Torn_An Alpha Billionaire Romance

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by Tristan Vaughan




  Table of Contents

  Torn

  Copyright

  Book Description

  First Time Reader?

  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

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue - Cara

  Epilogue - Caden

  More from Authors

  About The Authors

  Torn

  An Alpha Billionaire Romance

  By

  Ellie Danes & Tristan Vaughan

  www.EllieDanes.com

  www.AuthorTristanVaughan.com

  Copyright

  First Edition, March 2018

  Copyright © 2018 by Ellie Danes, Tristan Vaughan

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and situations are the product of the author's imagination.

  All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.

  License

  This book is available exclusively on Amazon.com. If you found this book for free or from a site other than an Amazon.com country specific website it means the author was not compensated for this book and you have likely obtained this book through an unapproved distribution channel.

  Get each of Ellie’s newly released books

  for just 99 cents by clicking here

  Table of Contents

  Torn

  Copyright

  Book Description

  First Time Reader?

  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

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue - Cara

  Epilogue - Caden

  More from Authors

  About The Authors

  Book Description

  Men seem to fall at my feet.

  The problem is, it’s always the wrong ones. Liars, cheaters, arrogant a$$es.

  They always seem to find me.

  So it should be no surprise that when I drive two hours away from home to escape my cheating ex, two more men fall at my feet.

  But this time it’s different.

  They’re different. He’s different. I’m different.

  I know better, or at least I should.

  It was going to be a weekend to forget.

  Instead it turned into a weekend to remember. Forever.

  Now the men in my life are fighting over me, and I’m torn.

  Who will I choose?

  The ex love of my life that has promised me the world,

  or the gorgeous billionaire that can give it to me?

  First Time Reader?

  Is this the first book by Ellie Danes or Tristan Vaughan you’ve read?

  Grab another book for free right here

  Chapter 1

  Cara

  The trees were a blur as I drove down the highway. Luckily, traffic hadn’t gathered to the fervor I knew it would become on a Friday heading toward the coast. With the windows down, breeze blowing my hair around my face, and my playlist blaring on the radio, my thoughts were everywhere.

  What had I done wrong? How can someone that I’d been so happy with just leave without a trace?

  The last week had been one of the darkest I had experienced in my life.

  LJ.

  That was my affectionate nickname for him. It had sprung from the first date we had, when we talked about what he had originally set out to do in life: become a lawyer. Lawyer Joe, I had teased him, and when I finally committed to saving his name in my phone, that was what he was: LJ. Because it always popped up when he texted or called thereafter, that was all I ever called him. Even his friends and family began calling him LJ. Happily (for him), he never finished his law degree, realizing that the life he wanted to live was full of less formality. He had used what was left of his living expenses from student loans and taken over the convenience store that his friend’s family was selling to move west. He’d never looked back. Just like now. He had left me and sold the business, and had not looked back.

  A honk of the car beside me jolted me out of my thoughts and to the road, as I swerved back to my side of the dotted line. The sun coming in through my moon roof was becoming unbearably hot on my shoulder and face, but I needed the fresh air. A trip to the beach for the weekend was exactly what I needed. The warmth of the sun, the stickiness of the salt air would take away my feelings of emptiness. Maybe a jog along the beach one morning.

  I closed my windows and roof as I began to head into the tunnel. The Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel system was one of the world's largest, and was called one of the non-ancient “wonders of the world.” Although the bridges were long and beautiful surrounding the tunnel system, the tunnels themselves always made me feel claustrophobic. I had many times used my odometer to monitor the exact mileage of the part of the tunnel I had to go through so that I knew which way to swim if the tunnel were to suddenly crack and flood with water.

  In a sense, I was doing the same thing now with my emotions. Gauging if I should continue to swim backward and try to find LJ, or just move forward. Passing the halfway point, I audibly let out a sigh to myself. The decision was made for me. I was moving forward. The fish, Dory, from the movie Nemo, chanted her line in my head, to “just keep swimming.” Laughing out loud, I decided I was going crazy. I had fish talking in my head. Just great. Maybe that was why he left.

  Because I made a point of making sure people said my name correctly, “Car - a, as in the vehicle, not Care - a” and I loved to drive around in my Volkswagen Golf R, he had put me in his phone as “car.” Now more than ever, I felt like that: an object that he loved, but one day just set aside.

  The sign for Interstate 264 was finally in front of me. I was almost to the sand and warmth I desperately craved. I had booked a room at the Hilton, one of the newest and most expensive hotels on the beach. I may as well be comfortable while I was all alone. Never mind that now I was having to pay both his and my portion of our house payment. I’d bought the house for us in my name alone, as my credit was excellent and his was lower due to the debt he had taken on after purchasing the store. He was diligently working to pull it back up, and was never late giving me his portion of the payments, and he’d even paid all of the utilities for us.

  Now, what was I supposed to do with this house that was our dream? I was a certified personal trainer, and a group exercise instructor that had become a fitness center manager. Most of my work, luckily, was now done from home, constantly tweaking schedules, figuring out which classes were working and which ones needed to come off the schedule, looking for certification class
es to bring in that would help the current instructors, and, unlike the laidback college students who had worked for LJ, my days were headaches of dealing with “catty” instructors who thought they deserved more classes, or more money, or more recognition than the other instructors at the club.

  Pulling up to the Hilton’s valet circle, an old but familiar and sad song started on the radio. “At this moment” by Billy Vera and the Beaters. I put the car in park and sat there, tears starting to blur my vision. This moment. The song asked about sacrifices, and what I would give up if someone would stay. Damn it. Why was it that there was always a song to bring me back to the reason I was leaving? If only LJ had given me that moment. That goodbye. Instead, he became a ghost. It was almost worse than a death, in a way. Nothing happened, and I didn’t get to say goodbye. There had been no reason for his departure. Now I am left here, alone, to always wonder.

  LJ had simply taken what few belongings he had brought to our house, and packed them up in his car. His friend, Matt, had been in the car waiting. When I had pulled up in the driveway, and walked upstairs, he was packing his last bag of clothes. I was too in shock to demand an explanation. I’d crumpled to the ground and had simply asked if he was leaving me. His response had been, “For now.” No emotion, nothing of the sweet man I had known all this time. After he left, I finally let myself text him. No answer. Calling him had produced the same result. By the time I had gotten in my car to drive to the beach, I had probably racked up no fewer than forty unanswered phone calls, and 400 unanswered texts. I felt crazy. When I tried to ask his friend, Scott, he had told me coldly that it wasn't his place to talk about it. Scott was taking over the store for a while, and LJ had decided that our relationship wasn't what he had wanted it to be.

  The valet trying the door handle pulled me back to the present, and I opened the door to give him the key. Choking out that I did not have any bags with me, I walked inside to check in. The lady at the counter continued to dagger my heart, asking if I needed an extra key, and if she could have the bellboy take my baggage up for me. No to both. Instead of planning out the trip and packing accordingly, I had just started driving, stopping at Starbucks to make the reservation on my phone, and continued on. I had the clothes on my back, my car, my purse, my phone, and my credit card.

  After handing my credit card back to me with my room key, she added in a way too happy tone that there were a lot of sales in the clothing stores around the hotel.

  “Thank you,” was my only response.

  * * * * *

  “Room service,” a voice thundered, waking me from my sleep. I wondered how long they had been knocking. My clock said that it was close to nine a.m.—I’d collapsed on the bed fully clothed as soon as I’d checked in. I guessed that not getting sleep for a week in the bed that LJ and I had slept in together had taken its toll on me. I jumped out of bed and opened the door.

  “Sorry, ma'am, I didn’t mean to knock so loud, but I did not know if you heard me the first couple of times,” the older man said, holding a vase of roses.

  “Oh, it’s okay. I had fallen asleep,” I mumbled, wondering why he had knocked in the first place, but praying that LJ had found me and sent roses as an indication of wanting to return.

  “I think these are for you, if you are Felicia Brunt,” he smiled broadly.

  “I am Cara Lauren, actually. I think you have the wrong room,” I replied, with my heart breaking in a million pieces all over again.

  Shutting the door, I walked over to the sliding glass door, daring to finally open the curtains and look out on the beach. All of the people in their chairs, on their blankets, especially any couples. I dared myself to wonder how happy they were. If any of them thought that the person they were with, happily soaking up the sun, would ever leave.

  “Man, Cara, get a hold of yourself,” I scolded as I slid the door open and stepped out on the balcony. The third floor just didn’t seem high enough away from all of the happiness below. I dared to move my eyes away from the beach and look down in to the small courtyard of hotel, and saw someone looking back up at me. Feeling self-conscious, I smiled, a small nod to the fact that I was invading his privacy by staring down. He smiled back. It was the kind of smile that almost made me forget why I had come to the beach in the first place.

  “Hello, up there!” he yelled.

  Surprised, I almost took a step back before I found my courage. “Um, hi. Having fun down there?”

  It was such a public exchange, and I wondered if others were paying attention to us.

  “I’d be having more fun if I weren’t alone,” he said. “Come down and join me for a drink at the bar?”

  I said the only thing that came to my sleep-deprived mind, “Sure, why not. I’ll meet you there in five minutes.”

  I’d come to the beach to get some closure on LJ, so what better way than to have a drink with another man? Sadly, in my mind I was still doing it because I wanted LJ to come and catch me and whisk me away in his jealousy. I stepped back inside, took a glance in the mirror and decided to keep my hair in the messy bun I had thrown it in earlier. No need to impress a stranger I was just using to buy me a drink. I rarely wore makeup, but I always kept mascara and lip gloss, and swiped each quickly on.

  “Let’s see if you still have it, Cara Lauren.”

  Chapter 2

  Caden

  I hated being here at this particular hotel. I had been here countless times before for meetings and weekend escapes. It had always been with her, and it seemed the CEO of my company loved the Hilton too. Probably because of its proximity to the clubs and colleges. He was a womanizer, always bragging about his accomplishments and latest conquests to any of the guys in the company that would listen.

  I walked through the lobby, my backpack hanging heavy from my arm, and tried to focus on why I was here. I tried not to think about how much I hated the place.

  It used to be our place.

  The place we’d come to escape on weekends. The place she’d finally given me her ultimatum and then walked out. It was a bittersweet memory.

  Freedom, and loneliness.

  My eyes glazed over as I made my way through the people checking in and out until I was pulled back to reality by Graham’s voice.

  “Shit, Caden. You should have hung around another hour,” Graham, the CEO and personal pain in my ass, said. “You could have landed any one of those girls. I don’t think I slept for more than fifteen minutes last night.”

  Looked like he was telling the truth—his bloodshot eyes looked more like big red fried eggs. A sly smile slipped across his face.

  “Shit Graham, sounds amazing, sorry I missed it. I needed to prepare for the meeting today,” I said, shooting him a fake smile and not even pausing a second to hear the rest of his story. I couldn’t have cared less. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  Thank God the company was made up of twenty-somethings who spent their time coding, drinking, and partying, and our retreats were scheduled around the hangovers.

  “That’s why you’re our number one!” he laughed as he stumbled through the crowd. If I were to guess, he had just escorted last night’s date to the front door and was headed back to crash for another six hours.

  I had worked for MaidenTech for the last five years and taken them from working in Graham’s shitty little apartment to being worth a few billion dollars. Graham knew technology. I knew marketing, selling, and relationships.

  Relationships with companies and investors.

  Clearly not with women.

  It was the story of my life, especially over the last five years, ever since I had started trying to build a future for myself. I wanted stability. I wanted success and money and happiness. Some people would probably be happy with three out of four.

  Not me.

  I’d had my share of failed romances. Every woman I ended up attaching myself to ended up being crazy or having some sort of weird hang-up. There was Staci, who was a closet cat lady. I found that out after the
second date and she had invited me over for dinner. Three minutes into the evening and seventeen cats later, I was quickly back in my car. Christie finally revealed she had been battling Lyme disease for the last six years and needed to spend six hours a day meditating in a hot sauna, and she couldn’t eat anything that wasn’t grown by hand or wasn’t blessed by one of her three on-call high priests.

  I had finally come to the realization that being single for the rest of my life was the way to go. That was until Allyson showed up. She seemed to have everything I needed and wanted in life. It took three years for the crazy to actually bubble up the surface.

  The moment full-time commitment and marriage came up, she’d become a different person. She’d embodied the bridezilla cliché. Her complete meltdown had happened in the lobby of the Hilton, the night she’d believed I was going to propose. I’d had no intention of proposing. Ever.

  She dealt out her ultimatum like a second shift blackjack dealer. “Either we get married in the next six months or I’m going to tell Daddy what a horrible, horrible person you are.” She barked out the order like they should have meant something. They didn’t.

  It had seemed like the perfect out. I took it with a smile, turned my back, and walked away. I thought my luck would change, but it hadn’t and now I was married to my job and my gym.

  I pulled up a chair in the corner of the bar adjacent to the pool and ordered a large coffee. “Can you throw a shot of Jameson in that please?” I asked the bartender. She looked like she hadn’t slept much the night before. Her jet-black hair was teased up in a bun and matched the all-black outfit she was wearing—leggings and button up shirt. Standard uniform for a bartender.

  She quickly poured the shot into the coffee and slid it across the bar, not even uttering a word, which was fine with me. I found a corner table out of view of the bar.

  A few stragglers had passed through the bar grabbing drinks and heading out, but it remained mostly empty. It provided the perfect sanctuary to finish my reports of last quarter’s marketing efforts and some new ideas for building up the company.

  “Yeah, I own the company…” The words echoed through the bar in Graham’s familiar voice.

 

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