Cute Billionaire’s Club: The Billionaire's Club, #2

By Rachel Foster

Lily can't believe Nathan would kill someone and has ruined the image she had of him. But she still needs extra money so she might have to keep working for him. But how will she be able to do that and make sure he realizes she doesn't want him?

• Language: English
• Publisher: 3rd Publishing
• Release date: Mar 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215681244

Book preview

Cute Billionaire’s Club

Rachel Foster

Copyright © 2018 by Rachel Foster

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contents

Cute Billionaire’s Club

Cute Billionaire’s Club

1

L

ILY

I stood stunned, not sure what to do.

It felt like I was in the middle of a dream, the whole scene unreal.

He was dead. Davey Sharpe was dead.

I stepped closer to him. I moved slowly and carefully, as if he might jump to life at any moment. I wasn’t sure what I was doing, what I was hoping to find out. Maybe part of me held out that he might move or groan or let out some other sign of life.

But he didn’t. Davey Sharpe was still as a stone. And as I drew closer, I could make out the bruises on his face, the cuts and gashes. His mouth was open in a small O of surprise, as if the last thought in his mind before he’d died had been confusion at what was happening to him.

I kneeled and looked into his eyes. I’d seen the dead bodies of my parents before, but that was after they’d been cleaned up and made presentable by the mortician for their funerals. This, a body freshly killed, still wearing an expression of terror, was new to me.

His eyes were blank and glassy, not a trace of life in them.

I did something that surprised myself. I reached toward him slowly, placing my fingertips on his cheek. The skin was cold, rubbery and waxy – inhuman.

He was dead. I stood up, the reality of what was going on finally hitting me. I was in a room with a dead body. And more than that, Davey was dead because of me. No doubt he’d been killed in some kind of retributive effort from Nathan.

The door opened behind me, a set of heavy footfalls entering the room that I recognized right away as belonging to Nathan. He shut the door slowly, the sound causing me to take in a sharp gasp as I spun around on my heels to face him.

It was him. Nathan, well dressed and polished as ever, stood in front of the door, his hands clasped behind his back and a small, pleased smile on his face.

Do you like my gift?

W...what? I had no idea what to make of his comment.

My gift. He swept his hand toward the body behind me, as if there were any doubt what he was talking about. It’s for you.

You killed him. I was stating the obvious, sure. But I didn’t know what else to say.

Nathan nodded slowly. It was clear he was pleased with his deadly work.

"I did it for you. Lily, no one will lay a hand on you. Not while I’m around."

But...but you didn’t need to do this. You didn’t need to kill him.

Of course, I did. He seemed confused at my words. He hurt you, so I hurt him right back. Nathan explained himself as if he were describing a law of nature, a law he had no control over – like he’d dropped a stone and gravity had pulled it to the earth.

You didn’t have to do this, I repeated dumbly. This...

This is something you’re not used to. He finished the sentence for me. "You’re from a world that doesn’t know violence like this. But here, in my world, this is how things are done."

You’re saying that like you have no control over what happened.

"I did have control over what happened. I could’ve tortured him first, really taught him a lesson before I finished the prick off. Believe it or not, I exercised quite a bit of restraint in not doing so."

Am I supposed to be grateful or something?

"Relieved, maybe. A man who hurt you is no longer among the living. And I know his type." He emphasized the word type as if Davey were the most disgusting sort of person he could imagine. "He’s the type who thinks he can get away with whatever he wants with women. I bet you anything that you’re not the first he’s pulled that shit with. Hell, I’d bet you anything that you’re not the tenth."

I said nothing. Nathan delivered the words with total confidence, as if he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt.

When I found out he laid his hands on you in my own fucking club, I didn’t hesitate for a second. You don’t get to where I am by hesitating. Because of my actions, the world’s a safer place.

So charitable of you.

The slight grin returned to his mouth. "It’s not all charity, Lily. The girls I work for, they work for me because I can look after them, make sure that this sort of shit doesn’t happen. So, when word of what went down with Davey goes out, it’ll make my girls feel a hell of a lot better. It’ll send the message that no one fucks with my girls or my business or the woman I care about."

He stepped toward me, closing the distance down to mere inches.

"Because I care about you, Lily. I’m going to look after you, to make sure nothing happens to you. If I need to kill a million fuckers like Davey to guarantee it, I’ll do it without thinking twice."

He lifted his hand and placed his fingertips on my cheek. I shook at his touch, not sure what to say or do.

"You don’t need to worry about anything. I’ll have him disposed of like he never existed. The rest of his band will even end up loving me for this. Davey’s going to go out at the top of his game. But you’re the one I care about. This was all for you."

I backed away from him, Nathan’s fingers hanging in the air.

I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this.

I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I rushed out of the room, hurrying to the door and pulling it open. Once I was in the hallway I glanced over my shoulder, half expecting Nathan to be giving chase. But he didn’t. Instead, he stepped out of the room and smiled at me, as if knowing I’d be back.

But I didn’t have any such plans. I rushed out of the basement club, making my way to the top floor. In a wild blur of running I was soon outside, evening air cool and the city busting with life.

I had to think of something to do.

The cops. I spotted a pair of police officers on the corner, both chatting with some homeless person. My first instinct was to run over and tell them everything, that the man who owned Club Ecstasy was a killer, that the body of one of the most famous men in the world was downstairs, that all they needed to do was go and find it.

But I stopped myself before I made even made a step. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Nathan had the NYPD in his back pocket. Telling them would mean Nathan would know I tried to go to the police. That was a risk I couldn’t take.

Instead, I ran. I rushed down the street, waving for the first taxi I found.

Brooklyn, please!

The driver nodded and pulled into traffic.

My heart raced, the image of Davey’s face still burned into my mind, those dead eyes I knew would haunt me for the rest of my life.

2

N

ATHAN

I’d kept a cool façade when Lily had rejected my gift.

But deep down, I was fucking furious.

After she’d left, I’d gone straight back to the penthouse, rage boiling inside of me. I pictured her leaving, the fear on her face as she’d run out of my club.

Part of me worried she might tell someone, maybe the press. Sure, I had the NYPD in my back pocket, but that didn’t mean the city wasn’t full of those who wanted to see me brought down.

The moment I stepped out of my elevator and into my penthouse, I grabbed the nearest thing I could find -a glass sculpture- and pitched it across the living room. It landed with a crash, shards exploding on the floor and scattering every which way.

My heart thudded in my chest, anger boiling white hot in my veins.

I was a man who took pride in my self-control. The small outburst was allowed. But I wasn’t about to tear apart my entire apartment in some kind of petulant rage.

No. A man in my position didn’t have the luxury of indulging in my basest emotions, as tempting as it seemed. Instead, I stepped over to my bar and grabbed the most expensive bottle of scotch in my collection. I poured myself a stiff glass. Once it was in hand, I made my way over to the windows overlooking the city.

The view was spectacular, and always had a way of putting things into perspective. From my vantage point, the city was organized – a collection of moving parts that could be fixed and adjusted.

And Lily was a problem to be fixed.

I sipped my whiskey slowly, the sun setting and casting brilliant reflections on the scattered glass at my feet. I sighed, shaking my head at the pointlessness of my anger.

Rage had its place. But it could lead to mistakes, to foolish errors in judgement – like the sculpture now in a million pieces at my feet. There wasn’t a chance I’d let my cleaning staff bother with a mess that I’d created. So, I had to clean it up. Once the whiskey was done, I poured myself another glass before making my way over to the supply closet and removing my broom.

But I didn’t get a chance to sweep up so much as a single shard before the elevator sounded a chime. No one but George would’ve showed up without letting me know first.

Sure enough, when the doors opened he stepped out, a serious look on his face that meant business.

Something was wrong.

I nodded for him to enter and he came into the apartment, the doors shutting behind him. His eyes went right to the mess, but he didn’t say a word. George knew better than to ask questions about matters that weren’t his business.

We’ve got a problem, he said.

Worrying words to hear from George. His job was to handle problems, and he wouldn’t be coming to me unless the matter was something he couldn’t take care of on his own.

What is it? I went over to the bar and began preparing him a drink.

Your little rock star friend, he said, giving me a quick nod of thanks as he took the drink.

I assume you’ve taken care of the body already? Or were you waiting for me to give the go-ahead?

It’s not that, he said. The body’s still there.

What? You didn’t even have him removed from the room? Why not?

George glanced aside, as if trying to figure out where to begin.

You know who this guy is? Or, was?

He’s some prick rocker who thought he could get whatever he wanted. Anger returned to the surface as I thought once again about what he’d done to Lily. But I pushed it back down, focusing on the matter at hand.

Yeah, but that’s only half the story. The fucker...he’s rich.

Of course, he is – he’s one of the biggest names in music.

It’s not just that. He was rich before he even stepped in front of a mic.

I was getting impatient. Get to the point.

George took a sip then spoke. Davey Sharpe – also known as David Theodore Sharpe III, of the Sharpe shipping empire.

Wait – what?

The guy’s fucking loaded, and his family’s worth billions. Their fortune goes all the way back to the early twentieth century when they made their fortune shipping military gear over to the Russians before the US joined in World War II. And they’ve only gotten richer since.

Hold on a fucking second – didn’t Davey come from some hard-luck upbringing?

George scoffed. That’s all part of a backstory he paid good money for. I guess he figured that being daddy’s little rich boy wouldn’t help him get far in the rock and roll game. So, he paid some crack publicist team to invent this bullshit story about how he grew up getting passed around from orphanage to orphanage and all the rest of the BS.

It was beginning to dawn on me.

But the truth is that his family’s loaded...

And they’re going to want to know what happened to their boy.

Fuck. I hissed the word before taking a sip.

George didn’t need to explain it any further. I had billions to my name, and that was more than enough to make just about any problem go away with a swipe of my hand. But that all went out the window when it came to going up against someone else worth billions. They’d have money and resources to figure out what happened.

It could be a total disaster.

But whatever happened, we needed to figure out a plan and fast.

Alright, I said setting down my drink. First step is that you don’t do a damn thing from here on out. How many other members of the staff know what happened to Davey?

Just me and you. I sealed off the room and wiped the footage.

Hearing the words made me want to give George a raise on the spot. But there was still the matter of Lily. She knew the truth, and there was no guarantee that she’d keep her mouth shut.

But one problem at a time.

Good. Then you’re off the problem.

What? You don’t want me to do anything?

That’s right. We’re going to have to get outside help for this, and that means no one from our team can afford to know anything. From here on out, this is a matter I’ll take care of. All you need to do is make sure no one finds out what’s in that room.

He nodded, still appearing apprehensive about it all.

You sure you’ve got this? he asked.

Positive.

Who are you going to have help out with this job? Not many people in this city have the reach and power to take care of a job like this.

An old friend of mine. But you don’t need to work about it. Just get back to the club and make damn certain that no one finds out what’s in that room.

George nodded, then threw back the last bit of his drink.

You got it, boss. I’ll let you know if anything comes up.

It was the exact thing I wanted to hear. As George left, I considered how valuable he was, how competent, reliable men like him were worth their weight in gold. I’d compensate him handsomely for his work. But at that moment, I had other, more pressing matters to attend to.

I slipped my phone out of my pocket and pulled up the number of a man I never thought I’d speak to ever again.

Antonio Trapani.

Just the thought of speaking to him again was enough to make my stomach tighten with anger.

Antonio and I...we went back, all the way back to when I was still on my come-up. We’d been friends at one point, working together on more than a few jobs.

But friend was hardly the word I’d use to describe our relationship these days. We’d had a falling out and hadn’t spoken to one another in years. I needed his help, however. If there was one person who’d have the resources to cover up a crime like this, it was him.

So, I dialed the number. It rang, then rang again.

And then he answered.

As I live and fucking breathe, came the deep, confident voice on the other end. The kid himself.

Antonio, I said. I need your help.

There was silence.

Where are you? he asked.

New York.

Figures. I’m in London. Let’s meet and...catch up – for old time’s sake. I know you’re still the head of those fancy fucking clubs. How about we meet tomorrow night, nine PM, at your New York location. Drinks are on you.

Deal.

See you then, kid.

He hung up.

As I slipped my phone back into my pocket, I had a feeling I’d bitten off a hell of a lot more than even I could chew.

3

L

ILY

I was back in the room in the basement of the club.

But everything seemed...different. Different in a way I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I knew, however, that I was right where I needed to be.

I took one step, then another. With each bit of distance I gained, the sick feeling in my stomach grew and grew, my gut tightening and my blood running cold.

Right when I reached the center of the room, a clang sounded. I spun on my heels and saw, to my horror, that the door was gone.

What the hell was happening?

Hey, sexy!

I turned again, the voice calling out to me raspy and dry.

And when I saw who it was, I screamed.

Davey.

He was seated on the foot of the bed, his face bloody and battered. But he didn’t seem to be bothered by the state he was in. Davey flashed me that cocky smile of his, the look in his eyes making it clear he wanted me for more than just conversation.

I said nothing as I regarded him with horror.

What? he asked. "You worried about a few bruises here and there? I mean, shit – if you think that’s