Claimed by the Ultimate Billionaire

By Georgia Stockholm

The Billionaire’s BBW series concludes in a world shattering explosion of furious action, mind-blowing adventure, violent love and unspeakable lust.

Danielle finds Justin in his sanctuary deep in the Mohave desert, where a dangerous experiment is underway which could change the world forever. All of Justin’s secrets are laid bare as his tragic past is fully revealed to the ever more tightly-knit group of friends and lovers.

Julia and James consummate their relationship as the shattering revelation of Justin’s dangerous machinations threatens to tear them all apart.

As the clock ticks away to the cabal’s final attack Danielle and Justin find the time to connect and share each other more deeply than ever before in the fantastic luxuries of the vast underground complex.

Dannielle is driven to the brink of death, love and lust colliding as the forces massed against them swirl around the sanctuary, and the whole world trembles waiting to be remade...

By Justin Blake, the billionaire with a dozen faces, the man of the century and the woman that loves him...

To the ends of the earth, and beyond.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gulliver Noir
• Release date: Dec 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370480562

Georgia Stockholm

I was a tomboy until I was 12.I hated pink, anything girly. I refused to wear skirts and dresses, and I played exclusively with boys. The day I talked my mother into letting me get a crew cut was the happiest day of my young life. At puberty, though, something shifted inside. I still liked boys, but I knew I wasn’t one.As I grew, I fell in love with fashion, costume, things pretty, and things dangerous. I’m still more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt than heels and makeup, but there is a time and a place for everything.I’ve always loved to read. I devoured literary classics during the day, while at night, I curled up in my bed under the covers with a flash light devouring every genre imaginable, ending up bleary eyed and unable to focus in class. I was a crummy student.Writing has been my lifelong dream, and great good fortune has afforded me the opportunity to devote myself to it full time, at least for awhile. I really hope you enjoy my work as much as I enjoy writing it.

Book preview

1

Danielle

My eyes sprang open at the knock on the door. I reached out for Justin before I remembered he wasn’t physically there. We’d had phone sex. Video phone sex? Sexy Time? I didn’t know what to call it, because I’d never had it or even wanted it before. Justin, even reduced to a voice and a moving image on a screen, had left me spent and tingling and warmed to the core. I’d slept like a rock afterward for the first time in weeks.

James stuck his head in the door. My nudity registered in my sleep thickened mind and I jerked the sheets up to my chin.

James kept his eyes downcast. Meet me in the parking lot in ten. Grab some breakfast to go.

I rushed through a five-minute shower without getting my hair wet, put on fresh underwear from my backpack with yesterday’s jeans and a clean pullover top that didn’t make me look like a cocktail waitress or someone’s maiden aunt, which if you’re me, isn’t an easy find.

We were going to see Justin! What was I going to say to him?

What did I really know about the man? Nothing about his past, as I’d learned that his web bios, all of them, were complete bullshit.

I grabbed a cup of shitty press pot coffee and added a cloying squirt of hazelnut caramel creamer. I pocketed a granola bar before pushing out of the tiny lobby of the Blue Sparrow Motel. A monstrous black SUV idled nearby, James waiting placidly behind the wheel.

I slung my pack into the back seat and climbed into shotgun position.

I’ve been in touch with Justin, James said.

Really? How?

James rubbed his neck. He was tieless, sporting a perfectly tailored blazer and slacks which showed off his Olympian physique. Apparently your institute being firebombed automatically triggered business casual. Good to know.

You don’t need details, James said. But I need your phone.

Why?

For security. You may have been targeted. It’s why he’s letting you into the sanctuary.

"Letting me? He isn’t letting me do anything! I’m coming against his wishes!"

James shrugged and held out his hand. I produced my phone and watched as he stripped away the SIM card and the battery. He leaned over and removed a black box from the glove compartment, slid the phone in and snapped it closed. He tucked the SIM card and battery into the inner pocket of his blazer. We made the short trip to the interstate in silence.

As James was starting to engage the vehicle’s self-driving mode and call up his desktop computing environment in the fighter-pilot-style, heads-up display windshield, I cleared my throat for his attention.

You still owe me, I said. "I gave you Justin’s location. Now you tell me about his past. I need to know who Justin Blake actually is."

I can tell you how we met. James was quiet for a few moments. I don’t talk about that. What really happened. How we came to work together.

I’ll keep it to myself, I said.

He laughed. Oh, you’ll tell Julia! But I guess I owe you… something.

James had extracted me from the pile of rubble that had once been Justin’s cliff-face mansion. He really owed me nothing, but I wasn’t going to say that.

James pressed a button on the steering wheel making it retract as the GPS screen on the dash lit up. He folded his hands behind his head, leaning back in his seat.

We met in college.

2

Sixteen Years Earlier: James

I’m calling him Justin but that wasn’t his name then.

His first name doesn’t matter, but his surname was White, which gives you an idea of how he changed after his sister’s death. All of Justin’s new last names meant darkness or night. Not a goth thing. If his sister went down in history as Theodora White, Deep Green martyr and author of The End of the Anthropocene, he was Justin Black, the man who proved her wrong.

Justin loved his sister but not her politics. Yeah, you’re shocked about Theodora, I know that, but don’t interrupt me. This is hard enough as it is.

Justin’s face was different back then, almost ordinary, not ugly or handsome, except for the eyes, light gray, like brushed steel. His gaze made people uncomfortable, then as now.

I was pre-law in my third year at CIT, the Commonwealth Institute of Technology. I’d been dating his sister, the famous Theodora, Dora for short, for months but had never met her older brother.

They moved in very different circles. The fact that Dora’s occasional roommate Lise was Justin’s girlfriend hadn’t made scheduling our get-together any easier. The four of us were madly driven people.

Dora finally put her foot down.

She rapped on Justin’s door and we filed into his coveted single dorm room. I thought he’d lucked out in the housing lottery. I didn’t know anyone else with a single, other than a few special needs folks. Of course Justin’s room assignment wasn’t luck.

Justin had built a loft out of unfinished pine and tucked his weight bench and desk underneath. He didn’t take note of us as we squeezed onto his tiny tattered couch, the end unit of a sectional and the size of a cramped love seat. Everything in the room was orderly, folded t-shirts and khakis, towels. His laptop and tablet were both clean and new. The dorm room’s beige painted cinderblock walls were bare of posters.

Justin was doing curls with a blackened iron dumbbell, thick veins crawling like living things in his massive biceps. His eyes were focused in the middle distance as if his mind and body were doing different things, which in fact, they probably were.

Justin’s body was a work of art, perfectly proportioned, as heavily muscled as you can get without impairing mobility. I worked out, too, and had watched a few friends morph into action-figure parodies with overdeveloped torsos and skinny legs; bodybuilding could be like a reverse eating disorder for these guys—bigger was always better. They had trouble struggling into their shirts in the morning.

Dora snapped her fingers twice and laughed when Justin froze, the huge dumbbell hovering in space. He blinked at us and set down his weights.

Justin! Meet my boyfriend, James!

He looked over and nodded, his expression alert but unreadable. I held out my hand and he took it briefly. You’re dating my sister.

I nodded.

Exclusively?

I coughed. Those steel eyes fixed on me. He wasn’t joking.

Justin! Be appropriate, Dora said.

What are you going to do with your life? Justin asked seriously.

I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. "Are you asking me what’s my major?"

He cocked his head, considering. Dora handed him a towel and he took it and dried his face and torso and then slipped into a clean white t-shirt.

I’m planning on law school when I finish my bachelor’s. Might take me awhile to swing it financially… Anyway, I’m into intellectual property, patents, that kind of thing. Innovation, I said.

The law is ridiculous, Justin said matter-of-factly. It lacks rigor. It’s trivial, like… like a set of cookbooks that people keep changing arbitrarily.

I didn’t really disagree… but couldn’t let it go at that. I smiled at the insult. "The law is about people and how they interact to make a functional civilization. Human minds are the most complex things in the universe. Ultimately, the law is a tool for those who know how to use it."

Justin grinned. Good points. He seemed to enjoy people that argued with him. But you didn’t disagree with my thesis.

What are you studying? I asked.

STEM, he said.

Science, technology, engineering and math? I said. Can you be more specific?

All of them, Justin said. "With a focus on computer science and machine learning. I’m interested in everything. Well, everything real."

"Justin has two full scholarships," Dora said.

Justin arched an eyebrow at her and she nodded, as if to assure him that I was someone he could trust. In fact, I’d known about the scholarships for a few weeks now.

I use two identities, and have two scholarships, two triple majors.

When do you sleep? I asked.

I’m only need a few hours a night, Justin said. I’m wired a little differently.

Dora laughed. That’s putting it mildly.

Does anyone at the university know?

That I’m two people? No. Justin half smiled. The network security here is… minimal.

Funny. They’re supposedly great at the computer science thing here.

Justin shrugged. You know, I could use a good IP attorney.

What?

Dora spoke up. My big brother was royally screwed by a start-up. They made him sign something and then stole his code. Dora laughed. "I told him he needed help but he ignored me, as always. But Justin, we’re not here to network." She said it like a swear word. "I’m not introducing you so you can give James a job. We’re here because I love him. So you have to get to know him."

Justin nodded, taking this in.

The moment lengthened into an awkward silence. Dora was every bit as strange as Justin, but in different ways. The stress of their early lives, absent father and a mentally ill mother, had made them both strange and strong.

Something in Justin’s gaze changed, as if a veil had been lifted. The man revealed was no less intimidating than the placid mask he’d dropped.

I see, Justin said softly. Do you love her?

My heart was hammering in my chest. I wasn’t sure why. Yes. Yes, I do. This was a thing we’d said to each other in private, knowing it was too soon, but I’d been unable to stop myself.

And Dora always spoke her mind.

Excellent, Justin said. He took my hand again and held it this time, his grip tight without being painful. You know, if you hurt her, I’ll kill you, right? Not a metaphor. I’ll actually kill you. Is that sexist? He directed this question at Dora.

She laughed. Very, she said. Patriarchal bullshit, but you mean well. She took his hand and mine and then tugged them together in that three musketeers handclasp.

We’re going to be great friends, she said. There will be no killing allowed.

Sorry I’m late. Lise had appeared in the doorway. Her long blond hair was tied up in a sloppy bun from which two paintbrushes protruded. Her hands were covered in spatters of crimson and black, and a dark smudge ran down the side her right cheekbone to her aristocratic jawline. I loved Dora more than anything or anyone I’d ever known, but that didn’t blind me to the fact that Lise, her sometimes roommate, was freakishly attractive.

Lise shoved Justin back onto the weight bench, straddling him and cupping his face in both slender hands. Their kiss went on for an embarrassing length of time. Dora pulled a paintbrush from Lise’s bun and rapped her on top of her head.

Lise grunted but kept kissing.

You will not hump my brother in front of us, Lise.

Lise stopped and turned her head languidly. Don’t be a prude.

Justin laughed and wiped his face. "I don’t know how to make her behave. Hm. Is that sexist?"

Yes, chimed Lise and Dora simultaneously.

Lise had been around enough for me to get used to this kind of banter. But mostly, Lise lived in her senior studio in a big crumbling art building on campus, sleeping on a pallet on the concrete floor and subsisting on the occasional Styrofoam cup of ramen noodles.

So weird, Dora said, shaking her head at the two of them on the bench. You guys don’t make sense to me.

Lise was staring into Justin’s eyes like a dying woman gazing into a sunset. What’s not to get? He’s beautiful. He’s brilliant. He’s also great in—

"Shut up, Dora said. Bad enough we’re roommates. She shivered. The whole thing feels… incestuous."

Roommate isn’t a blood relationship, Justin said.

Sort of, Lise said, looking at Dora. Our cycles synced freshmen year.

Dora sighed. Please don’t talk about menstruation, Lise. And that syncing thing is a myth.

Yeah, except we did. And menstruation is perfectly natural, Lise said.

And it’s natural not to talk about it, too, Dora said.

Justin nodded. It’s a good topic to avoid. Unless you want to make people feel uncomfortable.

Lise laughed. Some people deserve to be uncomfortable.

On that note, Justin said, looking at me, do you share my sister’s politics?

I gave a tentative nod. Mostly.

I think she’s fundamentally wrong, Justin said.

I don’t do politics, Lise announced.

Of course you don’t, Dora sighed. "You do art. And my brother."

Not necessarily in that order, Lise said, leaning into Justin for another kiss.

3

Danielle

James was quiet now, the interior of the SUV