Blackmailed by the Billionaire Brothers: The Complete Series

by Sylvia Banks

  Blackmailed By The Billionaire Brothers

  By Sylvia Banks

  Copyright © 2015 by Sylvia Banks.

  All rights reserved. This work may not be copied, redistributed or stored in a digital database, with the exception of short quotes and passages for the purpose of review or analysis.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Organizations, places events in this book are either fictitious or used fictitiously.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for purchasing this ebook. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

  Join my mailing list and I’ll let you know when my stories are at a special price or free!

  - Sylvia

  Other Titles By Sylvia

  Bought By My Billionaire Boss: The Complete Series

  Chapter 1

  The ultimate dare flashed over my computer screen. I read it twice. My online friend, or rather, my online acquaintance, “Bouncy_loudmouth”, triple dog dared me. How juvenile. My fingers danced over the computer screen.

  What do I get if I do?

  I waited for a moment and then I got a reply. You’d get laid.

  My girlish squeak echoed over my cubicle wall and into the row of my neighbor office rats. Oh crap. Did anyone hear that? I stood up, all five foot six inches of me, and tippy-toed over the top of my fake wall. A sea of carpet-coated foam core board and thin metal supports stared back at me. Nobody cared. Story of my life. I sat back down and typed.

  That’s insane. You’re insane.

  Footsteps approached and I did an “alt-tab”, switching back to my report. Nothing to see here. Just on my lunch break. But people always got upset about me using the work computer for personal things, even though I was punched out and off the clock. If I thought about it, I was actually on a working lunch break. But the last thing I needed was my boss coming over here thinking I was slacking off during work hours.

  A suit clad body went by and I switched back over to the private chat room.

  Bouncy_loudmouth replied, you don’t have to do it.

  Of course I didn’t have to, but you might as well call Marty McFly chicken. A triple dog dare? Obviously Bouncy didn’t know me very well. Which reminded me…

  Will you tell me if you are a boy or girl if I do this?

  Long pause. Come-on Bouncy, I don’t have a lot of time left on my lunch break.

  I’d been talking, or more like typing, to Bouncy for a few weeks and I didn’t even know his or her real name, where she/he worked or any kind of in-depth detail about everyday life. We’d gotten into deep and dirty details about our lives right after “hello”. I could tell you all about Bouncy’s deep fear of heights, political beliefs, and desires but if I had to tell you what Bouncy had for lunch—forget it. With the heartfelt detail from the person on the other end of the screen, I was willing to bet Bouncy was a girl. No guy would ever divulge the things Bouncy did. Five minutes into our first chat session and we were in our own private room talking about commitment issues.

  Bouncy finally replied. Sure. How will you prove it?

  What you don’t trust me?

  Ha-ha. Yes, actually I do.

  “Ms. Renzi,” a flat male voice said.

  I shot up from my chair, twisted around and stood face-to-face with Warren Trost, my boss. “Yes, sir.”

  “When your lunch is over, would you mind taking these packages to the mail room?” His gaze never wavered beyond my face. His eyes were like two flames burning a hole through my soul. His face a cool mask, but those eyes…Warren would be handsome if he didn’t look like he was sneering all the time. Honestly, he was still gorgeous even with the dead-pan attitude and the intense expression. But, I was never sure if he was plotting to fire me or murder me so he wouldn’t have to pay a severance package.

  He gestured with the parcels in his hands. Mentally rapping on my brain, I came to attention and took the brown wrapped boxes and said, “Sure thing Mr. Trost.” I hoped I gave him a winning smile. It felt fake. He probably knew it was fake. Why did I bother?

  Warren looked like he was going to say something else, but seemed to think better of it and shut his mouth. I’d heard his last assistant quit within a week. She rambled something about his etiquette as she stormed out the office with her file box. Not even our persuasive HR manager, Ellis Trost and exact opposite of his brother, was able to calm her down.

  That was how I was promoted from the filing room to the CEO’s assistant of “BankTrost” after working here for two months. Ellis interviewed me for the position before he introduced me to Warren. As long as “introduced” meant Warren scanning me from head to toe for two seconds, saying “she’ll due” and then waving me off.

  There was a moment of awkward silence, at least on my part, and then Warren left. My right eye lid started twitching and I put slight pressure with a finger to relieve the stress. Then real panic set in. I turned around to my screen. The line of text starting my conversation with Bouncy was at the very top.

  I triple dog dare you to sleep with your boss.

  No! Did Warren see that? My face burned in embarrassment. How could I face him again? Oh my cannoli. I had to lie to myself and say he did not see that. It was the only way I was going to get out of this day alive. Otherwise, I’d shrink down to two inches and get stepped on by the five o’clock rush to get out of this place.

  “Fabulous?” A familiar voice called my pet name. It wasn’t a nickname—my real name, Fabiola, was shorter.

  I looked up and saw Barbara, my old co-worker and boss, manager of the filing department. Scrambling to my computer, I disconnected from the chat room and turned back to a stack of files dropped in my lap.

  “What’s all this?” I said.

  “I know you’ve moved up in the world, but really does Warren make you do anything?” Barbara leaned against my cubicle entrance. Her fitted navy suit made her look like the confident bank manager I’d want on my side when applying for a loan.

  I sighed. “Well, I have these packages to deliver.” I pointed at the small stack.

  Her curly brown hair barely manageable, shrouded her brown eyes. Barbara was a sharp shooter and I loved working with her. She’d been my manager until Warren extracted me from my happy work home. I was still adjusting to his surly attitude.

  Curly brown hair waved as she shook her head. “Well, at least he’s not chasing you out of the building.”

  That was always a plus.

  “So,” Barbara said. “Which one?”

  In total confusion I looked up at her. She pointed at my computer screen. “Technically, you have two bosses. Which one? Ellis or Warren?”

  Heat rushed to my face fast and hard as a steaming train. I was sure my face was the same shade of red as my hair. She’d seen the dare. Speechless, I sputtered. “Uh…oh…ahhh…”

  Barbara laughed and shimmied her full-figured dairy-aire out of my cubicle. “File those when you have time, please,” she called out. “It will give you something to do.”

  Yay. Work for me. Not that I wasn’t busy. Warren kept me jumping but it was meaningless crap. Much like the “take this to the mail room” garbage. I was waiting for the inevitable “get me a Grande double frap coffee”. I got the notion he didn’t trust me to be his personal assistant. He probably thought of me as just another crazy red-head to steer clear of, she’ll due indeed. Wouldn’t it be a kicker if he expected me to sleep my way to the top. But as stiff and well dressed as Warren is, he probably liked men.

  Besides, I had another
boss that was much more my style. Ellis, Warren’s brother, was the head of Human Resources and much more…likeable. Eli had a sense of humor, made people feel comfortable around him and called his brother “War” which I found hysterical. War was the perfect nickname for him as my direct boss claimed battle on all his rivals. I shuddered. Warren’s reputation as a ruthless leader and staunch competitor was well known and respected. I thought it was awesome we had a fierce commander in chief. Not so cool when he turned his brutal attentions to me. Which was right now.

  Light green eyes penetrated me through to my core. The man wanted to give me a heart attack. Warren stood in my cubical staring at me. His creepy silence unnerved me. Thank god the computer screen was off. Barbara let me off easy. Try explaining my triple dog dare to the boss.

  “Ms. Renzi,” Warren stared intently in my eyes.

  I sprang up. “I’m on my way to get these to the mail room.”

  “That can wait, will you come see me in my office?”

  Oh crap. What have I done now? My gut twisted. At the same time a lustful twinge ran through my girl parts. Great. This was Bouncy’s fault. If I hadn’t been challenged I wouldn’t be thinking about sex with Warren right now.

  Following him into his office, my legs moved like they were wading through sand. Was I already fired? Mom would kill me. Warren took his seat behind his desk, scanning a piece of paper in between his fingers. He held the sheet like it was fine crystal. If his masculinity didn’t assault every one of my senses I’d think he was prissy.

  I sat and his eyes flicked to mine. The same unwavering intensity was even more unnerving being alone with him. Intriguing how Warren never actually brought his face up. Rather, he watched people through the filter of his nicely shaped eyebrows. It wouldn’t surprise me if he thought keeping his head down saved economy of time. That was just the way of my boss.

  “It says on your resume that you graduated from Notre Dame,” Warren eyed me. I couldn’t tell if he was waiting for confirmation or an objection.

  “Yes.” I smiled. Nobody dared asked the real question. The question they wanted to ask. The why aren’t you in accounting question.

  He set the resume down, folded his hands and brought his face up. Not many received the full brunt of his severe facial expression. Not head-on at least. Warren was blessed with a face meant to command masses. His cleft chin begged to be slapped. Taut lips too thin to pout but thick enough to bite hardly smiled. His strong nose blended well with his light green eyes that usually saw people through long lashes and perfect, masculine eyebrows.

  “Why are you wasting your time?” He said.

  My smile dropped. “What do you mean?”

  The look on Warren’s face could scare babies and almost scarred the piss out of me. He did not tolerate fools. I saved him from actually asking the embarrassing question. “You mean, why am I not in the finance department?”

  The man stared at me. He expected an answer and for me to read his mind. “I don’t want to be an accountant,” I said. There, how ‘bout that War. I wanted to stick my tongue out at him. He and my mother could brow beat me all they wanted, but I hated numbers.

  He picked up another piece of paper. I could recognize the Experian report. My score was something in the upper seven hundreds, I had no police record, never accused of illegal activity and nothing that would suggest that I was a bad accountant. In fact, I was a very good accountant. I just didn’t like financing.

  “You’ve had no incidents in your accounting career, and I’ve found no discrepancies,” he said. “So you want me to believe that after four years of study, you don’t want to become an accountant?” His sneer became more pronounced.

  “That’s correct.” I lifted my chin in defiance.

  He looked through me or rather he was trying to look around my answer—as if he could see the “real” reason why I avoided the accounting department. The messiah’s honest truth was—I didn’t like accounting. Four years was enough. I’d agreed with mom to take the business track because it would be good for running my own business. I wanted to run a bakery. But capital had all been drained with student loans and living expenses. It would take me another five years before I could save enough for my dreams to come true.

  “I’m re-assigning you to accounting,” he said. Warren glanced down at his desk as if the conversation was over. He grabbed a pen and a form and started writing.

  I gritted my teeth and said, “I don’t want to go to accounting.”

  Warren dismissed my words. “Report to Barbara tomorrow. She will set you up.”

  He was not going to get away with this. If I didn’t need this job, I’d quit. But I had two more years until my loans were paid off and rent wasn’t cheap. “Did you hear me?” My voice climbed to shrieking tone. “I said I don’t want to be in accounting.”

  “You better serve the company there,” Warren said without looking up. “Not wasting your time across from me.”

  I was ready to pull my hair out. I stood and leaned over. “I’m going to talk to Ellis about this.”

  “Go ahead.”

  His mind was made up. Usually, men had a difficult time countering an angry red-head. Warren didn’t seem to care. He continued to write while I stormed out of his office. I would not be transferred. I would speak to the Human Resources head and clear this up. Or maybe I would quit. I wasn’t sure yet. First, I’d go see Ellis Trost and see how he could help me.

  Chapter 2

  Ellis was his usual friendly self when I walked in his office. Getting up from his desk to greet me, his warm hand enveloped mine. He always shook everyone’s hand—employee or client. The H.R. head of the company was a stark contrast in manner and complexion to his brother. The most noticeable thing about Eli was his light blue eyes. More often than not, they glittering in mischief. His skin was pale but from there Eli’s facial features screamed he and War were brothers. They possessed the same mouth, nose and eyebrows. Only Eli used his features to wrap you in warmth and compassion.

  As we shook hands he gave me the best opportunity to tell him all about my woes. “Fabiola, how’s the new position?”

  “It sucks,” I said, letting go of his large hand.

  His startled surprise lasted a nano-second, then he sighed. “What has War done now?” Ellis sounded resigned. Apparently, this was a common complaint.

  “He wants to transfer me to accounting.”

  Ellis crossed his arms and leaned on the edge of his desk. “Because you’d be excellent there.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “I don’t see why not.” He shrugged. His strong, broad shoulders reminded me that I had a dare to fulfill. I didn’t always like having to use my womanly guise to get what I wanted, but it was effective. Bouncy’s challenge put me in the right frame of mind and I was ultimately fighting for my dream. If I could persuade Ellis by any means, sex would be the easiest. Still I’d try reasoning first.

  “If I go into accounting, I’ll go out of my mind,” I said. I was going for desperate, pleading with my eyes and begging with clasped hands.

  The H.R. chief smiled. I was sure he was thinking somewhere along the lines that I was already out of my mind. “Fabiola, is there another reason you don’t want the transfer?”

  What was he implying? I turned my pleading to anger. “You’ve seen my record. I don’t have a blemish on my credit, I’ve never been accused of stealing and my license is in good standing.”

  Ellis reached out and touched my shoulder, trying to calm me. “I believe you, it’s just hard to believe you’d go through all the trouble of school and the state exam just to let it…go…”

  His kind gesture of human contact was my chance. Remember the dare…I leaned my body into him and wrapped my arms around my hiring manager. Up against his desk, he had nowhere to go.

  But instead of leaning back and becoming uncomfortable, he held me in a soothing embrace. Keeping me at an arms distance while still giving me a refuge was a skill he must have
perfected a thousand times. Ellis Trost was a very intriguing man. He could both comfort with sincerity and abate any sexual contact with respect. His hands didn’t wander, his body didn’t react, and his breathing was steady. It might be more difficult to seduce him than Warren. He was strategically careful while I was in his arms. Damn.

  I gave him my best pouty face. “Please, if Warren doesn’t want me as his assistant, fine. But don’t transfer me to accounting. I’d rather go back to filing.”

  Ellis gently pushed me back and gave me a solemn stare. “Is there another problem? Is someone harassing you in accounting?”

  “Oh, no,” I stiffened. I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. Not for no good reason. “Everyone gets along great. My co-workers aren’t the problem.”

  He nodded. “I had to ask.”

  “I understand.”

  His blue eyes searched me in concern. “Why then?”

  “It’s a long complicated story. It has to do with family. Just trust me, you don’t want me in accounting. Not because I wouldn’t be good at it, but because it’s not what I want to do.”

  He nodded like he understood. “Okay.” Ellis expertly turned me around and escorted me to the door. “I will talk to War.”

  With expert ease he ushered me out. Damn. I couldn’t seduce him. Hmmm. I wondered about Warren. I hadn’t heard any rumors about him, except the ruthless business ones. Nothing about his sexual preferences. But, I knew how I could find out.

  Chapter 3

  Filing is the world’s most boring job, but I like it. I’m weird that way. Whatever stress I can relieve others from is no burden of mine. It’s also easy. Gossip comes naturally for those who slide files into their respective folders.

  David, or “Daaavid” as he liked to be called, stood flamboyant in his navy slacks and shirt assisting me with the huge pile Barbara kept adding to. David was the type never to wear white or black, proclaiming life is too short for boring colors. I think he stays away from bland because his job is too boring for him. He’d fit better as a bartender at a chic underground night club. But I figure a file clerk doesn’t have the most glamorous job and Daaavid has to express himself somehow.