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

Page 18

by Farrell, Julie


  Joseph gazed out into the crowd. “Eleanor, sweetheart, would you come up please? They’re all dying to meet you.”

  A surreal state gripped her and she glued her feet firmly to the floor, shaking her head. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be doing all the talking – he said he’d expose Robertson and talk about her article. She breathed. Okay, perhaps he just wanted her up there with him. She wouldn’t need to actually say anything to the thousands of people watching here and all over the internet and television… Shit!

  Okay, come on, one foot in front of the other; please legs remember how to work!

  With her heart threatening to burst out of her ribs, Eleanor dragged herself towards the front of the room. She halted at the bottom of the steps and gazed up at Joseph, who was waiting for her at the side of the stage. He offered her his hand, which she took with trembling fingers, then she climbed up the steps in her heels, onto the wooden boards.

  He wrapped her in his arms, and they kissed like teens at a prom. Everyone cheered.

  “You look beautiful,” he said away from the mic. “So stunning.”

  Her voice came out a nervous whisper. “Thanks. Would you like to tell me what the fuck is going on please?”

  “Did you get my message?” he asked.

  “Which message?”

  He gestured to his undone shirt. “The one on my chest.”

  She laughed. “I did. And yes, I’d love to.”

  “Yes!” He picked her up in his strong arms and twirled her around, making her giggle self-consciously.

  “Come on,” he said, placing her back down. “You’ve got a story to break to the world.”

  “No, Joe. You’re telling them. That’s what we decided.”

  He caressed her cheek. “It’s your story – you should get the glory. You’ll be fine. Come on.”

  He held her hand and led her over to the microphone, which suddenly seemed as if it might grow teeth and gobble her up whole. She stood a foot away from it, just in case. Then she reached up to remove her mask, so that she could look at everyone properly and concentrate on what she was doing. From up here, she saw that everyone else in the sprawling crowd was still masked.

  She pushed herself to speak to the sea of blank faces. “Er, thank you for asking me up here…”

  She muttered a few more incoherent words, not really knowing what to say. If only she’d prepared something – a proper speech. Her heart sank into her feet as she realised some people in the crowd were now turning to talk to each other, uninterested in what she wanted to tell them.

  Joseph appeared at her side. “You need to stand nearer the mic, babe. Here…”

  He dragged the mic stand closer to her, but that meant the microphone was suddenly too high. Joseph chuckled, then knelt to adjust the height of the stand. He glanced up at her from his knees and winked. She chuckled, allowing herself to relax slightly. He was always on his knees, wasn’t he?

  Joseph stood back, so Eleanor tried speaking again. She uttered a few more words, but she closed her mouth as an ear-splitting squeal of feedback caused everyone to put their fingers in their ears. A few people heckled, telling her to get off. But she refused to do that. This was her mission now – to tell the world about what had been happening. The feedback suddenly disappeared as the sound engineer adjusted the levels. She stood up tall, summoning up how she felt when she was in the throes of orgasm with Joseph… powerful and brave. Okay, here we go… She picked out Blair Robertson in the crowd and reminded herself of the importance of what she was doing here tonight. She stood tall and embodied the cocky spirit of Joseph Quinlan.

  “As a journalist, I believe in a free and fair press. However, by going undercover at News Scape this week, I’ve learnt that Blair Robertson wields so much power over his editors and reporters that they’ll do anything for a front page story. He treats them mean and keeps them keen. And they in turn treat the people who they interview mean.”

  She paused. Her knees surged with terror as she realised everyone was suddenly captivated – they were staring at her in shock; unable to believe what she was saying at the most powerful man in media’s own party.

  Come on, Ellie, just say what there is to say…

  “I’ve written an exclusive article in an independent newspaper called The Big Society covering my story. In the article, I expose how Blair Robertson and his organisation have broken all sorts of privacy laws. They’ve been hacking phones, paying off corrupt officials, and bribing the police.”

  “Rubbish!” someone shouted.

  She ignored the heckler. “Well, that’s not just lazy journalism; it’s unethical and it’s illegal. I’ve discovered that these despicable techniques are encouraged by News Scape – it’s deep and wide. It’s not just Bob Crowe – the rogue reporter some of you will have heard of. It’s company deep. It’s all of them. Gerald Stinger… all of them. Thanks to the birthday boy’s influence over this city – and country – the police have been forced to suppress these facts, but they can’t ignore them any longer.” Eleanor inhaled deeply into her lungs, forcing herself to go for the final push. But the microphone suddenly cut out.

  She glanced into the crowd and saw that Robertson was glaring at her furiously. He must’ve sent someone around to cut the power. She looked behind for Joseph and saw that he was now standing between her and a couple of burly-looking guys in suits – Robertson’s hired help who’d obviously come to put a stop to this.

  “Carry on, Ellie!” Joseph shouted, blocking their way. “Use your voice – shout as loudly as you can!”

  Eleanor turned back to the crowd. She realised they were now totally engrossed by this massive revelation. She inhaled deeply and shouted as loudly as she could. “It is said that we get the leaders we deserve, but I believe that’s incorrect. We can create the society we want to be a part of, and that starts with me, you, and everyone who’s part of this society. I hope justice will be done, but obviously Blair Robertson will do everything he can to wriggle out of this. The police are here now to take him and Stinger in for questioning, so we’ll just have to see how it unfolds. But there will always be bastards like him trying to throw their weight around. All we can do is work together to create a media that we’re proud of. I hope you’ll all join me in boycotting Robertson’s immoral media outlets, and together we can unite!”

  Eleanor gazed out at the blank faces and refused to allow their stunned silence to intimidate her. She knew they were all in shock. Without waiting for Robertson’s reaction, she turned and strode off the stage and into the wings, with Joseph following – leaving the heavies behind. Any minute now Dylan’s cop friend would arrest Robertson and Stinger… then the fun would really begin.

  She had no idea where she was going, but she found herself in a little chamber full of stage props. She halted and turned to face Joseph, who threw his arms around her, hugging her tight.

  “Way to go, Ellie! You totally nailed it – I’m so proud of you.”

  Eleanor gazed into his eyes and smirked. “I was under the impression you would be the one making that little speech, buster.”

  “I know, but I wanted you to get the chance to shine – I knew you’d do it perfectly. And you did.”

  She kissed him. “I love you.”

  “I love you too. So much. And you were right you know – one person can make a difference.”

  “Told you,” she said, hugging him. “But we mustn’t forget all those people who helped us to achieve our goal, right?”

  “Right.”

  They gazed silently into each other’s eyes and Eleanor realised she could hear shouting and muttering from the crowd now.

  “Sounds like the police have arrived,” Eleanor said.

  “Shall we go watch?” Joseph asked. “We don’t wanna miss this.”

  Eleanor laughed and nodded. They held hands as they made their way out to the foyer, squeezing past television and newspaper reporters, who’d sprung into action. And there they w
ere: Robertson and Stinger in handcuffs, being led away by cops like common criminals.

  Eleanor smiled politely at a journalist who stuck a mic in her face.

  “Eleanor, what do you hope will happen to Robertson and News Scape now?”

  “No comment,” she said. “Let’s just wait and see.”

  The editor of The New York Times appeared at her side. He was a hero of hers, and she resisted dropping to her knees and worshipping him.

  “Eleanor, what you said up there was astounding – you’re one brave girl. Here’s my card. Call me tomorrow, right?”

  She grinned. “I sure will!”

  Joseph drifted over to where the cops were trying to lead Stinger and Robertson through the throng of reporters, photographers, and TV-camera operators. Eleanor followed and they halted next to Robertson, who was fuming with his hands behind his back in cuffs.

  “Sorry to ruin your birthday, Blair,” Joseph said. “I do hope my royalties will find their way to my bank account soon.”

  Blair glowered. “My lawyer will get me out of this before the morning. I’ll deny everything. There’s no proof I knew about any of this.”

  Eleanor scoffed. “Well if you – the owner of one of the largest news corporations in the world – didn’t know what was going on, I’d say that proves gross incompetence right there. I’m sure your shareholders would be very interested to hear about the mismanagement and ignorance in your organisation. Don’t you think?”

  He bored a hole in her face with his glare. “They have nothing on me.”

  “Not yet,” Eleanor said.

  “I might be a bastard,” Blair said. “But I’m not stupid. I’ll come out of this with my hands clean.”

  “By placing all the blame on Stinger, I suppose?” Eleanor asked.

  But Blair wasn’t listening. He was staring threateningly at Joseph. “There’s still the matter of your brother Ivan, isn’t there?”

  “Ah, so you know all about that then?” Joseph said. “And what of him?”

  He shrugged. “Well, I have a front page to fill tomorrow and my chief editor has just been arrested. Obviously I won’t be reporting that. It would be a pity if your brother’s secrets all came out by accident. We do have a duty to report the news, you know.”

  “Are you blackmailing me?” Joseph asked.

  “Retract your accusation. Say it was bullshit. And I’ll protect your brother. Do we have a deal?”

  A huge grin spread over Joseph’s handsome face. He lowered his voice. “Actually, Blair, one of your private investigators told us all about your illegal immigrant parents. So I suggest you keep your information about my family to yourself, and I’ll do the same for yours. Do we have a deal?”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Joseph straightened his tie and shook hands with the realtor. “Well, thanks for letting us have a look around.”

  “No problem, Mr Quinlan. I’ll leave you and your brothers to explore. I’ll be back in an hour. I apologise again for the double-booking.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  The realtor left and Joseph grinned at Adam and Dylan. He felt as professional as them in his suit today. His royalties had come through yesterday and he was keen to buy this old office building on the outskirts of the city as soon as possible – where he planned to run his own record company and music academy. The building was on two levels – up here were the offices, and downstairs was a dance studio, which Joseph planned to turn into a recording studio. The laminate flooring gave it a modern feel, and the magnolia walls could be covered in photos of bands and cover-art from albums. It was in disrepair up here at the moment – the old carpet would need to be ripped out, and the old desks would be replaced with new furniture. But after that he planned to hire some top music tutors to teach aspiring talent, and set up funding for students who struggled to pay the fees.

  “This place should be perfect,” he said. “Just needs a lick of paint. And some refurbishment.”

  “You gonna take it, then?” Dylan asked.

  “I want Ellie to see it first.”

  “Speaking of Ellie,” Adam said. “I heard all charges have been dropped against Blair Robertson. I guess it was inevitable.”

  Dylan shrugged. “Yeah, but at least the cops are finally doing a thorough investigation of News Scape. A proper one this time.”

  “And corrupt journalists are being arrested on a daily basis,” Joseph said, feeling as if he’d won the gold medal in the game of life. “It’s far from over for Robertson. Ellie’s running late because she’s interviewing a guy who’s saying Robertson’s been suppressing negative stories about his advertisers for years. It’s all very well him throwing his staff to the lions, but he’ll get found out for all the shit he’s done eventually. Hopefully sooner rather than later.”

  Adam opened his mouth to reply, but all three men were distracted by the gorgeous blonde who breezed in and halted at the dilapidated reception desk like a sunbeam on a cloudless day. She oozed confidence, dressed in her two-piece pinstripe suit and heels. Her hair was scraped back into a bun and she seemed to radiate from within – knowing she was great at what she did, and confident that what she did was in line with her values.

  “I’m looking for Quinlan Records,” she said coolly. “I was told I might find a good story here.”

  Joseph smirked and shook his head. “The press just seem to follow me everywhere, don’t they?”

  “At least she’s from a decent paper,” Dylan said with a smirk. “The New York Times, no less.”

  Joseph gazed lovingly at his sexy fiancée. She smirked into his eyes and strutted over to join them. She halted beside Joseph and kissed him on the cheek. Then she inspected his brothers. “Hello, Dylan and Adam.”

  Joseph was impressed by how much power she commanded. Somehow the sentence ‘hello, Adam and Dylan’ had translated in mid-air into ‘you two can get lost now I’m here’. And the most amazing thing was, they seemed to be succumbing.

  Adam glanced at Dylan. “We’d better get back to work.”

  “Sure,” Dylan said. “Don’t forget we’re picking up Ivan from the airport later.”

  “How could I forget?” Joseph said. “I can’t wait for him to meet Ellie.”

  Joseph watched his brothers leave, then he wrapped Eleanor in arms. “What do you think?”

  She grinned. “Not bad – very kissable lips and a near-perfect body.”

  He laughed. “But will it work?”

  “Yes – if you keep bestowing all this attention on me.”

  He tickled her. “Ellie! I mean this place. Do you think it’ll work?”

  “I do, Joe. I think it’s perfect.”

  “Good.” He kissed her tenderly. “Hey, you got today’s paper?”

  She held it out. “Yep, I was just reading an article about how the public has turned against The New York Spin. Sales are down and advertisers are dropping off one by one. Gerald Stinger’s looking at seven years behind bars. Interesting outcome, huh?”

  “You read that in the newspaper?”

  “I sure did.”

  “And you believed it?”

  She shrugged. “Well, I wrote it.”

  “Well, then it’s bound to be true. I trust Eleanor Davison more than anyone else on this planet.”

  She smiled proudly. “Lucky me. Perhaps I can get an exclusive?”

  “You already got that.” He grinned and delved his hand into his pocket. “Oh, there’s something I’ve been meaning to give you.”

  “What?”

  He pulled out his hand to reveal an engagement ring. He’d taken the time to have it crafted especially for her, exactly to her taste, with beautiful blue sapphires and sparkling diamonds, set on a gold band.

  Eleanor gasped. “Oh, Joe, it’s perfect!”

  He gently took a-hold of her left hand and positioned the ring at the top of her finger. “Now you’re mine forever – it’s official.”

  He slid the ring over her finger – somehow even
managing to make this romantic gesture erotic. They kissed tenderly. Love and lust mingled in Eleanor’s chest and she suddenly needed to fuck him.

  “I’d love to get an up close and personal with you,” she whispered. “My journalist instincts are telling me to lay bare the real Joseph Quinlan.”

  He grinned, taking a few steps back until he banged into the desk behind him, which he perched his ass on. “Come and get it.”

  She strutted towards him in her heels, feeling sexy and in control, then she stepped between his thighs and they kissed wildly. As she undid his tie and loosened his collar, he reached his hand around and fondled her ass, enjoying a grope of her toned buttocks. With his other hand, he unbuttoned her shirt and pulled up her bra, then he leaned forward and swirled his tongue around one of her nipples, causing electric lust to surge through her body, turning her on so much that she ground her hips at nothing.

  “What time’s the realtor coming back?” she asked, breathing heavily.

  He pulled up her skirt, revealing the lacy elastic tops of her ‘hold-up’ stockings. “An hour… plenty of time.”

  He rubbed his fingertip over the silky gusset of her panties, causing a dollop of desire to make her groan. She kissed him harder, forcing him backwards as she reached out to undo his shirt frantically – suddenly desperate to fondle those sculpted pecs. He lay down on the desk, pulling her with him by the wrists, so she climbed on and lay on top of him, kissing him hungrily, writhing her bare breasts against his sculpted chest.

  “I’ve been fantasising about you all morning,” he said. “About licking your gorgeous tits.”

  “Oh yeah?” She knelt up and slowly removed her shirt and bra, teasing him like a stripper and enjoying watching his face light up as he inspected her naked upper-half.

  Eleanor sat back on her heels and fondled her breasts as if she was in the shower, relishing the captivated look on his face. She dropped her head back, and thrust out her chest, emphasising her curvy body, listening to him breathing hard his approval. She raised her head and saw he was lying there looking dangerous, like an untamed animal – so sexy with his shirt falling off and his trousers unzipped.

 

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