Billionaire's Fake Fiancé (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #10)

by Claire Adams

  “Hey, Bryce. It's Asher.”

  “I thought you were in France, son?!”

  “Just got back. There was an emergency at the office.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, but don't worry about that. I was just wondering, you up for heading out to the shooting range?”

  I heard him chuckle slowly on the other side of the line. “You got some angst you wanna get out?”

  “I do.”

  “I'll bring the automatic rifles.”

  “Great. I’ll be there in 45.”

  “See you there, soldier! Lock and load!”

  “See you there, Bryce.”

  I turned to Alfred. “You heard that, right? Take me to the hills.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Lilah

  I had arrived back in the States in the late afternoon. I had never flown first class before and it had been quite an experience. After that level of service, respect, and luxury, I definitely wanted to do it again. The next time, however, I would foot the bill for it myself. I didn't want anyone paying my way. Since I had the rare luxury of free time while all the new computers were set up at the office and all the data restored from the cloud backup, I figured I should see Ed since I hadn't seen him for nearly two weeks. Maybe he could help me decipher all the mixed emotions I was dealing with.

  My mind was like a revolving door, and Asher was stuck in it going around and around. He had messaged me on Sunday, and he'd seemed to try to express what came across as genuine feelings of affection for me—but part of me just couldn't shake the suspicion that I might be yet another notch on the bedpost.

  I kept thinking back to how hard I'd once fallen for Jacob. Or rather, how hard I'd let myself fall for another man. Because that was it, wasn't it?

  Jacob hadn't forced me to fall in love with him. Sure he'd been charming, good looking, and suave. He'd certainly made it easy to fall in love with him. But looking back, I also remembered there was a time when I questioned him. There was a tiny gut feeling that I’d ignored. I distinctly remember the moment where I'd thought to myself, You're falling for this guy. Are you sure this is a wise thing to do?

  I gave in to it then. I ignored my gut feeling, abandoned my logic, and gave myself—heart and soul—to this man who'd seemed perfect in most every way.

  I'd blinded myself to reality, to his faults, to all the blaring red flags that anyone else would have seen. In truth, some of my friends did see them. I just rationalized them.

  What did it leave me with? Heartbreak—a month before our wedding.

  I hadn't thought I'd ever even consider opening myself up to another man again, trusting again, or loving again. All of my faith in love had been shattered, crushed beneath the heels of an empty soul who took my heart and kicked it out into the street, then stomped all over it before walking off laughing.

  I shook my head. I had to get my mind off things of the past.

  I took out my phone, pulled up Eddie's name in my contacts, and gave him a call.

  “Hey, Eddie.”

  “Hey, sis, how was your trip to Paris?”

  “Pretty damn amazing, actually.”

  I didn't want to talk about Asher or what had happened between Asher and I. So if Eddie asked, I'd just brush it off and switch topics. After all, aside from what had been going on in my head, I had actually had a great time in Paris. Even if I’d had to do most of the exploring alone—I had to tell someone about the art, culture, and history I'd had the chance to take in. I knew Eddie had been there a few times to play shows with his band, so he would be a great person to talk to about it, without having the thought of Asher hovering over me all the while.

  “Cool, cool. I wonder how it's changed since I was last there?”

  “Well, do you wanna get a beer and we can talk about it? And, I'll show you the pics I took.”

  “Sounds great! I've got a couple photos on this phone, actually. We can compare pics and stories. See you at McGinty's in an hour?”

  “Sounds good. See you then.”

  ***

  “So, how cool was the Louvre? How much time did you get to spend walking around it?” Eddie asked, smiling as he flipped through the photos I'd taken on my phone.

  “It was seriously breathtaking. I mean, I walked around it for a couple of hours, but it felt like only five minutes.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it. I think I spent a whole afternoon their last time I was in Paris. Just wandered around from around lunch time until a security guard came and kicked me out at closing time.”

  “I'll have to go back again. I didn't get to see nearly enough of it.”

  “You will have to. And hopefully billionaire boy will foot the bill again, huh?”

  So far, we'd managed to avoid talking about Asher, but without even mentioning his name, Eddie had brought a flood of memories rushing through my head.

  “Yeah,” I said, somewhat half-heartedly. “I probably will end up going back for another meeting, I think.”

  “So, how's old Asher doing, huh?”

  “He's, uh, he's good.”

  Eddie handed my phone back to me and frowned before taking a swig of his beer.

  “Really? I know that tone. Something doesn't seem right about this.”

  “It's just . . . ya know, Eddie, I don't really want to get into it.”

  He sipped on his beer again and nodded. “Okay. But you know I've always got your back, right, sis? I mean, if he's being a jerk, or whatever, you know I'm here.”

  I couldn't help but smile.

  “And, what are you going to do if he is being a jerk? Kick his ass for me? I'm not in high school any more, Eddie.”

  He grinned. “Sometimes I feel like I still am, though,” he replied. “But seriously, if you wanna talk about it . . . I mean, I know I'm a guy and your brother, so maybe you don't think I'll get it. But hey, I've been on this rock for ten years longer than you, and I think I've learned a few things along the way. Maybe I can help, you know.”

  I leaned across the table and squeezed his hand. “I know, I know. You've been the best brother—and friend—you could possibly have been all my life. And, I love you for that.”

  “Thanks, sis. You know, you're the only one in the family who ever got me—the only one who really cared. And, you always believed in me when everyone else was telling me I was crazy trying to follow the path of a rocker, when everyone else was saying I'd end up homeless in the streets, you were the one who kept telling me: 'I believe in you, Ed. You're my hero. You can do anything you want, if you really believe in yourself.' And you said it with such conviction—”

  “Because I was just a kid,” I interrupted. “I believed it.”

  “Yeah, exactly! Your childlike faith got me through many dark times. And now look where I am. I made it!”

  I looked at him as pride swelled in my chest. “You really did make it, Eddie. I'm proud of you.”

  “And, you have no idea how proud I am of you. Hell, you stormed into that company, what's it called, Sinclair whatever, and you gave them hell! You blew ‘em outta the water with your ideas. You're gonna get right to the top, and nobody—especially not billionaire boy—is gonna stand in your way.

  “You don't need his help. You don't need anything from that guy. You don't even need a dime from him. Because it's all you, you understand? Your talent, your ambition, your drive, your hard work—they've got you this far. And if that guy thinks he can play you, well . . . well, he can just go jump right out of his damn skyscraper and be done with it. Because there's no stopping you, whether you're working for him, or working for someone else. You're gonna be at the very top in just a few short years, sis, just a few short years. I can feel it! I know it!”

  “Aww Eddie, you're just . . . You're the best. Seriously.”

  I stood, walked around the table to where Ed was sitting, and gave him a big hug.

  “I'm just gonna go to the little girls' room. I'll be back in a sec.”

  “Sure thing. Hey, do
me a favor, grab me one more beer from the bar when you come back?”

  “Will do.”

  I went off to the bathroom, feeling recharged and energized after Eddie’s inspiring speech. When I returned, I made a beeline for the bar. As I waited for the bartender to turn my way so I could get her attention, I caught sight of a strikingly handsome man, dressed impeccably in an Italian suit staring intently at me. His perfectly styled, blond hair was combed back in a side part and dark stubble peppered his powerful, square jaw. Ice-blue eyes gazed at me from beneath imposing eyebrows.

  For a few moments, I couldn't take my eyes off of him—but then I felt suddenly uneasy and broke my trance. He, however, maintained his interest in me. After a half smile, he picked up his martini and sidled up to me at the bar.

  “Hi,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly. “You don't know me . . . yet. But I’m hoping to change that. I would certainly like to get to know you.”

  “Really? And who do you think I am that I might be so interesting to get to know?” I’d seen his kind before. They think they’re smooth. If you call them on it, one of two things will happen: you’ll either trip them up and they’ll have nothing, or they’ll feed you some bullshit line and you’ll at least get a good laugh. Either way, they are full of it. I expected nothing different from this one.

  “I believe you are the lovely and talented Lilah Maxwell, rising star of the Sinclair Agency. It's a pleasure to finally see you in the flesh. You're every bit as gorgeous as my . . . assistant . . . says you are.”

  I was immediately taken aback. Who on earth was this devilishly good-looking stranger, and how did he know who I was? I was both intrigued and slightly frightened.

  “And how, precisely, do you know who I am?”

  “We work in the same field, you and I,” he replied.

  “Oh, really? And who might you be?”

  “The name's Savage. Brendan Savage. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lilah. Very, very pleased indeed.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Asher

  I stared up at the starry sky as I sipped on my Glenfiddich 40-year-old whiskey. I enjoyed coming up to the turret of my home to think. I'd set up a moderately powerful telescope because of a lifelong interest in astronomy. Out in the hills beyond the city, the sky was clear and mostly free of the light pollution, which made the city sky murky and orange-tinted at night and blocked out most of the stars.

  Here, the sky was dark, and stars were spread across it from horizon to horizon. Of course, the stars weren’t what was on my mind. That would be Lilah. We'd barely said a word to one another in the office the whole week. She had responded to my texts, but only with short replies that seemed evasive. It was looking as if she had reverted to keeping a cool distance between us. I hadn't pushed things at all, just like Colonel Tanaka had suggested, even after getting that cold reply to my heartfelt message.

  I’d given it a lot of thought before she even returned from Paris and had decided to leave the ball in her court. I was sure that she knew what my feelings for her were. I felt I'd made them pretty clear. If she was willing to reciprocate, well, that would be wonderful. But if not, I wasn't sure if I could keep playing this game. Falling into my arms one minute, then acting as if we were nothing but acquaintances the next—it was not only confusing, it was draining, psychologically and emotionally.

  I took another sip of my whiskey, savoring its dry, woody flavor. There was nothing in the world quite like properly aged single malt whiskey. It reminded me of my grandfather. It was the first taste of alcohol he’d shared with me.

  I stood and headed over to my telescope. There was a full moon, and it was bright and clear in the sky. I leaned over and pressed my eye to the eyepiece, then moved the telescope around until I was focused on the moon. I zoomed in, as close as I could get without losing focus.

  I stared in silent wonder at the craters and valleys of the moon, and for a fleeting, intense moment, I wished that Lilah was by my side to share it with.

  Since I'd been a boy, it had been a dream of mine to be an astronaut. Life, though, had other plans. I loved my job, and the company was my life. I had no regrets about devoting all my energy and talent to it—but still, there remained the dream of one day flying amongst the stars.

  I lost myself, staring at the moon and her craters and hills. I wasn't quite sure how long I'd been staring when my phone rang. I snapped out of the trance, and bent down to pick up the phone from where it was sitting on my deckchair.

  “Asher here,” I said.

  “Asher, it's Alan.”

  “Alan, good to hear from you. Got any news for me?”

  “Our PI has some leads on the case. He'd like to meet with you and to discuss a few things.”

  “I'd like that, too.”

  “When do you have time?”

  “Whew. This week is crazy. I'll be working over the weekend, too. There's really no end in sight. Can he call Janice and see what’s on my schedule early next week?”

  “Asher, you'll wanna hear what this guy has to say and you’re not going to want to wait.”

  I glanced at my watch. “All right, listen, it's still early enough in the evening. It's only around 8:00. Do you think the guy could meet now?”

  “I’m sure he'll be fine with that.”

  “I'll send my driver out to pick you and him up. We can talk here at my place, if that's all right. I have a few items of work I need to get done, and I can't waste time driving myself.”

  “That'll be fine, sir. I'll send you my address and his, and we'll see you shortly.”

  “Excellent. I'll forward the addresses and your numbers to my driver. See you soon.”

  I cut off the call and waited for the text with the addresses. When they came through, I forwarded them to Alfred, who left to pick up Alan and the PI. I sighed, reluctant to leave my little sanctuary with my telescope and whiskey.

  I knew, however, that I needed to get to the work I needed to finish, not just because it needed to be done, but also because it helped distract me from getting too lost in my thoughts, too fixated on a certain, beautiful woman and her unpredictable behavior.

  ***

  “Matt Eaton, pleased to meet you,” the PI said as he shook my hand.

  He was a short, bald, rotund man with a thick, walrus mustache—he didn't look anything like the type of private investigators you see in movies or on TV shows. Still, I knew from his reputation that he was one of the best, and that's why I'd hired him.

  “Great to meet you, Matt, and thanks for helping us with this case. Now, why don't you and Alan come on in and we'll have a seat and talk about what you've discovered.”

  “Thanks.”

  We went into my den, where there were a couple of sofas and a large coffee table. This was where I usually received guests and business associates. Alfred came out to see if anyone wanted drinks.

  “I'll have some Glenfiddich, on the rocks,” I said to him. “Gents, what would you guys like?”

  “A beer for me, whatever kind you've got,” replied Alan.

  “No booze for me,” said Matt, “I gave it up years ago. Orange juice, if you've got it.”

  Alfred nodded and went off to prepare the drinks.

  “Well, Matt, let's not waste time—on to business. What have you found out so far?”

  “I'm pretty sure your suspicions are correct, Mr. Sinclair. All the evidence is pointing to Brendan Savage being behind the break-in.”

  I nodded grimly. “I knew it. I just knew it. That bastard.”

  “Unfortunately, as of yet, I don't have anything conclusive,” Matt added. “Nothing that would hold up in court, anyway. I mean, that's what you're after, right? You wanna hit this guy with everything you've got, of course, but only when you've got a watertight case, only when you can prove that he was behind this. Right now, I'll tell you, what I've got is very strong, but just not enough to be watertight. He's done a great job of covering his tracks. He's got some real pros working for h
im.”

  I sighed. “Do you think you can get a watertight case against him?”

  “I might be able to, but it's gonna take a lot more time and a lot more digging.”

  “That's fine. You keep working on it. I want to prove that this guy is behind it. I want to face him in court—and win.”

  “That’s my plan, Mr. Sinclair. Just give me enough time to gather the evidence I need on him, and you'll win.”

  “Good.”

  Alan cleared his throat before he piped in. “There's more, though, sir. Matt has discovered something else about Mr. Savage and his interest in your company. Or rather, his interest in someone specific in your company.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

  “Yes, sir. One of the things the hacker was able to penetrate was the employee database. However, the strange thing was he only extracted one file from the hundreds of files there,” Alan added.

  “And just who’s file did they take?”

  “Lilah Maxwell,” Matt commented.

  A jolt ripped through my body at the mention of her name.

  “What?” I exclaimed. “Lilah?”

  Matt nodded. “Yes. When we learned it was her file that had been extracted, I did some digging. It seems Brendan Savage is very, very interested in her. I believe he intends to poach her from your company.”

  Flushes of heat surged along my skin. “How do you know this?”

  “I've been trailing Savage in the evening hours since you mentioned you suspected him. And it turns out, he's been following Ms. Maxwell. I'm not sure how long this has gone on for. But he definitely knows that she was the driving force behind the sudden success of one of your company's recent campaigns. According to my source, he wants her on his team.”

  “Tell me more,” I said, although I wasn't quite sure that I wanted to hear more.

  “Savage may have even tapped her phone. He knew that she was meeting her brother Eddie at McGinty's pub on Tuesday evening. He set it up so that he would 'bump into' her. I was there, at the back, watching everything. He really turned on the charm.”