The Billionaire's Secret: Enemies to Lovers Fake Marriage Romance (Big Bad Billionaires Book 2)

by L. Steele

  "Oh?" I bite the inside of my cheek, "Who would you rather see me with, Saint?"

  He growls.

  "Who’s the man for me? Who do you think can protect me the way you can? Who’d watch over me like my own protective guardian angel, and ensure he was there each and every turn so nothing ever touched me?"

  His nostrils flare.

  "Tell me, Saint."

  "Me," he growls, "Only I can do this. I trust myself for this job, no one else."

  I chuckle.

  He glowers, "Don’t think you’ve won this argument."

  "No?" I tip up my chin.

  He shakes his head, "We’re just getting started, Gigi."

  He grabs up the cotton ball, then helps me out of my shirt and dabs antiseptic on the scratch on my arm. I hiss and he bends his head and blows on the wound.

  Goosebumps rise on my skin.

  "Cold?"

  "No." I watch as he straightens, then tosses the cotton into the dustbin. He rips open a bandage, and sticks it over the wound. "It’s the best I can do, until I can get a doctor to come in and check you out."

  "I’m fine."

  He drops the sticky paper from the bandage into the waste basket then straightens, "Humor me."

  "But-"

  "If not me, for the baby."

  Right. "Fine," I swallow, "but don’t think you can always use the baby as an excuse."

  "If it gets you to do what I want..."

  I frown, "Honestly, Saint, you could at least pretend you aren’t trying to get your own way."

  "What fun would that be, huh?" he shrugs out of his shirt, then drapes it over my shoulder.

  "What are you doing?" I frown.

  "Wear this."

  I glance at my shirt, which is ripped and dirty. Not that I want to wear it again. It reminds me too much of what had transpired—that feeling of helplessness, of sitting in the dark and waiting for the worst— No. I shake my head. Never again. I don’t want to be in that position ever again.

  Saint snatches up my soiled shirt. "I’ll get rid of it."

  I peer up at him, "Thanks." I pull on his shirt and his scent of dark masculinity instantly cocoons me. My heart skitters and my pussy clenches. Shit, not the time to think about sex. Not. I button up the shirt, then fold up the sleeves.

  He drops the shirt into the bath tub, "I’ll get housekeeping on it."

  I nod. Of course, he’d have servants at his beck and call. Where the hell do I fit in with all of this?

  "Hey," he hooks his knuckles under my chin so I have no choice but to meet his gaze, "everything will be okay, I promise."

  A slight pain catches at my lower belly. I rub at it.

  "You okay?" he asks.

  I nod, then push off the counter, "Let’s get this over with."

  50

  What is mine but only you can have?

  Answer: My heart

  * * *

  Saint

  * * *

  I stalk into the living room, making sure to keep myself between her and the guys. Right now, I don’t trust any other male around her—definitely, not that bastard Antonio. Is it the fact that she is pregnant? Pregnant. My heart begins to thud. Shit, what am I going to do about that? How will it feel to have a child…a fragile life dependent on me? Will I be able to do justice in my role as their father?

  Am I good enough for this? Will I be able to fulfill my responsibilities? What if I can’t? What if I fail?

  Just as I had all that time ago?

  When he’d asked me the riddles.

  And I hadn’t known the answers.

  And he’d hurt me. I hadn’t been able to defend myself.

  Will I be able to protect my family? My palms begin to sweat. The soles of my feet burn. I stumble and someone grasps my elbow. Warm fingers entangle with mine. I glance down to find Gigi holding my hand.

  "You okay?" she whispers.

  I glance into those green eyes, "Now, I am."

  Her lips curve in a slight smile.

  "I love you," I keep my voice low enough that the others can’t hear me.

  She blinks, as if surprised, then her cheeks flush, and she glances away. A hot sensation stabs my chest. Does she have any feelings for me? Will she forgive me for what I did—that I hadn’t been able to accept the fact that she was having my child? My flesh and blood. Mine. I tighten my grasp on her hand, then step forward. I urge her to sink into an armchair and stand next to her.

  Antonio looks up from the settee across the room. Weston is seated in a chair on his left. Sinclair leans a hip against the wall, his gun trained on Antonio.

  "Have you explained our plan to him?" I ask.

  Weston nods.

  I turn to Antonio. "You agree then?"

  He lowers his chin, "You mean turn against my people, and lead you to the person responsible for what happened to the Seven of you?" He glances up, "What do I get in return?"

  "You get to walk away from this alive."

  "And if I don’t?"

  I lean forward on the balls of my feet, "We’ll hand you over to the authorities, and trust me, you’ll never get to be a free man again."

  He sits up straight, his massive frame taking up a big portion of the settee, "I’m not exactly a free man now."

  "You’ll have a chance to rescue Nina—"

  His jaw hardens.

  Ah! Interesting. This is his weak spot. Clearly, the man isn’t as smart as I’d given him credit for. If he were, he would never have revealed it to me.

  "You’ll have the means to leave the Mafia, start a new life with her, if that's what you want..."

  The skin around his lips whitens. He squeezes his fingers together, and the skin of his knuckles stretches white.

  This is a calculated move, of course. Dangling everything he wants in front of his eyes, only to rip it all away. Unless he cooperates, of course.

  I prod him, "What do you say?"

  Antonio glances at Gigi.

  "Don’t look at her, you asshole," I growl, then clamp my lips shut. Apparently, Antonio isn’t the only one unable to control himself. This woman has come to mean more than anything in the world to me.

  He tilts his head, "You love her?"

  I frown, "What’s that got to do with anything?"

  He levels an intense stare, daring me to answer him.

  "Of course, I do, you piece of shit."

  "You’ll take care of Victoria?" he asks.

  I take a step forward and Gigi grabs my hand. I glance down and she shakes her head. Shit, I’m letting him provoke me. Again.

  "Better than myself," I reply.

  "You’re aware there’s nothing remotely romantic between us, right?" he uncurls his fists.

  "The hell are you trying to say?" I growl.

  "Nina was my ward, so to speak. I was responsible for her wellbeing. Human relations... They can be complicated, you know?" He drums his fingers on his thigh, "At some point, my feelings for her got more intense. I got personally involved. She’d never forgive me if something were to happen to her friend."

  I drag my fingers through my hair, "So why did you shoot at Victoria?"

  "It was a flesh wound. It got your attention, made you realize how much you need her in your life."

  "You kidnapped her," I thrust out my chest.

  "And sent you to her," he tilts his head, “because you still allowed her to walk away, after almost losing her once.

  He’s right.

  "And here you are confronting us again, instead of escaping?" I frown. "Why didn't you ask Victoria about the bug when you took her?"

  His jaw hardens, all expression wiped off from his face.

  "Well?" I lean forward on the balls of my feet, "What's your play?"

  Antonio glances around the room, then turns his gaze back on me. "There's no play."

  I straighten, "You're lying."

  "I discovered the bug, after you rescued her." He grits his teeth.

  "You believe this asshole?" Weston mutters.


  "Nah, do you?" I tilt my head.

  Antonio's lips quirk, "The one time in my life I do something unselfish..." He shakes his head.

  "What the fuck are you talking about?"

  He sighs, "You had your head so far up your ass, you couldn’t see how important she was to you. I wanted to push you along, make you come to your senses and own up to your feelings." He cups his chin in his hand. "It's what Nina would have wanted."

  "That doesn’t explain why you came storming into the hotel," I retort.

  His features stay impassive.

  "Well?" I growl. "Now is your chance to come clean, you bastard."

  "When I discovered the bug, I got pissed off. By putting me at risk, you put Nina in danger and that sent me off the deep end." He draws in a breath. "I wasn't thinking clearly... I charged back to challenge Victoria on it," he says. "By the time I came to my senses, I was already here in your hotel..." His voice tapers off. "I knew it could be a mistake, but I thought I might be able to turn the situation to my advantage."

  "You wanted to be found out by us?" I scowl before another thought occurs to me, "You hoped we’d make you an offer to work with us?"

  "That's what I had calculated," he nods.

  "You took a risk." I rub the back of my neck. Should I believe him? Is he telling the truth? "You willingly put yourself in danger. Why?"

  "It seemed like my best shot," Antonio says simply.

  I glare at him, "That's not the only reason, is it?"

  He hesitates.

  "I am calling the cops," I threaten.

  "You wouldn't," Antonio growls. For the first time, he seems shaken. Good.

  "Try me," I drawl.

  He glances at Gigi, then back at me.

  Anger crowds my mind. "That's it," I snap, reach for my phone.

  "Wait," he mutters.

  I keep my fingers poised over the keypad.

  He sits up straight, places the fingertips of his hands together. "Nina," he says, his voice shorn of all emotion, "I did it for her."

  "For Nina?" I frown, "Explain."

  "I promised Nina that her friend would be taken care of, and I thought you would do that, but you’re an idiot—”

  I growl.

  He holds up his hands in supplication, “The point is, you weren’t taking care of her, and I needed to make sure that you did. That’s what triggered the idea of Victoria's kidnapping..." He shrugs, "You went through a similar experience," he meets my gaze—the fucker actually looks me in the eye—and says, "and you needed something drastic to—I don’t know—make you realize that you were fucking things up."

  My vision tunnels; the blood pounds in my temples. Only when my fist connects with the side of his face do I realize that I have closed the distance between us. His head snaps back and blood erupts from his mouth.

  "That's for putting Victoria's life in danger, you bastard."

  He chuckles, wipes the blood from his face and looks around the room, a satisfied gleam in his eyes.

  The fuck? I raise my fist again.

  Weston grabs my shoulder. "Let him be."

  "No," I growl. "You heard what he said. Asshole's fucking with me."

  "He's illustrating how emotions can make you lose your cool to the point that they trip you up," Weston cautions.

  "Weston's right," Sinner adds.

  "The fuck I care about that?" I snarl.

  "Fucker's methods are unconventional," Weston agrees, "but damn , if it didn't work, right?"

  Gigi makes a sound somewhere between a cry and a laugh. "He got through to you, Saint. I was never in any danger, and besides," she steps forward, "he did it for Nina."

  I straighten, make to swing at Antonio again, but Gigi grabs my arm. "Please, Saint, he put his life at risk for Nina, and that has to mean something."

  Fuck, if that negates how he'd threatened Gigi's life, but if she says... Well, then... I draw in a breath. "This Nina," I say, trying to piece things together, "she's important to you?"

  "I already told you she is." His dark gaze grows inscrutable. "It's why I'll take this deal with you."

  "So, you’re agreeing to spy on the Mafia and help us track down who was responsible for the kidnapping when we were kids?"

  He nods, "It won’t be easy, but I have some ideas."

  "Life’s not easy," I glower.

  "If something goes wrong..." he glances at the other two, then at me, "If they discover I’ve turned on them, I need you to promise get Nina out."

  Victoria squeezes my hand.

  "For my wife," I growl, "I’ll do it for her."

  He jerks his chin, "Guess we have an agreement then."

  "What about the USB you appropriated?"

  "The Mafia wants it back." He tucks his elbows into his side.

  "The fuck would they want that for?" I rub the back of my neck.

  He raises his shoulders, "My guess is that the USB is marked in some form that can help them trace it back to its owner. They want it to help track down the snitch who sent it to you." He cracks his neck. "I’m only the messenger in this. Suffice to say, it's my ticket to get back in with them."

  I scowl.

  Antonio continues, "As for Victoria..."

  I growl.

  He raises his hands, "I let her go—doesn't mean the Mafia won’t change their mind and come after her."

  "You focus on your mission," I lean forward on the balls of my feet, "I'll take care of what's mine."

  Victoria tugs on my sleeve.

  I turn to her. Her face is pale.

  "You okay?"

  She presses a hand to her belly; sweat beads her upper lip,

  "Victoria!" My heart begins to thud, "What's wrong?"

  "I…I’m not sure." She pitches forward.

  51

  Saint

  * * *

  "It's my fault." I drag my fingers through my hair, "I didn't get to her in time, and now she's in there struggling for her life."

  I dig the heels of my boots into the carpet, survey the bland surroundings of the waiting room in the hospital—the same hospital where Weston had been admitted earlier.

  "Now, let's not jump to conclusions," Sinclair squeezes my shoulder. "Let's wait for the doc's verdict.” He continues, “By the way, in case you were wondering, I cleared things up with Antonio—"

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Nevertheless, I removed the bug on the USB and sent him on his way.”

  I ignore him, "What's taking them so long in there?"

  "Uh, the fact that you insisted Weston be present as they examine her?"

  "They should be used to it by now," I mutter. "Besides, it's Weston's hospital, isn't it? And he was already with us. They can damn well do as he says...and me, for that matter.”

  "Not that I don’t understand the sentiment," Sinclair sprawls in his seat, his suit none the worse for wear. "But...even I know better than to get in the way of doctors and such fine professionals who are specialists in their field."

  "Easy for you to say." I squeeze my fingers into my sides, "If that had been Summer in there..."

  His jaw flexes. "Fine," he purses is lips, "what's your point?"

  "My point is..." I draw a blank. Run my finger around the sleeve of my shirt. "It's...shit..." I squeeze the bridge of my nose. "I don’t know, what it is." What's wrong with me? My wife had collapsed, and this time I hadn't acted quickly enough. I had watched, rooted to the spot, as she had slumped forward, collapsed to the floor. I'd rushed to her, pulled her into my arms, watched as her body had bucked in my arms. Her eyes had rolled back in her head, and all color had leached from her face.

  My hands and feet had gone numb, I could barely move, and couldn't string two thoughts together. Me, the man who always has an answer to every question. I couldn't do anything but hold her in my arms... And pray.

  Fuck! I've never been religious, never been to a church in my life. But if there is a power larger than all of us, then I had appealed to it for help. I had sworn th
at if she was okay, I'd contribute a good chunk of my assets to FOK media—that's short for Full of Kindness, nope I kid you not—the non-profit that the Seven of us had founded. I'll use the money to do good... In my own way.

  I'd held her hand all the way to the hospital in the ambulance. She'd regained consciousness en route and had cried. She'd been out of her head with panic that she was losing the baby—our baby, fuck! The little being whose presence was only beginning to take shape in my life... Had it been snatched away before it had materialized?

  I hadn't wanted the baby... But if anything happens to either of them, I'll never forgive myself... My heart begins to race and a hollow sensation roils in the pit of my stomach. Bile laces my tongue and I swallow it back. No, I am not going to lose her or the child. I want both of them. I need them in my life—to anchor me, to love, and to be loved. Is this what it means to love and to be loved? To rip out my guts, expose myself to the world, to share my deepest weaknesses and invite the possibility that I'll never recover from the sucker punch?

  I jump up from the chair and begin to pace. One foot in front of the other, don't lose it. You owe it to her to keep it together. You need to be strong.

  But if I had been better at taking care of her, she wouldn't have landed here in the first place.

  If I hadn't taken her up on the offer in the beginning, it would have never come to this. I ball my fingers at my sides. I couldn’t have resisted her. No way, would I have turned her away. The thought of her with any other man...having anyone else's child? I dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands with such force that pain shoots up my arm. She is mine. This child is mine. Everything I want is in that room, waiting for me to acknowledge it, to accept it. Am I too late? Have I missed what was right in front of me all along? I want this child, need her in my life more than anything else in this world.

  If something were to happen to her or to the child, I'd... I drag in a sharp breath.

  Footsteps sound.

  I swivel around as Weston walks in the door. He pauses inside, leans his shoulder against the door frame. Whiskers darken his cheeks and his eyes are bloodshot.