no real friends, but had an incredibly wide reach when it came to knowing things about people. On his deathbed he heard that someone had put a hit out on the Ward family. He knew how I felt about Olivia and gave me the ultimate gift imaginable, but only for a short time.

  John Warwick gave me his entire fortune, making me one of the richest men in the world, but only until I knew Olivia Ward was safe.

  The terms of the deal we made were that I had to find the person that was targeting her family and stop them, then, without exception, I had to donate the entire fortune.

  Every last cent.

  The Wards were one of the oldest names and the most beloved acting family in all of cinema. Who would possibly want to kill them?

  Slowly wiping the scotch off my hands and onto my jeans, I walked over to Olivia. She looked away. I hated that the sight of me made her eyes sparkle with old pain. I understood why.

  I did exactly what I said I'd do.

  I abandoned her.

  “Dad, I need my money. You can’t do this.” Olivia pleaded with her father.

  “Don’t grovel. It isn’t becoming of a Ward.” Delvin tapped his cell phone then put it to his ear. He stood up to make a call that was obviously more important to him than discussing his daughter's safety. “Turn down that role and we can discuss the reactivation of your accounts.”

  Olivia’s eyes flared with a wild fire at being dismissed like a child, but stayed silent.

  The manservant returned with another glass of scotch, but Delvin's hands were full with the phone and his cigar. As opposed to even mildly inconveniencing himself, Delvin simply waved two cigar clutching fingers for the man to follow him into the study. And with that, Delvin Ward was done with us.

  Leave it to an actor to make a grand exit.

  After a short silence, Trisha finally spoke up. “I don’t agree with your father about freezing your accounts, but you do need protection in this trying time.” Kind and empathetic, Trish was soft spoken and always sincere. Even before she took custody of me in high school she was always the epitome of compassion and warmth.

  Trish always had a graceful way about her, even when she was my teacher. She never seemed to walk anywhere. She just floated. She had a pronounced nose, a brilliant white smile and dyed black hair. Her years with Delvin had stolen some of that fire in her eyes that always kept me in line.

  Of all the things that changed since her marriage to Delvin, that fire was what I missed most about her.

  “I know you two have had your differences,” Trish walked over and put a hand on Olivia's shoulder. Olivia's seething anger at the whole situation started to soften. Trish smiled, nostalgia twinkling in her eyes. “But I remember a time when you two were very close. Almost inseparable, really.”

  Olivia glanced at me then turned her back to speak with Trish in quieter tones. They were still close enough to hear, but barely. “I can't, Trish. It's been too long, there's too much history between us. I need to focus on my career. You of all people know how hard I've worked to get here.”

  Trish squeezed Olivia's hand and whispered something to her. No matter how hard I concentrated, all the while looking like I wasn't interested, of course, I couldn't make out what she said.

  Olivia eventually nodded.

  “Thank you,” Trish said, releasing Olivia's hand. “I’ll do what I can to get you access to your money. In the meantime—” Trish’s voice softened as she glanced over her shoulder to make sure Delvin was out of sight. She handed Olivia a card from her purse. “Take this. There isn’t much on it, but it’ll help.”

  Olivia nodded appreciatively, taking the card. In turn Trish smiled to both of us, then walked from the room.

  Olivia stood alone, thoughtfully, before the massive floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the NYC skyline. I barely noticed the buildings in the distance. My eyes were too busy tracing her body. Her lean, but full, hourglass figure silhouetted against the setting sun and skyscrapers. Her beauty put the scenery to shame.

  Not that I’d tell her that, obviously. My job was to keep her safe. The last thing either of us needed was to rekindle old flames.

  Somebody was bound to get burned.

&nb
sp; Looking at her made my head and heart war with each other. With a body like hers, my cock didn't give a shit about the fires of reason and logic. The whole scene played out in my mind. I'd come up behind her, she'd be hesitant but willing to finish what we started all those years ago. I pull that dress up, or tear it right the fuck off and slam her against the glass. Her palms leaving prints over all of NYC as I fuck her ‘til the glass breaks.

  You're a fool, Bastien. I had to keep my eyes off the prize. Not even two hours since I started this and I'm already slipping into old fantasies. This was going to be a hell of a lot harder than I originally thought.

  “I'm going home.” Olivia announced to anyone that was listening. I could tell by how she said the word home that she didn't mean her NYC apartment, she actually meant home.

  I blew out my air. Going back there was something I wasn't looking forward to. Too many memories.

  “We're going home,” I correct her. Until her family is out of danger Olivia was my responsibility. It was the only way I could atone for what I did to her. Once she was truly safe again I’d leave. Until then… I wasn’t going to let her out of my sight. “I just need to pick something up on the way.”

  Boston... I could've lived the rest of my life without ever going back there. That's where Olivia and I first met.

  That's also where everything fell apart.

  Chapter 3

  Olivia

  Past

  Don't be a weirdo stalker, Olivia. I repeated that to myself every morning when I passed his house. I kept my head down, carelessly thumbing through Twitter on my phone. My eyes darted gingerly toward his house, hoping to get a look at him as I passed.

  I wanted to talk to him so bad, but I didn't have the nerve. It had only been a month since school started. I was running out of time. I needed to make a good impression on him before he found out how weird and awkward I was.

  Who was I kidding?

  The sooner I got that ridiculous fantasy out of my head the better. My classmates automatically assumed I was this stuck up bitch just because of who my father was. The hope for having any real friends here dried up a long time ago.

  Suddenly I heard squeaky barking, followed by Bastien cursing, and then I was attacked. A little ball of fluff hurled itself through the open chain fence and crashed into my legs, getting knocked on its back for the effort. I immediately bent down to pet my tiny attacker, but the puppy seemed to want to roll around my hands and legs rather than stay put.

  Bastien stormed out a second later, looking winded like he'd been chasing this little guy around all morning. “Grab that runt, would ya?”

  He didn't sound pleased.

  My throat dried out when I saw that he was shirtless. A light sweat glistened on his olive skin from the morning sunlight. I think I found a new late-night image to keep me warm before bed.

  Bastien typically kept himself looking immaculate, probably for all the girls in his fan club. Not this morning though. His hair and clothing were a disheveled mess. He looked less GQ handsome and more ruggedly hot. It felt like I was glimpsing behind the well-maintained facade to the real Bastien.

  I was seeing him more intimately than any of the girls he took home.

  Bastien looked me over. His eyes flitted down to my Doc Martin's and leggings, then up past my purple skirt and black superhero tee. It was the kind of look that made my bones turn to pudding, and one that I'd carry in my mind every time I took a shower.

  I reached for the little golden retriever as an excuse to not meet his eyes and turn into a puddle. The puppy was too quick. He darted away, then dove back at me again, wanting more of whatever game we were playing. “He's adorable. What's his name?”

  “Not sure yet.” Bastien towered over both me and the dog. “I'm somewhere between 'stop chewing on that, you little asshole,' and 'get the fuck out of there'.”

  “Tough choice.” I idly brushed my bangs further to the side of my face. “Both names just roll off the tongue.”

  “My dad dropped him off for me as an early birthday present before he was redeployed with his unit. I asked him for the new GTA game and he gets me a fucking dog.”

  The puppy flops unceremoniously to my feet and rolls over, begging for tummy rubs. How could I possibly resist? While I rubbed his sides I desperately tried to refrain from making any stupid baby noises. “Aww, he just wants some love.”

  “He said the dog will help teach me responsibility or some shit. Be glad you don't have a Marine for a father. Nothing can ever be easy. They always want to teach you shit. You're Olivia, right?”

  Oh crap, he already knew my name! We didn't have any of the same classes together, so the only way he could've heard it was by someone else. I didn’t have many friends so whatever he heard probably wasn’t great.

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to remember how to act normal. How are you so much hotter than the other seniors? I didn't say that. “And you're Bastien, right? Is that short for Sebastian? Like the crab in The Little Mermaid?”

  Bastien sighed. All the expression drained from his face. He gave me a flat look.

  What the hell was that? Was I trying to be funny? I felt my cheeks begin to flush red, which was devastating for my pale complexion. I screamed on the inside.

  Would it be weird if I ran away right now, dropped out of school and hid in my room for the rest of my life?

  “It’s Greek, not crab.” Bastien cracked a smile at my obvious discomfort. “How ‘bout I call you 'Olive' instead?”

  “Olive?” My mouth pinched to the side. It wasn’t a super flattering nickname.

  “What?” Bastien’s eyebrows furrowed before tugging down and shading his dark eyes. There was a look in his eyes that sped up my pulse. “I love olives. They taste amazing. What do you say? Olive?”

  “I guess,” I shrugged. The more he said it the more I loved the way it rolled off his tongue. Another quick glance at him and I knew I was in trouble.

  This was going to be such a long school year.

  I finished petting the dog, then pulled a red ribbon scrap from my backpack and tied it around his collar. The ribbon was from the dress I'd be wearing as Juliet in the play we were doing this year in drama. “Hey, you should name the puppy Romeo.”

  Almost as if he was trained to do so, the puppy flipped back onto his paws, then proceeded to start humping my leg.

  “Hey!” I protested, prying the fur ball off me.

  “Romeo, huh?” Bastien's cool smile cracked into a laugh. “He's obviously got good taste. Maybe I'll have to give the dog a chance after all.” Bastien teased and I felt my organs start to melt. “You wanna walk with me to school?”

  Present.

  “Give Romeo a chance.” Bastien shrugged the heavy backpack off the shoulder he was carrying it on. Bastien absently looked around at the inside of my massive apartment.

  I watched his reaction. Some part of me was really hoping to impress him. Look what I did without you!

  Nothing. Bastien was thoroughly unimpressed. I found that weird for some reason. Maybe it was because he worked in security and saw wealthy clients’ houses all the time. It bothered me that my lifestyle did nothing for him.

  Why was that important to me?

  I guess it didn’t matter anymore now that I was broke.

  I wish I could say I couldn’t believe my father did that to me. But I could. Dad only ever saw things his way, everyone close to him had to just conform to that. That’s how it’s always been growing up.

  What the hell was I going to do without any money?

  Trish wasn’t kidding about the card not being much. There was basically only enough money to buy food. I wasn’t even sure I was going to be able to get to auditions now. There goes any chance of replacing Bastien as my bodyguard.

  “I’m not giving either of you a chance,” I snapped back at him. “I don’t want you here, Bastien.”

  “That’s tough shit.” Bastien shrugged. “There’s an attacker out there targeting your family, th
ere is no way in hell I’m going to leave you defenseless.”

  “I’m basically broke now. You know I can’t pay you.”

  “My employer is taking care of all that.”

  “Dad?” I snorted. “He sure-as-hell won’t—”

  “Your father couldn’t afford me.” Bastien laughed.

  What the hell did that mean? If not Dad, then who was signing Bastien’s checks?

  “Who’s paying you to be here?” I asked.

  “Someone who’s extremely wealthy and has a vested interest in your safety and well being, let’s leave it at that.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  “You don’t have a damn choice.” Bastien eyed me. “Don't be a diva, Olivia. This is your life. Put your feelings aside long enough to let me and Romeo protect you.”

  The last thing I wanted was to be alone with Bastien in my home with no cameras around to force me to keep up appearances. Even as I thought it, I felt a familiar blush heat my face. And other places.

  Damn him.

  Hearing his name, the golden retriever barked and wagged his tail. His nails clicked against the freshly polished wooden floor of my condo. He was so big now! Hard to imagine that this was the same ball of fluff that attacked me when we first met.

  “Fine,” I said. “But only because I can’t afford anyone else. The second I get my money back, you’re gone.” It was always all or nothing with Bastien. I tried ‘all’ once and ended up with a shattered heart.

  If it wasn't for Romeo, I might have never talked to Bastien at all. I was worried that if I fell in love with Romeo again, then...

  “Everyone knows that dogs make the best security system.” Bastien gave me a look that used to turn my knees into rubber.

  I swallowed hard, hating that he was still able to do that.

  “Oh? And how’s that exactly? They’d have to bypasses security on the first floor by repelling through one of my windows.” I swept an arm out toward my floor to ceiling palladium windows that overlook the wraparound terrace and the whole of Boston's inner harbor.

 

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