The Billionaire's Revenge: Billionaire Brothers Billionaire Bachelors (Tycoon Billionaires Book 3)

by Farrell, Julie

  He felt wide and open this morning. As if he’d reconnected with a part of him that had been smothered for so long. He inhaled her sweet jasmine scent, then opened his eyes and glanced down to see her snuggled up in his arms. She’d ignited something awesome in him, and now he refused to let her go. He opened his mouth to say good morning, but then he realised there was someone banging on his front door.

  “Ohhh, fuck off…”

  Eleanor chuckled snoozily. “I hope you don’t mean me.”

  He laughed. “No, definitely not.”

  The bang on the door came again, harder this time. Joseph’s muscles tensed with anticipation. This could be Matthew…

  Eleanor stretched and sat up. She looked even more beautiful than ever this morning. He guessed it was because his own perception of her was changing; improving even more. He reached up and caressed her cheek as they gazed into each other’s eyes, then he guided her face towards his and they kissed. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

  “I was thinking we could pick up where we left off last night,” he said. “My morning glory desperately wants to thrust itself into your tight wet pussy until you come harder and harder… Crying out for more. Better than ever.”

  She smiled coyly and opened her mouth to reply. But whoever was out there banging really wanted his attention. He rubbed his eyes, sighed, and clambered out of bed to pull on his jeans.

  “I’ll get rid of them then come back and make love to you. Stay hot, okay.”

  She smiled sadly. “Joseph, I have to go… we can’t do this.”

  His heart squeezed with disappointment, but he pushed it away. They had agreed one night only, but he wasn’t giving up. Last night had been something else – he’d never experienced such an intense connection with another human being as he had with Ellie. She was his now – and he refused to let her walk out.

  “We’ll discuss this in a minute,” he said. “I can be very persuasive when I want something badly. And I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want you.”

  She started to argue, but the bang on the door interrupted.

  “Excuse me, Ellie,” he said, turning towards the bedroom door. “Whoever that is pummelling their fist on my door is about to experience my fist pummelling their face.”

  He made his way across the gleaming apartment and halted, then he peered through the spyhole. Hmm… it was a journalist from the other top tabloid in town. Technically he was Eleanor’s competition. Joseph had spent many an evening telling him to fuck off. What was his name again?

  He pulled open the door a sliver. “Dennis, isn’t it?”

  “Joseph, can I –”

  “I assume you’ve brought me some coffee and breakfast. Otherwise, what the hell are you doing waking me up at this time?”

  Dennis chomped on the Danish pastry in his hand, spilling crumbs over the pristine hallway. He was overweight with long scruffy hair, and he wore thick glasses over an expression of permanent surprise. “I heard you came back with a young lady last night. I wondered who she was.”

  Joseph sighed. Great – the guard on the desk had obviously betrayed him. But as long as no one had taken a photo of Ellie, they should be safe. Joseph would definitely be having a word with the building manager again.

  “So if you could just let me know her name,” the journalist said. “Then I won’t need to do any digging around.”

  “There’s no one here but me,” Joseph said. “I don’t know who gave you this tip-off – or who let you up here – but if you don’t get out right now, I’ll call the cops. Goodbye.”

  Joseph slammed the door in his face.

  Dennis started to plead from outside, which would usually infuriate Joseph, but the sight of Ellie standing there dressed in nothing but his shirt made him grin. His cock firmed.

  “You’re fucking beautiful,” he said.

  “Are you talking to me, Joseph?” the journalist called out.

  Joseph ignored him and strode over to wrap Eleanor up in his arms. He kissed her hard.

  She pulled away and gestured towards the front door. “Does that happen a lot?”

  “Couple of times a month. Sometimes they send women up to try to get a ‘kiss-and-tell’. It’s a bit sad really. Anyway, who cares? Let’s go back to bed and figure out how to break the news to Matthew that you’re my girl now.”

  She stepped away. “Joseph, I’m so sorry – I can’t.”

  He caressed her shoulder. “It’s not too late for you to get out of that relationship while you can. And out of the grips of News Scape too.”

  She pulled the shirt around herself and shook her head. “No, Joseph. This is my dream – being a journalist. I can’t risk getting mixed up with you. Last night was amazing – you’re amazing. And if things were different… in another lifetime… but they’re not. It was a mistake. I can’t see you again. I’m sorry.”

  The journalist banged on the door loudly. “Joseph, I can hear you talking to someone in there.”

  Joseph suppressed the urge to punch his lights out. “Ellie, I’m not asking you to elope with me. But come on, we should date – get to know each other. You need to leave Matthew and Blair Robertson.” He smirked and put on a Darth Vader voice. “Come over to the dark side.” He put out his hand, still grinning. “You know you want to.”

  She bit her lip. “Oh god, it’s hard to resist you…”

  He stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms – while she kept hers firmly folded across her chest. “You don’t need to resist me. I want you; you want me. What’s the problem, babe?”

  She eased herself away again. “Please, Joseph. I’ve got to go. I’m engaged. I’ve just started a new job. You’re a rock-god! It’ll never work. Help me get out of here without being seen. If you care about me at all, then help me. Please.”

  He linked his fingers through hers and gazed deeply into those gorgeous blue eyes. There was no way he was letting her walk out on him permanently – not without experiencing that perfect body again – but he could see she was upset. The constant banging on the door was stressing her out. And it was pissing him off too.

  “Alright, I’ll get you safely out of here. But this isn’t over, Ellie, I’m telling you now. I know you want me… Just wait here a minute.”

  Joseph strode over to the front door and ripped it open. He stepped out into the hallway, forcing the journalist to stagger backwards before he could look inside and see Eleanor.

  “You want a story?” Joseph growled. “You want something for your stupid newspaper?”

  Dennis spluttered out a shocked reply. Celebrities didn’t usually behave like this – sticking up for themselves and getting mad; they usually cowered and begged for mercy.

  “Here’s a fucking story for you,” Joseph said.

  Dennis frowned and started to speak, but Joseph planted his bare feet on the thick carpet and punched the journalist hard, throwing him backwards across the corridor so he hit his head on the opposite wall. His concussed body slid down the expensive wallpaper like a blob of porridge, and he landed in a crumpled heap on the floor.

  Joseph rubbed his knuckles and turned back to the door. To his delight, Eleanor was standing there, still dressed in his shirt and looking utterly radiant.

  She gazed at the unconscious reporter. “I know him. He works for USA Chat.”

  Joseph drew her into his arms and kissed her hard. “I know, sweetheart. I was just helping you knock out the competition.”

  She laughed cynically. “Thanks. Well, I’d better get dressed before he comes round. And you’d better get ready to explain to Matthew why the front page of tomorrow’s USA Chat will be reporting charges of assault against you. Again.”

  Chapter Nine

  Joseph felt supercool, sitting in the plush swivel chair with his headphones a-slant over one ear – listening to the playback of what he’d just recorded. This eight-foot long mixing desk was the biggest he’d ever seen – and it had far more knobs, buttons, and channels than
any engineer could ever use. It was the absolute top of the range in audio equipment, and it was luxury compared to the portable desk he’d produced the band’s demo on last year in his college dorm room.

  The control room at the recording studio was bright and airy, with wooden panelling and laminate flooring throughout. And there was – of course – the huge soundproof window separating it from the ‘live’ room – where his two bandmates were rehearsing the next track to be laid down.

  He smiled contentedly. Despite the intrusions into his personal life, Joseph loved making music for a living. He was a bit of a geek when it came to the production side of things – he wasn’t satisfied with just writing songs and performing; he craved input into the whole experience. He’d enjoyed producing the band’s first album last year, which they’d used to gain popularity online, before selling-out and signing to the record company. But unfortunately, the record company wasn’t keen for Joseph to get his hands dirty. And they certainly didn’t like him to express an opinion. But he was going to anyway.

  “You’ve added far too much reverb on my vocals there,” he said, swivelling to face the producer. “It sounds like I’m singing in the shower.”

  “It’s what sells right now,” the producer grumbled. He was a sixty-year-old, plump man who’d worked with hundreds of musicians and managed to propel most of them straight to the top of the hit parade. His commercial values didn’t exactly gel with Joseph’s artistic vision.

  “It might be what sells now,” Joseph said. “But what about making music that stands the test of time? What about passion?”

  The producer gave a patronising chuckle. “You really are clueless, huh?”

  Joseph fixed him with a glare. He opened his mouth to argue, but Matthew – who was sitting quietly down the other end, typing on his laptop – intervened. “Joseph, this man knows what he’s talking about. How many number-one records have you produced, Terry?”

  Terry shrugged. “Seventeen.”

  Matthew pointed his finger at Joseph. “So you just stick to gyrating your hips and keep your mouth shut. Right?”

  Anger burst heavily into Joseph’s chest, overwhelming him with pure animal aggression. He stared at Matthew with furious eyes – desperate to go over and pound his stupid smug face into the ground. He inhaled and forced himself to get a grip. He was better than that – punching Matthew wouldn’t prove or solve anything. Joseph knew he was a good producer, and he hated what these people were doing to his music. He’d signed a three-album deal, so all he needed to do was go along with it, make as much money as possible, retire young, buy an island for himself and Ellie, and spend the rest of their days making beautiful music.

  He unpinned Matthew from his glare, pushed back his chair, and strode out to the corridor by the stairs to calm down – lest he start throwing expensive equipment around and getting sued.

  He leaned against the granite wall where Ellie would usually greet him each morning and spotted a copy of today’s New York Spin on the floor, which made him think of her even more. In truth, everything made him think of her. He grinned. Last night had been perfect and he couldn’t wait to entice her into his bed again soon. He wasn’t taking no for an answer – he would convince her to be his for more than one night. Luckily, after he’d smuggled her out earlier, he’d persuaded the journalist not to press charges of assault. Joseph had promised him some exclusives, which was a cheap shot – as well as a lie – but it was a good way to get him off his back.

  So hopefully he’d get some peace and quiet when he woke up tomorrow with Ellie in his arms – after spending the night thrusting his cock in that tight little body again. Joseph glanced back into the control room and saw that Matthew had resumed typing on his laptop. His anger dissipated as he reminded himself that he’d been fucking Matthew’s beautiful fiancée all night long. Even if Joseph hadn’t been falling for Eleanor over the last few months, it would’ve been worth fucking her, just to know he’d regained some power over that asshole. And he’d helped Ellie get revenge for those times Matthew had cheated on her. He looked away from Matthew and bent to pick up The New York Spin, then he absent-mindedly flicked through to see if he was in there today. He wasn’t on the front page, which was a great start. He scanned over Gerald Stinger’s gossip column and noticed his name there, three paragraphs down. He chuckled – was he losing his popularity already?

  He skim-read the segment with low expectations.

  ‘Don’t poke-her, Joseph! What are the odds that Joseph Quinlan loves to gamble! A source reveals that he regularly enjoys poker with his wealthy business-minded brothers – and one of them’s a cheater! But the real ace-up-his-sleeve is Joseph’s confession of love for an unnamed young lady. Has he cashed in his chips for her? Don’t bluff us with your poker face, Joseph – reveal your hand! Watch this space to see if he sticks or plays!’

  Joseph finished reading and looked up, stunned. Apart from the fact that it was the worst piece of hack-writing he’d ever read, it was also somehow familiar… He’d said something to someone about poker yesterday, but who? A memory surfaced of him driving in the rain… The voicemail to Adam. But surely…? Adam? He wouldn’t sell his little brother to the newspapers, would he? No, of course he wouldn’t. The man was a self-made billionaire – he didn’t need to betray his own family for cash. And he wouldn’t anyway – the brothers were all loyal. So what was going on? There was no way anyone could’ve overheard his voicemail message, because he’d been in the car, so that could only mean…

  He picked up his phone and called his brother. Adam answered with a cool, “Hey Joe, what’s up?”

  Joseph kept his voice down, just in case anyone was listening right now. “Adam, hi… did you get my voicemail last night?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t call back because you said you were tired. How you feeling now? Any news on the romance fr–”

  “Shh! Adam, don’t finish that sentence!”

  Adam chuckled. “What the hell is wrong with you, Joseph?”

  Joseph glanced around, suddenly feeling paranoid. “I think my phone’s been tapped. What I said to you last night – it’s in today’s paper.”

  Adam went silent for a moment. “Someone’s listening right now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, if they are they’d better take this down... You print anymore bullshit about my little brother and I’ll rip your fucking nuts off!”

  Chapter Ten

  Eleanor’s heart twisted like a meat-grinder, as she smiled nervously at the receptionist in the small foyer of the recording studio.

  “Good evening, Marilyn,” she said. “Er… how are you?”

  “Alright, Ellie. Didn’t see you here this morning – you got that job you wanted?”

  “Yep. Yes, I did.”

  “How’s it going?”

  She winced. “Well, I spent my day working on a hot new story, which I then deleted after a crisis of conscience, and now I’m clueless about where I’m going or what I want to do with my life.”

  Marilyn gazed at her with kind eyes. “These are the days when I’m glad to be sitting here on reception, making small talk with rockstars.”

  Eleanor chuckled. “Yeah, the simpler life sounds appealing to me right now, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out.” She gestured to the stairs. “Is it okay to go up?”

  “Sure. But everyone’s gone home for the day. Well, other than Joseph...” Marilyn winked at her. “He’s up there all alone.”

  “Oh… oh good. Well, I’ve come to interview him actually, so that’s good.”

  Eleanor rushed up the stairs, willing her trembling knees not to give way. She knew she shouldn’t be here, but technically Matthew had told her to interview the band, so she was just doing what he’d asked.

  She halted at the top of the stairs and gazed through the soundproof glass into the control room. Joseph was in there all alone, just as the receptionist had said. He was working late, sitting in front of the mixing desk with his headpho
nes on – looking very pro. Eleanor knew he’d currently be going back over what the sound engineer had done today and removing the bits he didn’t like. Matthew would find out tomorrow and he’d be furious. It was a game the two of them played daily. The trouble was, Joseph seemed to enjoy it much more than Matthew.

  She stood outside glass door and watched, not wanting to disturb him. He was so handsome. She totally understood why all those young women loved him so much. But for some reason he’d decided that he liked her. She knew it wasn’t going anywhere beyond sex – he was a rock-god, for goodness sake. And she was engaged. It could never develop into a relationship. Matthew was an asshole, and Eleanor knew she needed to break up with him. But that didn’t mean she should get involved with Joseph. That delightful young man who was sitting there so studiously right now was one massive potential heartache. And she couldn’t stand the thought of the inevitable agony.

  So she needed to be strong and tell him that their relationship from now on would be purely professional.

  She crept inside the glass door and loitered, as he remained engrossed in the music. She cleared her throat. His body tensed, ready to fight this late-night intruder. He turned slowly in the leather swivel chair, with his handsome face set to an expression of tough resilience. Then, as his gaze fell on her, his demeanour softened with affectionate surprise.

  He grinned, remaining ever supercool. “Good evening, Ellie.”

  “Hi. Working late?”

  “Yeah… I never seem to stop.”

  “Especially when you’re changing things you’re not supposed to be?”

  He chuckled, making his face light up. “Busted… Did you have a nice day? It started well, right? Waking up in each other’s arms like that.”

  “Yeah... But, Joseph, last night was a mistake.”

  He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh really? You came all the way here to tell me that?”

  “Would you prefer it if I’d called?”

  His expression fell serious. “No, definitely not… don’t leave any messages on my phone okay?”