The Merger: A Billionaire Fake Marriage Romance (Playboys of New York Book 3)

by JA Low

  “You’re welcome to watch, Lenna.” Anderson chuckles.

  Lenna’s face turns red as she hightails it to the elevator. The ding lets us know she’s gone. I feel bad that we practically just kicked her out of our apartment after a pretty traumatic experience because I find my husband incredibly sexy.

  “Fuck, Andy, that speech was hot.”

  “Yeah.” He grins down at me.

  “Yep. Talking all monogamous and husband-like.” My voice dips huskily.

  “Didn’t think long-term commitment turned you on?” He smiles broadly at me.

  “It seems to me that on you, it does.” Biting my bottom lip, I look him over hungrily.

  Anderson picks me up and takes a couple of steps and deposits me on the kitchen counter. “Let me show you how committed I am to your pussy, then.” As he lifts the hem of my dress and disappears underneath it, my head falls back at the first swipe of his tongue.

  39

  Emma

  Everything seems right in the world again. After a very bumpy patch, Lenna and Logan have decided, for the sake of their baby, they are going to start again and put all the bullshit aside so they can be a family. I couldn’t be happier for them both. Lenna even moved in over the weekend. The timing sucks because Logan, Noah, EJ, and Anderson are hightailing it to Australia later today—they are scouting for a new Stone Group location down there with EJ. I’m surprised they haven’t worked with EJ before this, but Anderson said they have wanted to for years. However, the timing has never been right until now.

  Australia seems such a long way to start a crazy adventure like this together. I’m going to be meeting Anderson in Bali after their trip. Chloe and I have a photo shoot set up at one of their hotels with a client. Hello, girls’ trip! Okay, we will be working, but I’m sure cocktails can be consumed while we work.

  A good friend of mine is launching her new collection, and we thought The Stone Group’s hotel in Bali would be the perfect location. The hotel boutique is even going to stock them in-store, symbiosis, Anderson likes to call it, which makes me laugh because it’s a strange analogy, but I guess in some ways he’s right. It’s the perfect fit. They get gorgeous new marketing pictures, and we get the most magnificent backdrop for the client to showcase her apparel. But what I am genuinely excited about is Anderson and I having some time together outside of New York, on vacation as a couple.

  I know we are married and all. I mean, the marriage is still fake, but the relationship isn’t. Honestly, he isn’t at all who I pictured myself with, but now that we are here, I couldn’t imagine my life without him.

  Urgh, I’m turning into Chloe with stupid love hearts in my eyes.

  Is it love between Anderson and me? Maybe. I think so. I don’t know if I’ve ever been in love, but I guess what Anderson and I have is pretty close to it.

  Does he love me? He hasn’t outright said it, but I see it in the little things he does for me like rubbing my feet when I get home from work or him using his tongue to relax me.

  “Okay, I’m all packed.” Anderson emerges from his room with his suitcase in hand.

  “Is it weird if I say I’m going to miss you?”

  Wrapping myself around him, I reply, “As weird as if I said I was going to miss you, too.”

  Leaning forward, he kisses me with heat. Things escalate rather quickly, and next thing I know, he has flipped me over the side of the sofa, has my skirt flipped up, and is fucking the ever-loving shit out of me.

  This is what I am going to miss.

  Eventually, once we calm down from our multiple orgasms, he pulls me in for one last kiss.

  “Can’t wait to see you in Bali.” He kisses me again and again.

  “Don’t worry, there will be loads of phone sex. I won’t leave you hanging.” Anderson grins as he kisses me again.

  Yes, it’s official, we are turning into one of those couples who are unable to leave each other.

  “You better go.” I reluctantly pull myself away from him.

  “Fine.” He lets out a sigh. “Just be ready for me in Bali because that pussy is going to get the biggest workout,” he says with a grin as he kisses me for the last time.

  “Look forward to it.”

  He’s out the door with one last look, and I feel a little emotional over his leaving.

  Mmm, this is not good. Shake it off. You are an independent woman. You do not need to be with your husband twenty-four-seven. And with that, I head into the office to try to keep myself busy.

  The boys arrived in Australia, exhausted, and they were heading straight into meetings. Anderson and I weren’t able to speak for long but enough for a quickie, nonetheless. It was great hearing his voice again after so long—it takes an eternity to get to Australia—and I couldn’t keep the grin off my face.

  “You all packed for Bali?” FaceTiming Chloe, I give her a smile.

  “Yep. Sure am. I’m so excited about this vacation. I need it.” Chloe sighs.

  “Me, too,” I agree with her. “You still going out tonight with those girls?” I am finding it really hard to hide my annoyance over Chloe saying yes to catching up with her old ‘Wives and Girlfriends’ or WAGs from Walker’s team. Chloe is too nice for her own good. She thinks those women are still her friends. Let’s face it, where in the hell were they when Walker was talking shit about Chloe in the press? They didn’t stand up and defend her, and their men were too busy supporting their teammate and throwing Chloe to the wolves.

  “I know you’re not happy about it, Ems.” Chloe’s eyes narrow on me. “It’s just one drink for old times’ sake. I really like Bethany. We were always friends, the other girls I could care less about,” she adds.

  “I’m going to be at your place bright and early, so you better be awake and not be complaining of a hangover,” I warn her.

  “Promise.” Chloe grins.

  “Fine. Have fun, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  The next morning I’m out the front of Chloe and Noah’s brownstone when it’s still dark. It’s so fucking early, I try and stifle a yawn. Begrudgingly, I stomp up the front steps and press the doorbell, the rings echoe through her home. I wait a couple of moments to hopefully hear footsteps coming down the stairs, but all I hear is silence. I push the bell again, and again, and again.

  “Fucking hell, Chlo, I told you not to go out and get drunk, the traffic will be a bitch getting to the airport, and I can’t miss this flight. I’ll leave your fucking ass here.”

  Impatiently, I keep my finger on the doorbell for a good minute and still silence. Pulling out my phone from my pocket, I call her, but it rings out. Huh. I try again and again. Another five minutes pass, and nothing.

  Shit, is she okay?

  Did she come home and fall over and knock herself out?

  I try to peer through the side windows to see if I can see anything, but the curtains are pulled. Dammit. I take a step back and look up at the three-story-high brownstone—I can’t climb all the way to the top window to see in. Shit!

  Walking down the stairs to street level, I turn and take the stairs to the lower level to see if I can get inside from there.

  I rattle a couple of windows, but everything’s locked up tight.

  There it occurs to me that she might have stayed next door. She used to rent the brownstone next door—maybe she stayed there last night. Rushing over, I take the stairs two at a time and press the bell. Over and over again.

  Nothing!

  I call her again and still nothing.

  Where the fuck is, she? I’m starting to panic now. Chloe is not this irresponsible. She wouldn’t fuck around like this, not today. Rushing back over to Noah’s brownstone, I head downstairs and open the side fence, then head into the back courtyard.

  “Chloe,” I call her name. Nothing but silence greets me.

  No.

  Shaking my head, I know something’s not right.

  Something is terribly wrong.

  I try all the doors and windows on th
e lower level, but they are all locked up tight.

  “Fuck,” I scream my frustration.

  I’m going to have to break in. It’s a matter of life and death, and I’m sure Noah will be okay with me doing it. Taking off my jacket, I wrap it around my hand and find a window to smash. Finding a side window, I brace myself and punch the glass.

  Geez, that fucking hurt.

  And to make matters worse, the damn thing didn’t smash.

  What the hell kind of glass is this?

  I repeatedly try it until it finally shatters, then I stick my hand through the broken window and unlock it. Yes, I’m in, finally. I rush through the brownstone calling Chloe’s name as loud as I can.

  Nothing.

  Something has happened.

  Something is wrong.

  I feel sick.

  Her suitcases are in the kitchen, ready. Fuck. Rushing upstairs, I round the corner to her bedroom, but she’s not in there.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I’m going to check the other place in case she was that intoxicated she’s staying there. Rushing back out the front door, I head on over to the other home and do the exact same thing breaking a downstairs window. I call out her name, but I am still greeted with fucking silence. I rush up and down the levels looking everywhere for her, but she’s nowhere to be found.

  I fall into a crumpled mess and cry.

  Where the hell are you, Chloe? Giving myself a couple of moments to lose it so I can clear my head, I grab my phone again and call the one person I know who will help me—Anderson. His phone rings and rings and rings. Come on, come on, pick up the phone.

  Eventually, he does. “Hello.” He sounds so happy when he answers.

  “Andy, something’s happened.”

  The line goes quiet, there’s a murmur, and then he’s back.

  “Babe, what’s the matter? Are you okay?” I can hear the concern in his voice. Tears are streaming down my face as I wipe them away from my face.

  “Chloe’s missing.”

  “What?”

  “She’s not here. I broke into both of the brownstones, and she’s not here. Her stuff is, but she isn’t. She went out with some friends last night for drinks, and that’s the last I heard from her.”

  “Fuck,” Anderson curses through the phone. “Leave it with me. We will be on the next plane home. Okay?”

  “Okay.” My voice breaks. “But what do I do?”

  “Have you called the girls?”

  “No.”

  Oh shit, maybe she’s with them. No. Otherwise, they would have had her here on time.

  “I don’t think she’s with them. They wouldn’t let her miss this flight, babe. It’s too important.”

  “True,” he agrees. “Listen… you need to call the office and organize someone else to go to Bali, babe. Unless you can…” he lets the words fall away.

  “Like hell, I can,” my voice raises an octave on the last few words.

  “That’s what I thought, but you can’t let your client down, Ems. I know this is shit, but you have to get someone else to take your place.”

  “Okay,” I agree with him.

  “Good girl,” he reassures me through the phone. “Shit is about to hit the fan down here, so if you can’t get in touch with me, text.”

  “Okay.”

  “We will find her, Ems, I promise,” he tells me. He sounds so confident that I believe him. “Oh…” he stops before hanging up, “… I love you.” He finishes the phone call, hanging up on me before I get a chance to reply.

  After hanging up, I call Ariana and Lenna and tell them what’s happened. Ariana explains she knows someone on the NYPD and will call to see if he can help. We arrange to meet at my place later.

  “Oh my God.” Lenna rushes in and wraps herself around me as we break down in tears. “What the hell is going on?”

  “I don’t know.” Raking my hand through my hair, I reiterate, “I just don’t know.” Then my eyes drift to Lenna’s belly. “Hey…” I grab her and continue, “… you can’t stress, you hear me,” I warn. “You have precious cargo on board.” Lenna’s hand rubs her little protruding belly. “Chloe wouldn’t want you to put your baby in harm for her.”

  “I know.” She sniffles, and I pull her into my arms, reassuring her that everything is going to be okay.

  Later that night, Ariana arrives at my apartment with a good-looking man beside her. She rushes toward Lenna and me, and we hug each other, then we all break down. Ariana moves away and wipes the tears from her cheeks.

  “This is a friend of mine, Detective Smith Johnson.” She indicates to the man.

  “I’m sorry to be meeting you all like this.” His deep timbered voice echoes through the room. “I promise you, we are going to find your friend,” he reassures us. “I’m going to have to ask some questions if that’s okay?”

  Nodding my head, I explain everything that happened last night and today.

  40

  Anderson

  We’ve contacted Jackson Connolly, and he has been able to track down and hack into the girls’ phones who went out with Chloe. They were all clean except for one, Ciara. Stella then found a connection between this girl and Tracey, Chloe’s ex-best friend, and the woman who was knocked up by her ex-fiancé.

  It’s a long-ass flight from Australia back to New York, especially when your life’s love is missing. Poor Noah, he’s a fucking mess, and I don’t blame him. If something like this had happened to Emma, I would be moving heaven and earth to find her—no matter the cost, no matter what. That’s why those three little words fell from my lips as Emma cried on the phone to me.

  I felt helpless, unable to comfort her. I should have been by her side in those moments because she needed me. Needs me, and I wasn’t there for her. At that moment, it was like a damn lightbulb going off, and I knew I was in love with her. All the bullshit emotion stripped everything away, especially my damn ego, and I knew at that moment, she is it for me. I am head over and heels in love with her.

  That I want a future with her beyond this stupid prank of a marriage.

  That I want to marry her for real this time.

  I want a family with her.

  I mean, I’ll even be a stay-at-home Dad if she wants to continue her business. Let’s face it, I don’t need the money.

  I just wish this fucking plane would fly faster so I can tell her all this.

  What feels like an eternity until we eventually land back in New York, we head to Noah’s brownstone where the police are waiting for us. We jump out of our town cars and head toward the brownstone, which is roped off by the police.

  “Hold up there, sir. This is a crime scene,” the young policeman says to Noah.

  “I know. It’s my fucking girlfriend who’s missing, and that’s my house.” Noah is seconds away from laying hands on the young guy.

  “Mr. Stone, I’m Detective Smith Johnson,” the stony-faced Detective greets me. “I’m a friend of Ariana’s,” he elaborates.

  “Any news?” Noah asks, hope lacing his voice.

  “Let’s talk inside.” The detective indicates to the brownstone as he pulls the police tape to the side for us, and we follow in after him. “This is your house, but please sit,” the detective tells us.

  “Andy.” Emma rushes out from the hallway toward me.

  Fuck she looks so beautiful. My heart soars when I see her.

  “Baby.” I rush to her, pulling her into my arms as she breaks down. The room fades away as all I can focus on is her. All I could think about on that long-ass flight was if I lost Emma, how would I feel. And the only answer I could come up with was devastated. I’d be lost too. The thoughts of Emma never being in my life filled me with such dread that I felt sick all the way home. This unfortunate experience has solidified my feelings for her, maybe even made me realize them a lot sooner than I would have liked them to, but I do know I’m never letting her go.

  “I’ve missed you so much.” She cries into my hard chest as her arms
wrap around my body tightly. Kissing her head, I tell her how much I have missed her.

  Eventually, she pulls her face from mine. “I love you, too, Andy.” Her voice is barely a whisper as she looks up at me, her jade-green eyes bloodshot from a day’s worth of tears.

  Leaning forward, so our foreheads are touching, I reply, “I love you so much, Ems.” Placing a tiny kiss on her lips, now is not the time for a full-on public-display- of-affection session. “We’ll talk more when we get home, okay?” She nods and gives me a small smile, then we join the rest of the crew and listen to what the detective has to say.

  We are both exhausted by the time we get back to our apartment—there wasn’t anything else we could do. EJ and Logan stayed with Noah tonight. The boys told me to go home and rest. I felt terrible leaving them, but Noah told me to take Emma home and look after her—that it was what I could do for him. So that’s what I have done. Emma’s a walking zombie. She seems a little spaced out but doesn’t let me go.

  “How about I run you a bath?”

  She nods her head sadly, and I busy myself with that task. Once I’ve got the bath ready with all her special things, I walk back into our bedroom and find her lying very still against the bed. Her eyes are barely blinking as she stares at the wall.

  “Ems?” Calling her name as I kneel before her, those jade eyes move to mine. “The bath is ready.”

  Emma nods but doesn’t move. I scoop her up, and she buries her face into my chest. She’s almost limp as I walk her to the bathroom. Setting her feet on the floor, I slowly undress her, then myself, before picking her up and placing us both into the warm bath. Bubbles cascade over the edge as we sink beneath them. I nestle her between my legs as she lays back against my bare skin. My fingers find the knots in her shoulder blades, and I begin to work on them. The room is silent, except for the occasional moans from Emma’s lips as I take on a tight knot.