The Billionaire’s Big Risk
The Billionaire Pact Book 3
Christie Logan
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Also by Christie Logan
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Aaron Sinclair sat on his sofa, drink in hand, trying to make sense of his long, strange day when his cell phone pinged.
He reached for it, thinking one of his sons was texting, then frowned when he looked at the screen. It was Summer.
Can I stay at ur place 2nite?
He sighed in frustration and shook his head. The girl was in trouble again. What else was new?
Where are you? He responded.
Out front. Ur snooty doorman won’t let me in.
He groaned. What the—
After dragging himself to his feet, he headed for the elevator and descended twenty-one floors to the lobby. Once there, he nodded politely to the concierges at the front desk who greeted him by name, then strode to the main entrance.
Viktor pulled the door open for him. “Good evening, Mr. Sinclair.”
“Hello, Viktor. Did you happen to see—”
“Aaron! Right here!” A young woman raced down the sidewalk toward him, her dark, turquoise-streaked hair streaming behind her. She wore a baggy overcoat and floppy bedroom slippers. Too-large slippers, obviously, because she lost one of them on the way and had to circle back to jam her foot back in.
Summer skidded to stop beside him. “Here I am.” She gave the doorman a glare. “He wouldn’t let me in. Shooed me away like a stray dog or something.”
Taking in her outfit, it was all Aaron could do not to roll his eyes. “Can’t say I blame him. What are you wearing?”
The doorman’s face turned red. “I’m sorry, Mr. Sinclair. I thought she was—”
“It’s all right, Viktor.” He took Summer by the elbow. “You. Come with me.”
“Wow. Grouch,” she grumbled. Dragging her feet, she sneered at Viktor. “My dad used to have your job and he was way better at it than you are. Nyah.” She stuck out her tongue.
Aaron gave her arm a little shake. “Act your age.” She was behaving more like a twelve-year-old than a girl of twenty.
He escorted her to the elevator and the concierges, bless them, didn’t bat an eye. It wasn’t their job to question the billionaires residing in their multi-million-dollar condos.
On the way up to his place, he gave her the once-over. “Care to tell me what fashion statement you’re trying to make with that outfit?”
Her shoulders sagged as she let go a defeated sigh. “Eddie and I had an argument. He got really mad and pushed me—”
Rage tore up his chest. “He put his hands on you?”
“He didn’t hit me or anything. Just pushed me into the hall and locked me out of the apartment. I didn’t have my keys. I was barefoot. All I had on was my long t-shirt that barely covers my…whatever. My neighbor Mrs. Gonzales felt sorry for me. She loaned me her husband’s old coat and slippers.”
“You had your phone, though. You should have called the cops.”
“I don’t want to get him in trouble.” Her voice was small. She even looked childlike, disappearing into the overcoat that swallowed her slender form. “He feels bad enough, not having a job. He’s depressed.”
“He’s lazy,” Aaron countered. “And he’ll never find a job sitting on his butt all day playing video games.”
Summer grimaced. “That’s what we fought about. But I should have known better, getting on his case when he’s in a bad mood.”
“He’s always in a bad mood. You need to boot him to the curb, Summer. You’re busting your tail going to school and working while he’s just sitting on his, letting you support him. He’s using you.”
Her expression went flat. “Look, I appreciate you letting me crash here, but if you’re gonna throw dirt on Eddie, just take me back downstairs. I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”
“Don’t be stupid.” The words came out more sharply than he intended. He knew she wasn’t kidding—she was that stubborn. They’d had this argument before and she’d walked. He wouldn’t risk that happening again, her going out onto the streets. Softening his tone, he said “All right. I’ll leave Eddie alone. Just promise you’ll stay. You’re not safe out there this time of night.”
Her demeanor eased and she smiled. “You’re so good to me, Aaron.”
He smiled back. It wasn’t hard to be good to her. She was a sweet girl, terrible taste in boyfriends notwithstanding. Smart and loyal. And even if she were none of those things, he’d still look out for her. He’d promised her father.
The elevator stopped, letting them out at his door. He unlocked it, then ushered her in. In the living room, she drifted over to the tall windows that looked down on the glowing neon and glittering lights of the city. “Man. I never get tired of this.”
“Hmm.” He took too much for granted about his life and all the privileges he enjoyed. Seeing them through Summer’s eyes—the gleaming oak floor, the 12-feet high ceilings, the lush carpeting and top of the line furnishings—brought him down a peg. And reminded him how lucky he was. But more important than his material wealth was his personal good fortune. He had two sons, both fine young men whom he loved more than his own life. Which was more than many men could say, including Chris Kozlowski.
Chris. Thinking of his old friend, Aaron sank onto the sofa, suddenly wiped. What a day. What a monster of a day.
Turning from the window, Summer spied the glass of whiskey he’d left unfinished on the coffee table. Her face lit up. “Can I have some?”
He closed his eyes. “No, you cannot. You’re not legal.”
She snorted. “Hate to break it to you, but these lips have touched alcohol.”
“I’m sure they have, but you’re not getting any from me. But if you’re hungry check the fridge. My housekeeper generally leaves something for me there before she heads home.”
She muttered something under her breath. A few moments later he felt the cushion beside him sink. “Hey.”
His eyelids rose at her soft tone. He found her gazing at him, her eyes brimming with concern. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You just seem…I don’t know…”
“No, I’m not,” he answered, too weary to put on a good face. “I’ve had a crap day.”
“Yeah?”
“Saw an old friend. We haven’t been in touch for a while but…he’s very sick.”
That was putting it mildly. Chris’ words clanged in his brain: “I’m dying.”
“Dude, that sucks. I’m really sorry.”
“Thanks, doll.”
“And after your crappy day, here I come to make things worse.” Her face crumpled in shame.
“No,” he said quickly. “I’m glad you’re here.” And that was true. Helping her gave him something to do beyond stewing in his own sorrow and guilt.
“Was he a close friend?”
“Used to be. We were all close, six of us, back in the day. Called ourselves The Crew.” The memory of those days brought a sharp twist of pleasure and pain.
Eager to change the topic, he said “It’s late. Why don’t you get some sleep?”
“I’d like a bath first. Is that okay?”
“Sure. Help yourself.”
She rose and headed for the hallway. “Thanks.”
“Welcome.” He picked up his drink and took a swallow, welcoming the whiskey’s burn down his throat. With any luck it would put him to sleep. That was exactly what he needed. The forgetfulness of sleep.
Chapter 2
Claudia Nichols Sinclair sat in the back seat while her driver smoothly glided the sedan through the city streets. Her heart nearly stopped when her phone tweedled. A call from Marcus. Her hands trembled so she almost dropped the phone. “Son? What’s wrong? Is Andy—”
“His condition’s the same, Mom. I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry. I just wondered if you’d told Dad yet.”
“No. I’m not even at the condo yet. There’s some kind of traffic snarl holding things up.” She glanced out the window, wishing she could teleport herself to her ex-husband’s place. But then, who knew what she might be interrupting? Some wild party maybe, or a more intimate one-on-one with a twenty-two-year-old named Brandi or Candi or—
No, that wasn’t fair. She and Aaron were long since divorced. He was a free agent, entitled to spend his time however and with whomever he wished. It was none of her business. And no longer her worry, thank goodness.
It didn’t matter, anyway. Nothing mattered beyond the fact that their son lay in a coma, hovering between this world and the next.
“I don’t know why you can’t just call or text him,” Marcus went on. “Tell him to get his butt over here to the hospital.”
As much as she hated leaving Andy’s side, he was in the doctors’ hands now—and in God’s. “I can’t do that, Marcus. I can’t let him find out about Andy through a text message. That’s too cruel. I have to tell him face to face.” In spite of the circumstances leading to their divorce, Aaron had always tried to be a good father. He loved his boys.
She heard her older son’s loud exhale. “Yeah, you’re right. Guess I’m just p.o.’ed. I don’t know who I’m mad at though.” He gave a short bitter laugh. “I’d say Andy, if the knucklehead wasn’t lying in a hospital bed right now.” There was a short pause. “This whole situation stinks.”
“Agreed. And you’ve been a rock, son. Trent, too.” Marcus’ boyfriend. “Give him my love, by the way. Have you had anything to eat? You’ve got to take care of yourself, you know. I don’t want to have to worry about both my boys.”
“It’s all good, Mom. Trent’s gone down to the cafeteria to get us something. Oh, here he is now. I’m gonna let you go.”
“I’ll see you soon.” She ended the call and sat stiffly in the leather seat, her nerves jangling. A moment later she leaned forward to speak to her driver. “How much longer, do you think, Paul?”
“I’m sorry about the delay, Ms. Sinclair. Because of that accident a few blocks back, I had to take an alternate route. We should arrive shortly.”
“All right. Thank you.”
Paul cleared his throat. “Uh, Ms. Sinclair? I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am…about your son.”
Claudia’s chest tightened painfully. It took her a moment to answer. “Thank you, Paul.”
She leaned back again. At times she felt embarrassed about having a private driver. She certainly hadn’t grown up with it. She, like most of the city’s denizens, had been used to hoofing it in between using public transportation and hailing the occasional taxi.
But at this moment she was grateful to have the privilege of what ordinarily seemed such a frivolous luxury. She couldn’t imagine having to brave the subway or a crowded city bus to deliver such frightening news to the father of her children.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed the car to move faster. Hold it together, Claudia. Stay strong for Andy. You can fall apart when all this is over.
A few minutes later, they were at Aaron’s Park Avenue residence. Paul had barely pulled into the private entrance before Claudia stepped out of the car. She had no time to worry about the niceties of waiting for the attendant to open her door. When she identified herself, the doorman ushered her inside the vast lobby. At the concierges’ desk she asked them to contact her former husband. Moments later, she was in a private elevator heading to the twenty-first floor.
Her heart thumped and her palms grew damp as she wondered how to break the news. The elevator slowed, then stopped, and the doors slid open. Aaron was right there, confusion and concern in his face. She’d never been to his home before, and rarely contacted him unless it had to do with their sons, so he had to know something was wrong.
The moment she saw him, she wanted to fall into his arms and feel them close around her. Wanted him to hold her the way he so often had when they were married, and still in love. His embrace always anchored her and made her feel stronger, as though he were lending her his own strength.
Thank goodness she resisted the urge to fling herself against him. Before he could say anything, words tumbled out of her mouth.
“Andy’s in the hospital. He had an accident, a bad one, and they’ve put him in a medically induced coma while they treat him. You have to come with me. Right now.”
“Andy?” he asked, his face pale, his expression blank with shock.
“Yes. Please, Aaron. Hurry.”
“Yes. Hold on.” He fumbled in his pockets, then turned and glanced around. She followed as he headed into the living room and grabbed his phone from the coffee table. She vaguely took in her surroundings. They were impressive, but of course they would be. Aaron never settled for less than the best.
“Let’s go,” he said, jamming his phone into his pocket and taking her hand. It felt like coming home. She didn’t try to fight the impulse to curl her fingers around his palm.
They were back in the hall when someone called “Wow. That tub of yours. It’s amazing…”
Claudia froze, then turned to see a young woman standing in the bathroom doorway, wrapped in a plush terry-cloth robe much too big for her.
The girl blinked. “Oh. Hey. Uh…” she gestured to herself. “I, uh, found this hanging on a hook so I borrowed it.”
“That’s fine, Summer,” Aaron answered tightly as Claudia pulled her hand from his grasp. “I have to go now. I don’t know when I’ll be back. You can stay here as long as you need.”
“Okay. Um, is anything wrong?”
Claudia clenched her teeth as humiliation flooded her. She didn’t want to be here while her ex chatted with one of his little girlfriends. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” she muttered, turning away.
“Claudia, I’m coming. Summer, if you need anything, just call me. All right? I have to go.”
They descended silently to the main floor while Claudia kicked herself all the way down. She’d almost fallen into the same old trap. She’d let memories of the love they once shared color her view of him. But they’d divorced for reasons.
He’s not yours, Claudia. He never was. You tried to hold him, but he can’t be held. It’s not his nature.
It didn’t matter, she reminded herself. Only Andy mattered now. His life was more important than her silly embarrassment, or the sting of knowing Aaron’s little friend was young enough to be her daughter. It’s not my business.
The moment of connection they’d shared, when he’d taken her hand, might never have happened. The warmth she’d felt so briefly became a chill. A chill which turned her voice frosty when they reached the lobby. “Paul’s waiting for us.”
“Fine.” Aaron’s tone was just as cold as they walked side by side, not touching, not even looking at each other.
She hasn’t changed at all, Aaron thought as he sat beside her in the back seat of the sedan. True, she’d aged, but the years had made her even lovelier and given her a mature beauty that youth couldn’t compete with. As he gazed at her now, his heart still gave that foolish bump he’d felt all those years ago when he first laid eyes on her.
It was that tight-lipped judgmental frown of hers that hadn’t changed. The narrow-eyed suspicion in her gaze, reminding him of all the times she’d played
judge and jury, convicting him of crimes of which he’d never been accused. The crimes of being thoughtless, careless and immature. Of selfishly putting his own needs before those of his family. And it never mattered how he defended himself, how he pled his case. Claudia always found him guilty. And she was a hanging judge. When she’d decided their marriage was over, it was over. Case closed.
And yeah, that still burned. Not that he was perfect. He never claimed to be. But she never gave him a chance to try and do better.
Aaron knew she was judging him now, because of Summer. Instead of asking who the girl was, Claudia had already made up her mind that he was hooking up with someone no older than his own sons. She really thought that poorly of him.
Well, let her. He could try explaining that his relationship with Summer was completely innocent, but why bother? Claudia wouldn’t believe him anyway. She was too invested in seeing him in the worst possible light. He wouldn’t grovel to defend himself.
Instead he’d focus on who was really important. Andy. “Tell me what happened. You said an accident?”
She nodded shortly. “Yes. He was on his motorcycle. How I hate that thing. He was going one way and an SUV going the other direction made a left-hand turn in front of him. They didn’t see him. Something about the glare.” She barely choked out the next words as her eyes flooded with tears. “He ended up underneath it.”
“Oh no.” Without thinking, he again took her hand. It lay limply in his. She sagged back in the seat as though she had no strength left. Nothing to keep her upright.
He squeezed her hand tighter, his resentment forgotten. Past hurts weren’t important. Now he and Claudia were simply two people bonded by love for their child. “Was alcohol involved?”
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