Breaking Point: A Steamy Billionaire Romance

by BAKER, J. B.

  BREAKING POINT

  CONTENTS

  THE INSIDE STORY/BACKSTORY

  BOOK DESCRIPTION

  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

  BACK OF BOOK/ INSIDE STORY OFFER

  THANK YOU MESSAGE

  ABOUT THE J.B. BAKER

  The Inside Story/Backstory

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  The inside story takes you back 2 years in time before Rachel’s dilemma and it’s a short read you won’t want to miss out on!

  Book Description

  I want her. I always get what I want. Only this time it will be for good!!!

  Sean

  She’s more beautiful than ever. She nearly broke down the walls of my mental fortress two years ago when we slept together. I can still taste her sweetness on my lips. It had been so difficult to walk out on her and yet I had to.

  I thought I would never see her again, but I couldn’t stay away. Rachel is like a drug and I’m hooked. Her breaking point is where I’ll take her!

  Fate is inexorable and our destinies are entwined; the day we meet again we will be bond together. I know that now, and I will do all it takes to get her.

  Rachel

  It’s him again, the man who impacted my life once already; the experience was not a good one despite the searing hot passion.

  He’s super intelligent, insanely gorgeous with beryl green eyes and richer than Croesus.

  And now my company is on the brink and I have no choice but to seek out this sinful billionaire in an attempt to save everything I worked so hard for.

  Will I succumb to his devilish charms once more…never; I despise the man with a vengeance.

  And yet…

  He claimed me once before and took me past my breaking point – there was no way back from that, and to this day, I think that there never will be

  Chapter 1

  RACHEL

  “I can’t believe it has come to this. We’ve worked so hard and that predator always wins in the end. He has the Midas touch – everything he touches turns to gold.” Grumbling, I march up and down on the tarmac at the New Jersey Teterboro airport for private jets. The fresh autumn breeze carries my words away as if I never uttered them.

  It is cold out and the wind makes it even worse. Already, the leaves on the trees in Central Park have taken on the myriad hues of autumn. Soon, they will carpet the grass in every red and orange colour imaginable. I usually love this time of the year, but this year, its onset brings bad tidings with it.

  The woman with me stares ahead with a deep frown etched onto her dark features. Michonne Mitchell has been by my side since we started our company two years ago and long before in our previous postings. She is the head of project Sunbeam, co-founder of Saunders & Mitchell and a veteran in the communications business.

  “I don’t want to say, I told you so, but…”

  “Then don’t,” I snap.

  Like a hawk, I watch the private jet taxy down the runway toward the main terminal building. A deep sigh escapes my mouth. That plane is about to take me to the man who would decide my destiny. This is the third time in my life that he will have a life-altering effect on my fate. I ask myself how one man can have so much power over me. It is as if our destinies are forever entwined. It is a notion that is far too romantic for the likes of him but far too suitable for me.

  The wheezing sound of the turbines becomes more persistent as the jet approaches. I feel my hair flap about as a gust from the plane’s engines attacks me. In that moment, I wish I had tied it back like Michonne.

  There are many things my friend does far better than me. For one, she advised me two years back to maintain a broad view and to never put all of one’s eggs in one basket – I had not listened. Instead, I did the opposite.

  “You’re being accorded quite an honour. I think it’s the third largest plane in his fleet of six.” Michonne laughs like somebody mounting the steps to the gallows. “Maybe he’s trying to impress you.”

  “You’re a real comedian, you know that. Fuck, how can you make jokes at a time like this?”

  I press the palms of my hands together so forcefully that my wrists start to hurt. It is unusual for me to use profanity. I consider it a sign of weakness and a severe mark of a feeble intellect. I laughed so hard when my favourite character in the series Downton Abbey, the dowager countess, said, “vulgarity is no substitute for wit.”

  Watching TV is one of the few pleasures I have when I am not at the office. Well, that and drinking red wine. Looking at the plane, more ripe oaths come to mind. I find I could always swear when I see that name.

  “I merely stated the obvious. That plane over there is a Gulfstream VI. The gentleman you are going to see has a Boeing 777 Dreamliner and he’s one of the only men on the planet to own a private Airbus 380. Ergo…” Michonne points at the plane that continues to slowly move closer to our position. “That is the third largest plane in his fleet.” She smiles happily as if she has just seen a bouquet of flowers in her lover’s hands.

  I shake my head and roll my eyes. Despite my dire situation, I can’t help myself from chuckling. “You sound like you admire the man.”

  “Oh, I do. He’s one of the most intelligent businessmen around, and you’d be smart to never forget that, despite his reputation and…”

  I lift my hand to forestall her from stating the obvious. “Yeah, just our luck we have to deal with him again, eh.”

  Michonne shrugs. “It doesn’t have to be that bad. If I’m not mistaken, with this most recent deal, he becomes the richest man on the planet. We could still be of some use to him. He’ll be needing good people to help him stay on the right side of his stakeholders.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Have you ever seen or heard me joke about such things?”

  I smile wanly. “No. Although I wish you were now.”

  “After this deal, he will overtake Bill Gates, Jeff Bezos and Carlos Slim as the world’s wealthiest man. Not bad for a guy who’s only forty years old.”

  “I guess.”

  I can’t for the life of me think of what I could do for the newly minted richest man on the planet. Whatever he wants he can have with a click of his fingers. He can buy anything or anyone he wants.

  Surely, I couldn’t care less about the man’s power or wealth. All I want to know is whether he might help my company now that it is in difficulty. Everything happened as Michonne predicted two years ago. Our then new client, Sunbeam Energy Corp, had grown and grown, eating up more and more of our work hours. We couldn’t expand the firm fast enough to absorb all of this new work. Consequently, we started dumping our smaller clients until Sunbeam was our only remaining customer.

  Sunbeam’s CEO had assured us that they were safe and our position as their chief communications’ consultancy was secure. He never went as far as promising me that he would dis
cuss a potential integration of the firm in due course, but he had suggested it. It had been everything I ever dreamed of. Also, there were hints that I would become the chief communications officer should a deal ever materialize.

  Instead, I received a call a few weeks ago from one of the top people working at Sunbeam that the company had been taken over by a competitor. Wall Street could not ignore the deal offered to the two shareholder groups. Furthermore, the larger firm had become their largest consumer through a network of subsidiaries. The deal was done even before it hit the press. The founding shareholders of Sunbeam would soon enter the exalted echelons of the Forbes five hundred richest people in the world. The deal was too good to be true, but not for me.

  “It looks like it’s your cue, Rachel.”

  I turn to look at my friend and business partner. Michonne appears tired. Nearing fifty years of age, there is still enough fight left in her, but the stress is taking its toll. Already, the advent of grey streaks her temples and there are little wrinkles around her eyes. The tall, reedy Afro-American woman who has been with me since I graduated is tired. “I wish you were coming with me.”

  Michonne arches her eyebrows. “I think you’ll do just fine without me.”

  “What if he tries to get me to, you know?”

  “Tries to fuck you?”

  I cringe. What Michonne said makes me think. The last time I was intimate with a man was with him. It had felt so exhilarating and, at the same time, humiliating. I had a series of the most earthshattering orgasms only to be fired after. Did I do something wrong? Am I not as beautiful as the looks of approval I get from men suggest? Possibly, I am not billionaire material and just a simple girl from north London making her way in life. I vow that I will never touch another man again. They are just not worth it.

  As if she can read my mind, Michonne chuckles throatily. “It’s because of women like you that the fertility rate amongst humans is dropping continuously. Sex ain’t so bad…you gotta do it with the right guy.”

  “I don’t mind the sex,” I lie, placing my hands on my hips as I try to banish the cocky image of Sean to the back of my mind. It still pisses me off to this day that the settlement he offered me was less money than what he makes in a few seconds. Sean bloody Courtney can do anything he wants.

  “Oh, really. When was the last time you were intimate with a guy? When you lost your virginity a thousand years ago?” Michonne sniggers.

  “I can’t remember,” I lie for the second time. Of course, I can remember exactly what it was like with him. My skin crawls on impulse when I recall the way he handled my body with his strong hands. A hot flush shoots up my neck despite the cold.

  “That good was it?” Michonne scoffs again. “Who cares anyway? I wish you’d find somebody to love though.” She takes my hand. “Life’s so much easier when you have somebody in your life, you know?”

  “Yeah, I guess. I just can’t seem to meet anybody.”

  “Hah, why do you think that is? I’ll tell you why – it’s because you wake up at six am, go to the office, go back home at eight pm, and then order take-out before you pass out on the couch at nine-thirty pm.”

  I nod. Hearing my routine spoken out loudly does kind of enhance its deficiencies. “My schedule doesn’t really leave much time for anything else, does it?”

  She shakes her head and hacks out a laugh. “No, not really.” She indicates with her head at the Gulfstream VI that has finally taxied to a complete halt in front of us. Already, the pilot has aligned it so that the side of the plane faces us. Presently, the mobile stairway is being rolled against it and a red carpet waits in preparation as if I am some sort of potentate.

  I mouth the words, “Courtney Holdings Incorporated.”

  They are proudly imprinted in expressive black lettering on the fuselage of the airplane. I think for a moment about the richest man on the planet. I wonder whether he is still as irresistibly attractive. I ask myself why it had to be precisely his help that I needed to save my firm. I would do anything for my company, but could I go so far as to have sex with him no matter how despicable I find the notion? Doing it with him two years ago cost me my job. Would it cost me my firm this time or would he insist upon it as part of the deal - a sweetener or sorts for old time sake?

  “Don’t worry, Rachel,” says Michonne, breaking the silence. She has a knowing smile on her face.

  “How can I not?”

  She shrugs. “Because you’re too old for Sean Courtney. He considers girls over thirty passed it. That man wouldn’t tap you with a barge pole. He’d be afraid that if he touches you, your skin would come sliding off the muscle and bone. Mark my words…” Michonne lifts her hands in front of herself when I attack her. The two of us laugh, as we play fight in front of the plane.

  “You’re too freaking old for Sean.” She couldn’t stop laughing as I start tickling her.

  “You’re a real bitch, Michonne. There’s no way I’m passed it at thirty-one. Today’s thirty is the new twenty.”

  Breathing heavily, she says, “I didn’t say that it’s my opinion on the matter. I only said that Sean Courtney doesn’t like ‘em old.” She steps back hastily to avoid another squeeze to her midriff. “You, my dear, are still a picture of womanly perfection and youth.”

  I roll my eyes. Seeing the door of the plane open, I quickly get serious again. There is not much more time. Soon, I will be on my way to England. “Tell me again, Michonne. What is it that we can offer Sean?”

  She doesn’t need a single second to think. “We have the expertise, experience and, most of all, we’re the only firm that knows every nook and cranny of Sunbeam’s business. That’s our biggest selling point – it would cost him a fortune to train and integrate another team.”

  I sigh. “Is it enough though?”

  “For a smart businessman it is. For a fool, no.”

  “Is Sean smart?” I ask, even though I know the answer to my question.

  “Yeah, the smartest there is,” says Michonne confidently.

  I nod. “Alright, I guess it’s all up to me to hold a fucking good presentation.”

  Michonne arches her eyebrows. “Let’s hope that thingy in your series isn’t right when she claimed that vulgarity is no substitute for wit because you got a shit load of vulgarity going on in your life right now. We need wit, girl.”

  I can’t help myself from laughing. I love my friend like a sister and maybe even the mother I never really had. I hug her. “Thanks, Michonne.”

  “For what?”

  “For always being there, and saying the right stuff even when I don’t listen.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. At your age, I would have done the same. The Sunbeam deal was too good to pass up. Now, the time’s come to find out if your little gamble paid off.”

  I break the hug and take a step back. “And if it hasn’t…” I take a deep breath. “Worked out?”

  My friend jiggles her shoulders. “Then we will start from the beginning again. Everybody does it – there’s no shame in failing once or twice, as long as you don’t make the same mistakes a second time. We’ll be okay, Rachel. Never lose hope and for God’s sake don’t let Sean intimidate you. He’s like a tiger – when he spots weakness, he’ll move in and strike. Before you know it, you have lost your firm, your job and your dignity to boot.”

  I press my lips together, drinking in the older and wiser woman’s advice. I am about to respond when a chirrupy voice cuts me off.

  “Miss Saunders, I presume.”

  “Yes, I am she.” I turn away from my friend and nod at the flight attendant. I can literarily feel my eyes growing in size when I see her.

  “Is that all of your luggage, ma’am?”

  “Yes, I didn’t think I’d need much more. I’ll be flying right back tomorrow.” As I speak, I can’t take my eyes off the twenty-something woman standing before me. Who the hell is this?

  “That’s not what I’ve been told,” says the stunning blonde flight atten
dant that would have been more aptly suited as a Victoria Secrets’ model.

  Her measurements, even though slightly too thin, are perfect. Her golden blonde hair looks like it has been groomed for hours in oily vitamin and protein packs. Her face is void of any blemishes or any other parasites that most women have feeding on their skin if they don’t have the time to frequent a beautician on a daily basis.

  “Oh, when’s my flight back to New York if not tomorrow?”

  “It’s not for me to say, but for the captain of Courtney Three. He has all the details – shall we?” Barbie holds out a long, bone-thin arm in the direction of the plane.

  Michonne steps forward. “That would mean that you have no idea when your next flight is, young lady. I doubt that you are that stupid and uninformed.” Her voice is hard and as cold as ice.

  “No, I wouldn’t say that I am,” says the flight attendant haughtily. “It’s just protocol. I only follow orders and do as I’m told.”

  “I’ll bet.” Michonne rolls her eyes. “Then you will kindly inform Miss Saunders when Mr Courtney has a mind to send her back home. She has a company to run, and can’t go missing without knowing when she’ll be back.”

  An evil sneer plays on the flight attendants’ lips. “I have no orders for a flight back to New York, ma’am.”

  She turns to look at me. “If you’d come with me, please. Mr Courtney is a very busy man and we have a very tight schedule to keep.” Without waiting for a reply, she spins on her heels and walks toward the plane.

  Michonne and I exchange glances. She is the first to speak. “You don’t have to do this, Rachel.”

  I shake my head. “Yeah, I do. Wish me luck.” I give Michonne a hug and, without another word, I pull away and follow the flight attendant toward the plane.

  Chapter 2

  RACHEL

  “Good morning, Miss Saunders. Please have a seat over there. Mr Courtney will see you shortly,” says receptionist Number 1 in a ludicrously friendly voice that has the power to make me cringe.