Power Play - A MFMMM Reverse Harem Billionaire Romance (You Can't Resist a Bad Boy Book 6)

by Layla Valentine

  I can’t help but wonder what Dillon is holding back from telling me, though I suspect he’s merely prone to dramatics. I watch him with pursed lips, trying to convince myself that the long-term of this potential job will pay off. As much as I’d like to tell him to go screw himself, I can only hope there will be more opportunities to properly embarrass him once I have access to his place of work.

  It’s obvious that he’s holding something back, though I’m not quite sure what. I can only wonder what big reveal he expects to knock my socks off with, but I don’t expect it to be particularly surprising.

  The man seems rather absorbed in considering my expression, which I keep closed and blank for both my benefit and his. He rests a hand on the arm of my chair, curling his lips into an all-knowing, catlike smile. While I think he’s less impressive than he likes to give himself credit for, I can’t help but get caught up in that intense gaze he fixes upon me.

  His ocean blue eyes seem as deep as the Pacific Ocean, holding a depth that man alone could never hope to fathom. It’s obvious that he intends to capture me in the deep and consuming grasp of his gaze, but I’m not so easily snared.

  “Well, there’s a small matter that we need to discuss before you agree to take this job,” he murmurs, and I fight not to roll my eyes a third time.

  While I realize I’ve seemed rather unimpressed by his prior assertions, I also know that it would do my cause little good to dismiss him entirely. All the same, I can’t help but exhale a soft and derisive snort. As far as I’ve come, he can’t expect that I would drop this job so easily—no matter what he outlines as the job requirements.

  “I’ve already agreed to take the job. Small matter or not, you’ll find that I’ll not be easily swayed, Mr. Bradshaw,” I say bluntly.

  His lips quirk in a smile that seems almost mischievous, and he draws away to fully consider me. I feel inclined to draw away from his stare, but I remain calmly poised. I meet his gaze, raising a brow daringly.

  “It’s simply regarding your expectations for this particular line of employment.” He pauses as I move to interrupt him, holding up a hand to halt me. “I imagine, upon receiving information regarding this job, you expected to be cleaning the SharkTEC Financial offices. Am I particularly off base with this assumption?”

  Uncertainty creeps up within me, and I can’t help but scrutinize him.

  “If I’m to be working as a maid under your employment, it would only make sense that I’ll be cleaning your place of work,” I say coolly, resisting the desire to snap at him.

  As foolish as this line of thinking seems to be, I can’t imagine that he would be leading me in this direction for no reason. There’s obviously something deeper to this job he’s managed to capture me within, and in spite of myself, I can’t deny my eagerness to see in what direction our conversation will turn. He considers me with a wry smile as I try to discern what topsy-turvy direction he could be leading me in.

  “That would make sense, I suppose, but wouldn’t that qualify as a more janitorial position? To work as a maid implies that you would be cleaning a home, would it not?” he counters.

  I narrow my eyes at him, unable to deny the shivers that the implication sends shooting up my spine. He can’t mean…there’s no way he would hire me to clean his actual home. As far as I’m aware, Dillon Bradshaw allows only a select few into his house. It seems unfathomable that he would hire me to clean his home with so little information regarding my past.

  “I’m afraid I don’t follow, Mr. Bradshaw,” I tell him, arms crossed defensively.

  He seems all the more delighted by my obliviousness, and it’s all I can do to keep from bolting from the room as he draws nearer to me. He rests a hand on the back of my chair, just above my left shoulder, and I watch him with an unamused expression.

  “Then let me spell it out for you, Miss Law, seeing as you seem so intent upon playing dumb. I don’t need any further aid in cleaning my offices. You’ll find that I’m rather well staffed in the janitorial division. You will play a much more important role; I need a personal maid, for my home. I know that’s not what you may have expected when applying, but you seem to be rather flexible regarding what’s required of you,” he explains.

  In spite of myself, trepidation wells up within me. I’m not particularly enthralled by the idea of entering his home for any reason, let alone to clean up his dirty laundry.

  I struggle to come up with a reason to decline the position, but I can’t deny that the pros seem to far outweigh the cons. It’s a simple enough job, assuming he’s akin to the usual wealthy homeowners that I usually work for. He likely owns some ridiculously priced penthouse apartment.

  “You could have been upfront to begin with, Mr. Bradshaw. Your hesitation leads me to believe there’s a reason you didn’t outright tell me that I would be cleaning your home. Are you expecting to have a specific sort of care, the likes of which you couldn’t reasonably list on a normal job posting?” I ask, meeting his gaze with a bored look. It wouldn’t be the first time some rich bastard hired me under the premise of an innocent job, only to expect me to suck his cock at any given command.

  Dillon’s eyes widen in shock at the insinuation, and I struggle to smother a laugh as he sputters incoherently. He shakes his head fervently, circling back towards his original position, the table providing a stable barrier between us. He laces his fingers on the tabletop, watching me with an expression that’s torn between indignity and surprise.

  “Miss Law, I assure you that my intentions are nothing if not pure. I’ve skirted the subject, as it’s likely unfamiliar for you to be offered such a prestigious job in the actual home of an employer. While I have no doubt that you’ve worked in the cleaning industry before…” He pauses, looking somewhat haughty, “I’m also certain you’ve never been offered such a privileged position. I wouldn’t ask just anyone to clean my home. There is a certain measure of confidentiality in this position, and I expect you to maintain an air of professionalism while under my employment,” he states firmly.

  I can’t help but smile, as it’s quite obvious I’ve hit a nerve.

  “Oh, Mr. Bradshaw, I assure you that I plan to keep this discreet. You wouldn’t be the first man of wealth that I’ve worked for; I understand that you have things you may want to keep private, and I certainly respect that. Now, if that’s all that stands to be discussed, I do believe we can carry on with the arrangements,” I say blithely, standing and offering my hand with a confident smile.

  He hesitates for the briefest of moments before gripping my hand in his own, giving it a firm shake. His grip lingers on my hand for a moment, and he meets my gaze with a rather curious look.

  As his ocean blue eyes lock upon my own, I can only wonder what he seeks to find in my stare. I’m certain he has no clue about my intent to ruin him, but there’s obviously something giving him pause as our eyes meet.

  He draws his hand away slowly, the pads of his fingertips brushing against my skin as he pulls away. He tilts his head curiously, keeping his gaze fixed firmly upon my own.

  After a moment, his lips curl in a smile. While I have no idea what seems to have set alight such delight in him, he seems entirely too pleased by the conversation that has transpired. I narrow my eyes, intent upon asking what has him so ecstatic. Before I can voice the question, he speaks.

  “You have beautiful eyes, Miss Law, quite unlike any I’ve ever seen before. They’re rather unique in the radiant shade of green that glimmers within,” he muses.

  I feel my cheeks color in response to the observation, trying to calm the increase in my pulse. He’s just trying to get on my good side; that much is obvious. I’m not prepared to let him win me over that easily. As much as I’m tempted to return the compliment, finding his deep blue orbs rather enchanting as well, I manage to swallow the comment.

  “That is very kind of you, Mr. Bradshaw. As it were, I would think it more appropriate to discuss the terms of my employment. Am I to begin my service today?”
I inquire, keeping my voice calm in an attempt to keep control of the situation.

  He tilts his head curiously, his eyes glinting with something akin to delight.

  “Of course. Please see my secretary who will take you through a few documents. Once those are signed, she’ll give you the key to my penthouse apartment. From there, I’ll leave you to your own devices,” he explains with a faint smile.

  He walks out of the room without addressing me further, drawing his cellphone out of his pocket. Presumably, he’s dialing the associate he had been conversing with before breaking away to discuss our terms of engagement, as it were.

  I watch him go, unable to keep a snide look from crossing my face. In spite of how polite he’s been to me today, I can’t forget that he’s the reason I lost my permanent position at Stratton and Company. It’s likely that he’s slipping away to discuss absorbing another small business, from which he will tell any number of employees that their services are no longer needed.

  Although I should be grateful that he didn’t recognize me, I can’t help the bitterness that rises up within me. He had been the one to tell me, to my very face, that I was no longer needed. He may have commented on the beauty of my eyes, but I can only dismiss that as simple platitudes.

  He seems to think he can win over any woman that he cares to give a second glance to. If he expects me to win me over, he has another thing coming.

  Shaking off the thoughts of my ill intent, I saunter out of the room to meet with Dillon’s secretary. She greets me with a kind smile, rummaging through a pile of papers. She reaches into a drawer in her desk, withdrawing a key and pressing it into my hand. Giving me the address to Mr. Bradshaw’s apartment complex, she explains that his penthouse is the only one on the top level.

  Though I might have suspected as much, I pretend not to have known that tidbit. I manage to force a relatively surprised expression, pretending to be enthralled by the idea of tending to such an impressive location. The secretary simply smiles, reading off some instructions on a stack of papers that I assume she received from Dillon. I listen attentively, accepting the papers as she offers them to me.

  “Good luck, Miss Law. I’m sure you will find working for Mr. Bradshaw is an utter delight,” she says, drumming her fingers atop her desk.

  I nod vigorously, ignoring the part of me that wants to respond sarcastically. Though the secretary doesn’t know it, it’s likely only a matter of time before she’s dismissed in much the same matter as I was, two years ago.

  Skimming over the papers, I stalk towards the elevator with purpose. I press the button that will take me to the ground floor, stepping inside with a group of people in suits. I pretend to pay little mind to the conversation taking place around me, but I hang on every word regarding the CEO of SharkTEC Financial. Dillon’s employees seem all too thrilled by their jobs, unaware that their livelihoods could be ripped out from under them at any moment.

  Swallowing my desire to warn them, I stride confidently out of the SharkTEC building, considering the map that has been printed out for me. It seems that Dillon’s penthouse apartment is only around the corner.

  I’m not quite sure how much time I’ll have to explore before he’ll arrive, but I plan to make the most of every moment. There has to be something in his home, something that will ruin his life as completely as he ruined mine. It’s only a matter of time before Mr. Bradshaw finds himself knocked from the pedestal he is so firmly rooted upon.

  As the towering apartment complex comes into view, I force myself to swallow a villainous laugh. Though Dillon doesn’t yet know it, his downfall lies just around the corner. I simply have to find a way to ensure it.

  Chapter Four

  Dillon

  In spite of the feeling that I’ve met Miss Law sometime prior to our discussion, I can’t help but get caught up in her sharp attitude. While most women are immediately enamored by my presence, Charlotte seems less easily wooed by a smile and a flick of the wrist.

  I can’t say I find any fault in that, and truth be told, it’s refreshing to find someone who doesn’t immediately swoon over me. The discussion we have regarding her job seems to put us on rather unsteady terrain, but when the conversation is over, she seems eager to start her new job.

  As a matter of fact, she seems beyond eager—as if she’s been waiting for such an opportunity for a lifetime.

  When I dismiss her, I try to banish thoughts of the gorgeous woman to the back of my mind. I don’t expect to see her until I’m done with the day’s work, and I have much to discuss regarding another merger that’s in the works.

  While I don’t intend to say as much, I have no plans to give up any of my powers as the CEO of SharkTEC Financial. The other company will likely be dissolved and assimilated into my workforce, with the CEO of said company being lucky to keep any position at all. Just another case where I must take care of number one.

  Despite my best attempts to think of anything except those intense green eyes, I find myself stumbling in the discussion of the merger. It’s a mistake that’s unforgivable in my world, though I’m quick to remedy any missteps when it comes to the long-term discussion.

  When I almost accidentally reveal my intent to fire my potential ‘business partner’ as soon as our companies merge, I quickly change the subject towards more favorable conditions. Specifically, I outline the potential profit to be made.

  Greed is something that even the best of men find themselves gripped by. I’m not as presumptuous as to imply that I myself go without the stingy tendencies of those in the business world. Profit is what makes the world go round, and I’m not free of its gnarled talons by any means. I simply manage to bide my time when necessary, waiting for the opportune moment while another man may leap at any given moment.

  I make quick work of outlining the path I will be taking alongside my temporary business partner, skimming over the details where he will no longer be needed. The work is tedious, and tiring. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I intend to make the most of the workday, and then make my way home to perhaps indulge in another moment with my newest employee.

  It won’t do to become too enamored by her presence, but I can’t deny that I have indulged the thought of using her services beyond what is expected of a typical maid. The thought has clearly crossed her mind as well, though I don’t plan to reveal just how much I’ve been thinking about that.

  The remainder of the workday is agonizingly long, and I can only hope my beautiful new servant will still be at my place when I finally find the time to slip away for the evening. Where there are a dozen mergers, there are a dozen additional business partners seeking to expand their businesses with my aid.

  I’m in the midst of speaking to one of these business partners when the clock strikes six, marking the end of my work day. I make quick work of ending the conversation, promising to continue the discussion the following day. The older gentleman on the other line is reluctant to let me go, but it’s obvious that he realizes how little power he holds.

  It must seem a lonely life that I’m living, and I can’t deny that companionship is something I lack. For the time being, however, I plan to make my way home and enjoy the rest of my evening.

  Perhaps a nice glass of red wine, takeout from my favorite sushi place. I could afford a personal chef, of course, and while it’s an occasional indulgence, I can’t justify keeping one on hand at all times. The only company I expect when I make my way home is the tantalizing presence of my newly hired maid.

  While I can’t outright display my desire for her, it would be foolish not to enjoy her company while I’m able.

  Yes, this Charlotte Law seems the perfect company to round off a busy day with.

  The trip home is a short one, as always. While I’ve yet to identify Charlotte’s car, I have a feeling that she’ll still be in my apartment when I arrive. After all, I’ve turned in earlier than usual. Not early enough to send my staff into a tizzy, but early enough that I should be able to catch the wom
an in the midst of her work. It’s only been a few hours since I sent her to my penthouse, after all. Even the most efficient of workers couldn’t have the entire place cleaned in such a short amount of time.

  Struggling to shake off my eagerness to see her, I step into the elevator and press the button for the top floor. The elevator music starts up, and I find myself feeling somewhat more cheerful than usual. I lean against the back wall of the elevator, closing my eyes as I rise through the floors of the building.

  Moments later, the elevator dings to indicate that I’ve arrived at my floor. The doors open, and I step out, fumbling in my pockets for a moment to find my keys. With baited breath, I approach the door to my apartment, pausing outside for the briefest of moments.

  I listen quietly, attempting to discern whether my present fascination still lingers inside. Unable to hear any distinguishing sounds, I unlock the door and step inside. While I don’t immediately see her, I can smell the faintest hint of her perfume as I walk further into my apartment.

  I find her in my bedroom, and it seems that I startle her with my presence. She jolts upright, turning to face me with an awkward smile.

  “I didn’t expect you home so early,” she murmurs, and I can’t help but smile back at her. If she weren’t here, I would have likely burned the midnight oil in my office.

  “I managed to wrap things up at the office more quickly than usual, so I sent everyone home a bit early,” I say dismissively, unwilling to let her know how eager I’ve been to see her.

  She bites her lip, subtly nudging a drawer shut with her hip.

  “That’s wonderful. I’m almost finished, I think. I have a few final touches to tidy and sort out, and then I’d like to be sure everything is completed to your satisfaction,” she says softly.

  It’s obvious that she’s struggling to keep her eyes off of me, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s entertaining the same thoughts that I am. Of course, I doubt she’s considering the pros and cons of wearing a French maid’s outfit to work.