Billionaire Blackmail

By Alison Aimes

After a childhood spent on the streets, ruthless billionaire Nik Valenti has had his share of dealing with crooks. He thought that was behind him. Then five million dollars goes missing...and he knows exactly who stole it. Now, with pride, money, and his company's survival at stake, he won't rest until the beautiful con artist has experienced his own brand of justice.

Sara Turner is no angel, but she’s worked hard to proves he’s not like her family. Then she’s accused of embezzling millions. Worse, the sexy billionaire wants answers. And he's come up with a foolproof way to ensure he gets them. One Sara must accept if she doesn't want to end up injail.

They might be enemies, but the passion between them is all-consuming, and each time Nik peels away a layer, he discovers there’s more to Sara than first meets the eye. He’s willing to put everything on the line to find the truth...except his heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Jul 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781633756540

Book preview

Chapter One

It’s time. Nikolas Valenti eased the phone into its cradle, a white-hot flare of anticipation twisting through him. Have the car brought round.

Now? Alatza, the head of his security team, had been slouching against the desk listening in on the detective’s call. He stood military-straight now, his close-cut salt-and-pepper hair bristling along with the rest of him. Rushing in doesn’t make sense.

I’m confronting her no matter what. Recent events just sped up the time table. Nik straightened his already crisp red silk tie, his gaze shifting to the New York skyline framed by the sweeping windows of his penthouse office. He’d worked his ass off to climb to such heights. No one was taking that from him now. I’ve waited long enough.

Three months of checking and rechecking and the evidence always led back to the same conclusion. Sara Turner had played him for a fool.

But if we wait just a little longer… Alatza trailed off and didn’t say what they both already knew. With a few more days, they might be able to get the passcodes, unlock those offshore accounts, and get back the stolen money without negotiating. But might wasn’t good enough.

I’ve got the best chance of resolving this quietly if I see to it myself.

Are you sure this is what you want? His head of security wasn’t exactly a yes-man. She meant something to you once.

If the words hadn’t stung, Nik might have laughed. Alatza sounded more like a father figure than a grizzled bodyguard. But Nik wasn’t looking for a dad. He’d never had one as a kid. He didn’t need one now.

We dated. We fooled around. No one tattooed the other’s name over their heart. Don’t stress so much. This time round, I know how she operates. I’ve got this.

He unfolded from his chair, dwarfing the older man, whose wide, stout body had made him an effective and intimidating bodyguard. But at six foot three, Nik was no slouch, either.

He’d read a silly article about himself once which said if he hadn’t gone into business he’d have found success in boxing. He didn’t know if the reporter’s opinion stemmed from his size, or from his reputation as a ruthless bastard. And, in keeping with his rep, he didn’t really care.

Truth was he had learned early on how to take a punch and get back up. How to identify an opponent’s weakness and use it to bring him to his knees. No one was more driven to succeed, more determined to prove to those who’d dismissed him that he would never go down for the count. So, silly or not, the reporter was right in one respect—beneath his expensive suits and wealthy sophistication, Nik was, and always would be, a merciless fighter.

And as Sara Turner was about to learn, you didn’t step into the ring with a Valenti without expecting a knockout punch.

As Alatza made a swift exit from the room, Nik yanked the worn file from his desk and flipped it open. He’d examined the photos inside every day for the last three months—motivation to keep him going whenever his better nature threatened to take hold.

He wasn’t the kind of guy to fall in love or buy in to happily ever after. He’d seen too much to believe that anything other than greed and lust drew people together. But he did expect loyalty from those he let into his life.

His gaze caught on the top snapshot. Sara, with that sexy smile he’d thought was only for him.

He really should have known. She’d checked off every too-good-to-be-true craving in his book. Wide, blue eyes and long lashes that slanted just enough to make him think of rumpled sheets and late nights. A quick mind that challenged, provoked, and intrigued. And, of course, that reserve, wrapped tight around her like a second skin. All designed to keep him coming back for more.

Too perfect. She’d been every danger sign, every red flag, every beacon warning of treacherous waters ahead. Horny, arrogant son of a bitch that he was, he’d ignored them all.

But his eyes were wide open now.

He stared down at the photo, making sure to take in every detail. How her beautiful face tilted slightly to the side while she laughed. How her hair, half gold, half sunshine, curled down her back in hot-as-hell waves, as if she’d just rolled out of bed. How another man’s hand curved possessively against her spine.

He crumpled the picture in his fist.

Delivering his own brand of justice was going to be sweet, indeed.

Chapter Two

Sara stopped short in the doorway. She stared at the gleaming silver manacle locking her brother’s wrist to the hospital bed and tried not to flinch.

Go away. Jake slurred the words through a puffy lip. His handsome face was pinched tight, his wide shoulders crammed between the bedrails. His hair, so similar in color to hers, was matted and dirty. Scrapes covered the whole left cheek; one eye was swollen shut, and the other was so bloodshot the usual bright cornflower blue was obscured.

She’d seen him roughed up before, but never like this. At least you’re okay.

I don’t need a lecture.

And I don’t need the attitude. With a quick, embarrassed glance at the security guard, she hitched her purse higher on her shoulder and shut the door. She might have been born and raised in the Midwest, but she’d learned a little something about bluster since moving to New York. I’m here to help.

I don’t want to talk about it.

Which would usually be fine. She and Jake had stopped sharing their highs and lows a long time ago. But this time you have no choice. The guard says people reported seeing six guys beating you up in that alley. I thought you saved that stuff for inside the ring.

Her joke fell flat.

I told you, I don’t want to talk.

You’ve already been arrested twice this month. Are you going for some kind of screw-up trifecta?

Maybe. He didn’t even blink. Afraid of people finding out how screwed-up your blood really is?

Yes, she snapped. Then, at his smug look, wished she hadn’t taken the bait. Her brother knew how to twist the knife. I thought you were too smart to end up like Mom and Dad. She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice.

Guilt flared in Jake’s gaze, but it was gone in the next instant. Worry about yourself. I’m fine.

Fine? Her family’s favorite word for exactly the opposite. You promised you were done with this destructive crap.

I know things look bad, but trust me. It will all work out.

Trust him? I’d rather you explain exactly what’s going on.

His expression closed down. This thing with those guys is no big deal. I had a great tip on an upcoming match, but it didn’t pan out so they roughed me up a bit. I just need to borrow enough to pay them back…and a little for the mortgage company. He toyed with a loose thread on the hospital blanket. I don’t want to worry you, but they’ve been leaving us some overdue notices.

Her stomach sank.

She’d used her postage-stamp apartment as collateral for Jake’s last loan. Stupid, maybe, but she’d hoped that with someone to believe in him, her brother would turn things around.

Classic enabler behavior. She’d read a million articles on it. Unfortunately, that didn’t make it any easier to turn her back on the little brother who’d made her Cheerios for dinner when she had the flu.

It would only be a short term loan, he pushed. I’m good for it, I swear. I’ll be back in the black in no time.

The hairs at the nape of her neck prickled. How will you suddenly have money?

Stop being so suspicious.

Stop being so vague. As an accountant specializing in audits she could smell deceit a mile away. I can’t fix this if you don’t tell me the truth.

You can’t fix it. Not now, anyway. If you wanted to help, you should have met up with Luke Volmer last week like I asked.

She sat up straighter. What does that man have to do with this?

Nothing. His gaze shifted away. Forget it. He rubbed at his chest. My rib is really bothering me. You think I can get medicine for the pain?

No. A sixth sense warned her to persist. What does my not dating your friend have to do with any of this?

Jake jackknifed up in the bed. Just leave it alone. I didn’t ask you to come here in the first place.

She stumbled back, hurt sliding through her. Fine. I’m gone.

No, wait. He clutched her arm. I’m sorry. I’m just stressed about this loan. He gave her a quick squeeze, his tough guy version of a hug. You’re my big sister. I’d do the same for you.

Would you? She wasn’t sure, but she did know that without her, Jake would be alone. Alone except for the thugs, cheats, and bullies who would hurt him even worse than he was now. And without him…well, she’d have no one, either.

The debacle with Nik Valenti had driven that home loud and clear.

Still, after this morning, she was more certain than ever that she’d made the right choice. They’d had Titanic written all over their relationship from the start. She’d been smart to cut and run before disaster struck.

She blew out a slow breath. Okay, but this is it, Jake. The last bail out. She hurried on before he could speak. You have to swear you’ll go see that counselor again for your drinking or…or check yourself into one of the free clinics. I know they’re not the best, but at least it’s something. She’d love to send him to one of those fancy places where the floorboards weren’t stained with sweat and blood and the walls didn’t stink of urine and fear and hopelessness, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

I will, he agreed easily. I knew I could count on you. I’ll go see my counselor next week. Help me with this money business, and I swear it will be the last time.

The optimism. The promises. It was all so familiar.

She’d heard the same from her parents. She’d been their handy courier from the liquor store, their convenient maid to clean up vomit, their ready bank machine. But once the crisis passed—see ya. They were back to their lives so fast her head would spin.

She was darn well going to do things differently with her little brother.

I’ll get you some coffee from the cafeteria. Nobody’s fool, she took her wallet and credit cards with her as she strode toward the door. Jake would need to sober up before she could find out what she needed to know. We’ll talk when I return.

Everything would be fine. Completely fine. She couldn’t allow it to be any other way.

Chapter Three

Ms. Turner?

Holding Jake’s hot coffee steady, Sara pasted on a smile and turned toward the earnest young doctor striding toward her, the same friendly doctor who’d shown her to Jake’s room.

Doctor Jonas, hello again. She held up the Styrofoam coffee cup, as effective a shield as she could muster. I’m just on the way to deliver this to my brother.

Of course. A flush of red bloomed across his cheeks, his Brooklyn accent thickening. I only wanted to say that even though I’m not your brother’s main doctor, I’m happy to help. He thrust his hand forward, a small piece of paper clutched in his fingers. Here’s my number. I…

He trailed off, his attention caught by the appearance of two oversize men with necks as thick as tree trunks striding in the direction of Jake’s room.

Her skin prickled. They didn’t look like police. In fact, with those dark suits and earpieces they reminded her of a time and a man best forgotten.

Take it, please. The doctor’s plea jerked Sara from her thoughts. I’d love to take you out to dinner. Answer any questions you have.

That’s very nice, but—

She won’t be calling. A new voice—deep, hard, tinged with a European edge, and oh-so-familiar—cut into the conversation.

Sara spun round, barely registering the splash of hot coffee on her skin. All noise receded, her mind spinning into vertigo while the ground shifted beneath her feet.

Nik Valenti’s golden gaze was locked on her. Tell the good doctor to take his number and go.

The doctor? A number? Nik was talking, but she couldn’t make sense of his words. Couldn’t make sense of the fact that he loomed over her in his tailor-made charcoal gray Italian suit and red silk tie, a Greek god, as beautiful as ever.

Against her better judgment, her hungry gaze catalogued everything. The tousled, short black hair. The hooded amber eyes. The chiseled jaw. The wide-shouldered, long-legged body of carved granite. For an instant, it was as if the last three months had never happened. As if her brother had never screwed up. As if Nik’s interest had never cooled. As if she’d never dumped him before he did the same to her.

But all those things had happened.

The reminder was a welcome splash of ice water to the libido.

What are you doing here, Nik?

"What are you doing here, Sara?"

Her heartbeat ratcheted up another notch. The last thing she wanted was for Nik to know anything about her family doings.

A personal affair. Plastering on a small smile, she tried for cool indifference. That was how one handled a run-in with an ex, right? Sorry I don’t have time to talk.

First priority was removing herself. In all her awkward surprise reunion fantasies—and she’d had plenty—Nik had looked haggard and remorseful while she’d always looked her best. She certainly hadn’t imagined being in a wrinkled ivory work blouse and gray pencil skirt, her hair and face a mess after a frantic dash to the hospital, her brother chained to an infirmary bed.

Nik stepped in front of her. Make time. We have things to discuss.

Stunned, she could only stare as he waved over one of the men with earpieces and handed off her coffee cup. No wonder the men with the tree trunk necks had looked so familiar. They were Nik’s bodyguards. They’d been a constant presence the few short months she and Nik had been dating.

Thankfully, by the time he turned back, she’d found her voice.

You want to discuss things now? A half laugh, half sob sprung from her and she hated it. Hated anything that might suggest she wasn’t totally over what had happened. Well, I’m sorry, but now’s not good. Actually, there’s probably never going to be a good time for a postmortem on our relationship. Let’s just be happy we got out when we did.

He crowded close, not stopping until his wide chest hit her hands. We’re far from done.

She almost gasped out loud. He’d been the one to pull back, his calls dwindling to next to nothing, his voice chilly when they spoke at all. It had been more than obvious his interest was waning. She’d simply put them both out of their misery by calling it quits. So why was he acting as if he’d been wronged?

And not that she’d been cyberstalking or anything, but just yesterday she’d seen a picture of him at some political event with yet another leggy, blond model.

Except now…now he was looking at her with not only resentment, but that same raw lust that had always made her a little reckless and a lot stupid.

She dropped her hands to her sides before the urge to curl her palms into his chest grew too great to ignore.

I…I think Ms. Turner said she was b–busy, sputtered the doctor, his face blanching as Nik’s predatory gaze swung toward him.

Poor guy. She’d forgotten he was there.

And I think it’s time you find somewhere else to be, Nik told the doctor. This woman’s not for you.

Unbelievable! She struggled for calm. You have waded past appropriate ex-dating protocol and cannonballed straight into the deep end of unacceptable.

Good. Nik’s voice dropped to a low, mocking rumble. Did I get you wet?

Mr. Valenti, boomed a voice from down the hall, saving her from a speechlessness she’d have hated Nik to witness. To think she’d once liked his dirty