The Billionaire Possession Series: The Complete Boxed Set

by Amelia Wilde

  “We have a few things coming in from a sale in California today,” she says, her tone casual. “Maybe you’d be happier in your office.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  She’s dead wrong. I won’t be happier in there. Not unless I get rid of that sofa. It’s not out of my reach, to do that. I could have someone take it out by the time I get back to the hallway. I’m not thrilled with the prospect of gaining a reputation for being a crazed man who gets personally affected by a sofa, though, so that’s out.

  Instead, I head back through the warehouse to another set of storerooms. The security on all my storage spaces is state-of-the-art, but these rooms are accessible only by me. These rooms are where I store items that will bring the highest prices. They’re where I store Caravaggios, jewelry from the most controversial dynasties in the world—the things that bring the most obsessive collectors out of the woodwork.

  They’re where I’ve stored some items for Ruby.

  The more I think about them, the more I’m certain that I need to do something, and soon.

  She’s not going to be happy.

  I laugh out loud. It doesn’t matter if she’s happy. I’m so pissed at her for what she did that I don’t care if she’s happy. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that getting attached to anything—especially women like her—is a mistake. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

  It happened. And now there’s no point in keeping any of this. The hurt in her eyes was sharp, deep—she’s not coming back. She has no reason to. As far as she’s concerned, every bit of this is lost.

  I punch in the key code on the pad outside the metal door to the second storeroom, and the lock on the door releases with a click. The lights come on automatically.

  Where do I start?

  Which thing would hurt her the most?

  Even looking into the room makes disgust surge in my throat. This is stupid. I might be relentless when it comes to seeking out the best pieces, the ones that will bring me the most in the end, but this isn’t me. Revenge sales? Those are for petty men who are as obsessed as their buyers.

  If I do this, I’m no better than they are.

  On the other hand, I’m not sure that I care.

  I slam my hand back down on the keypad, and when I push the door closed, the lock reengages.

  I lean back against the wall.

  This is a shitty day to be making decisions about anything.

  I take out my phone. If I call her, we could talk, and then—

  And then what? The sale has gone through, and even buying every piece back won’t change what I did. If that were an option, it would be the worst one. Ruby wouldn’t have space for all those things. She’d be right where she started, only with the weight of her parents’ entire collection around her neck. And I’m not going to be the fool who pays for a monument to a woman who doesn’t love him, to be stored into infinity in case she comes back.

  No. I’m going to let her go.

  But first, I’m going to get a drink.

  39

  Ruby

  There’s nothing left.

  I stand in the middle of the foyer of my parents’ house, breathing in the silence.

  Even the silence doesn’t have the same quality, now that the rooms are largely empty. Even my breath seems to echo against the empty walls.

  Levi’s team didn’t waste any time.

  My throat closes, and I swallow hard to keep the tears at bay. But I do. I didn’t come back here to cry. I came back here to figure out where the hell I’m going to go, now that things are over with the sale.

  Now that things are over with Levi.

  I move farther into the foyer, hitching my purse up over my shoulder. The wheels of my rolling suitcase go smoothly across the floor. It’s clean—very clean. Levi must have had cleaners come through after he had the last things moved to his warehouse.

  My legs are heavy climbing the stairs, and with every step, the suitcase in my hand gets heavier. I thought I would feel refreshed to be out of the city, but the closer I got to Conyers Farm, my rental car humming along the highway, the harder my heart pounded.

  It’s not the same here.

  Obviously, it’s not the same here. I didn’t expect it to be the same here, but I didn’t expect it to feel so…impersonal.

  I brace myself for more emptiness, but when I push open the door to what used to be my bedroom, I get a surprise.

  It’s still intact.

  Not entirely intact. There are no things left, but the bed is still made, pillowcases on the pillows, and there’s a single cashmere throw over the back of the armchair in the corner.

  Before I realize what I’m doing, I’ve taken my phone out and dialed my mom’s number. She picks up on the first ring.

  “Hi, honey!” Her voice is buoyant, happy, and it takes me by surprise. I feel like shit. Of course, that doesn’t mean everyone else is having a terrible week.

  “Mom—” I’m about to launch into the question on my mind, but then my brain shudders to life. “Did you get some good news?”

  “Oh, aren’t you sweet.” She laughs, the sound pure. “I think you know what good news we got.”

  “Right.” I clear my throat, try again. “Right! The sale. You must be—you must be thrilled.”

  “It’s hard to let some of those things go.” Her voice sobers for an instant. That’s exactly how long it lasts. “But Ruby, I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you did.” Mom laughs, and it almost rolls over into a big belly laugh. “You must have given him a run for his money!”

  “Who?”

  “Levi Blake!” She takes a breath before she continues. “When your father told me how much he was offering, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t expect that kind of return from the auction, much less the estate sale. I don’t know what you said to him, or what you did, but we’re getting our money’s worth.”

  My stomach twists. Mom was the one who warned me about Levi in the first place. I should have listened to her then. Only there’s a detail that doesn’t quite fit with the way she described the evil Blakes, ready to take us for all we had. “So you’re—you’re happy with the amount?”

  “Oh, God, Ruby, it’s such a relief. It’s more than we need to cover Henry’s bills. We might need to be a little creative with a permanent place in the city, but it’s looking like Henry won’t need to be at Sinai for longer than a few weeks—”

  “A few weeks? Really?”

  “Really! I was going to call you, but we’ve been doing some planning ever since your dad got the call, and I guess I got a little swept up in it—”

  “No, that’s fine, that’s—”

  “We’ll still sell the house, obviously, but that’s only a matter of—”

  “Speaking of the house—” Interrupting her isn’t my favorite thing to do, but I can’t keep my mouth shut. “I’m here right now. Do you mind if I stay a few days?”

  “You’re at the house?”

  “Yeah. I needed to get out of the city for a little while.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  I want to tell her. I want to tell her everything. That I didn’t take advantage of Levi Blake. That I didn’t even really try. That he did me a kindness—that he did them a kindness—and something in my heart couldn’t tolerate it. I want to tell her that I’m mortified to be feeling this way when everyone is getting exactly what they need. Maybe I’m getting what I need, too, and I can’t see it that way right now. I followed her advice. I let Levi do his work, and I was careful…in everything but falling for him.

  That was my only mistake.

  And I’m not going to be the one to drag her down. To drag my entire family down. I won’t do it.

  “Oh, you know, work stress. I had a few personal days.” I take in a slow breath and let it out. “I saw you kept the bed made up in my room.”

  “We did.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “And a guest suite. In case we need to stay a few nights
while we’re getting everything settled. There’s nothing in the fridge, but you can get a few things at the store.”

  “Got it.”

  “Enjoy yourself, honey. The pool’s all ready if you want to take a dip.” Then something else occurs to her. “Did you bring that Levi Blake with you? He must be smitten, given how he came through on that sale.”

  The ache in my chest almost keeps me from answering.

  Almost.

  “You know—” I laugh to prove it’s true, even though it hurts to do it. “It didn’t get that far.”

  “Are you sure about that?” She’s enjoying her own joke.

  I play along. “Very sure.”

  There’s a voice in the background. “Honey—” She covers the phone with her hand, muffling her voice, and then comes back. “Honey, I’ve got to go. Have a good time. Revel in the freedom.”

  “The freedom?”

  “All that space? Nothing weighing you down?” Mom sighs, a happy exhale. “Savor every minute.”

  40

  Levi

  “How many have you had?”

  Jasper grins down at me, but I see his eyes flick to the two empty glasses on the table in front of me. He sits down as the waitress appears at my elbow, takes the two empty glasses, and puts down another one. It’s whiskey, neat. I don’t answer Jasper because I can’t remember. The glasses are swept away as soon as I’m finished with them. All except these two. These two, the waitress lingers over. Maybe she’s trying to make a point.

  I straighten up. “A glass of water, too, please.” The waitress nods, then leans over to Jasper for his order. I don’t catch it. Then she’s gone again in a flash of her black cocktail dress. “What were we talking about?”

  “I just got here.” The grin on his face is a cautious one. “You seemed a little desperate for company on a Tuesday evening.”

  “Did I?”

  “According to your twenty text messages, yes. What the hell is going on with you?” Jasper’s tone is good-natured, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Isabella thinks you broke up with your girlfriend.”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Right, because you broke up with her. Is that what happened? She’s waiting for me to tell her. Didn’t want to leave work to come see for herself, but she’s dying to know.”

  “Not so much!” I take a swig of the whiskey and laugh, too loud.

  Jasper leans back in his chair. The waitress brings his drink, and he takes it in his hand, holding it there without drinking. “Not so much what, exactly?”

  What the hell do I have to lose by telling him what happened? I think he’s probably the only person in New York who knows about Ruby’s existence. No. That’s not right. Jasper—cutthroat, business-obsessed Jasper—is the only one in New York who knew that she caught my eye.

  I point at him from around my glass, the whiskey sloshing up the sides. “You told me she sounded like she was worth the chase.”

  “Did I?”

  “Yeah.” I remember it for sure.

  “And you chased her?” Jasper sips at his drink, looking at me over the rim of his glass.

  “Yes.”

  “And you caught her?”

  “I did.”

  “How many drinks have you had?”

  I put down the drink on the table, the thud muffled by the tablecloth. “Look. It hasn’t been that many.”

  “I think you’re done, after this.”

  “She’s the one who ended things.”

  Jasper’s eyes go wide. “No shit.”

  “She did.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Nothing.” I laugh, and the sound is bitter and lifeless. “I tried to help her, that was all.”

  “Did the auction go badly? Did you get screwed on the sales? I mean, what—”

  “I found a single buyer before we even went through with the auction.” The words feel heavy against my tongue, difficult to force out, and as I speak Jasper leans in, his forehead wrinkling. Why the hell is he doing that? Everything I’m saying is perfectly understandable.

  “A single buyer for everything?”

  “Hell yes.”

  He considers me, his face briefly blurring into a distorted version of itself. “How could that have possibly pissed her off?”

  “This woman—” I wave a hand in the air in what I’m positive is a decisive gesture. “She’s got a real problem.”

  Jasper laughs. “I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Don’t be a dick.” I pick up the glass of whiskey and empty it. “She wants to keep everything. She doesn’t want to give any of it up. I hated that look on her face, how...” I search for the word. “How helpless she looked whenever we’d walk through that house, and she’d tell me about all the shit she wished she could keep. And then last week—”

  “Jesus. Don’t tell me you’ve been sitting on this for a week.”

  “Days. Not a week.” It seems like an important distinction. I haven’t yet lived a week in this hell. Not yet. “Last week, I tell her the great news, and she loses it. Said she wanted to buy certain things back. She doesn’t have the money for that shit. She never told me—”

  “You made her walk through that house again and again, and you didn’t hold back anything for her?”

  I give Jasper a look that makes him burst out laughing. “I held stuff back. What do you think I am, a monster?”

  “No. You’re right. That was an unfair assumption. But you’re not a sentimental man. I’m surprised you held out for that long before you sold.”

  “I held out for longer than that.” I waggle my eyebrows at Jasper, who rolls his eyes. “Seriously. I still have some of it. Because I had a plan.”

  Jasper shakes his head. “This is ridiculous. Call her and tell her you fucked up.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “First off, she wouldn’t answer.” I stick one finger in the air, then bring up a second one beside it. “Second, I’m not into that bullshit. I don’t get attached. That’s why I’m good at what I do. The minute I call her, it’s all over.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it to me.”

  “I can’t turn into some guy who’s in love with every single thing that crosses his path. I don’t have time for that shit. I never did. I lost money on her sale.”

  “I’m sure you did. But didn’t you learn anything from it?”

  “Like what?” I sneer at Jasper.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps the fact that she’s more important to you than your money, or your stubborn insistence on letting everything go?” He makes air quotes around the last three words.

  “I let her go.”

  “Yeah, and look at you now.”

  “Apologizing isn’t going to fix the fact...the fact of what I did.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I saw her face, man. I know it.” I look him in the eye. “I’m not going back on the sale I made. It was—it was a good choice.”

  “In a way, it probably was. But this?” Jasper waves in my general direction. “This isn’t a good look on you. Come on. I’m going to give you a ride home.”

  “What’s the point?” Jasper comes around the table and pulls me out of my seat. The floor bucks beneath me. “She’s not there.”

  41

  Ruby

  I dip one hand into the pool and let the tiny waves tug my arm back and forth.

  It’s hot, almost noon, and I’ve been out here almost an hour. Or more than an hour. I’ve lost track of time. The thriller I have propped open on my knees is absolutely enthralling.

  It’s not what I should be working on. I should be buried in manuscripts from work.

  I can’t bring myself to read them.

  I’ve taken the pad from one of the lounge chairs and moved it right next to the pool’s edge, commandeering a pillow from inside to make the world’s most comfortable reading area. Yesterday, when it got too
hot, I dragged over one of the tables and arranged it in the perfect spot. I get enough sun to stay deliciously warm, but not so much that I get burned.

  It’s amazing, what you can do when you don’t have anything else to think about.

  It was sometime on Sunday, I think, that I stopped thinking of anything in particular. I was supposed to head back to the city on Monday, but now it’s Wednesday morning, and I haven’t the slightest urge to pack up the rental car.

  It’s so nice of Helen not to fire me over this. But I do technically have the time.

  I’ll go back by Friday. I really will.

  “Ruby?”

  The voice that echoes across the patio makes my heart stop, and I jerk upward in such a scramble that the paperback tumbles into the pool. “Shit!” I reach for it, but the motion throws me off-balance and I tip forward into the pool, plunging under the surface.

  It’s warm from the sun but not heated, and the water is much cooler than my skin. Cold, cold, cold. I break the surface with a gasp, pushing my hair out of my face. The paperback floats languidly toward the shallow end. I stroke over to where I can touch and snatch it out of the water.

  Mom stands at the pool staircase, looking down at me with laughter in her eyes. I toss the book back out of the pool, and it lands on the tiles with a wet thwack.

  “What’s all the stuff inside?” She calls out the question even though it’s only the two of us out here, and sound carries over the water.

  “Some things I bought.” I try to keep it casual, but my heart starts racing at the mention of it.

  It was Monday when I couldn’t take the emptiness of the house anymore. I couldn’t take the way my footsteps echoed when I crossed the lobby, or the way the living room was devoid of anything I recognized. It’s like coming home to find your entire city bulldozed. So I took matters into my own hands.

  There are a few places to buy antiques in Conyers Farm, and that’s where I spent all of Saturday afternoon. I didn’t get anything too outrageous. A few pieces of furniture. A few books—not really antiques, but wedged into a bookshelf in one of the stores. A writing desk that looks like Emily Dickinson could have used it.