Page 48 of Blackmail of a Billionaire

“This,” Kyle said, standing from his seat and motioning toward the two of them. “This is not healthy and it’s not normal. Julia, step away from him.”

Grant screwed up his face before he glanced at Julia. She shook her head, stepping between them. “Dr. Carter, I’ve already told you that you have this all wrong.”

“Have what all wrong? Juls, what is going on here?”

Kyle shook his head. “Don’t answer that. You don’t owe him any explanations.”

Grant’s confusion hit an all-time high.

“Julia,” Kyle said, “step away from him.”

“What?” Grant barked.

“It’s okay, Julia. He can’t hurt you anymore. Just come toward me.”

“Hurt her?” Grant’s eyes went wide at the implication. “Okay, that’s enough. Julia, let’s go.” He wrapped his hand around her arm.

“Take your hands off her.”

“Kyle, I’ve told you that you’re wrong,” Julia insisted.

“I’ve seen enough battered women to know not to take your word for it. I won’t let this happen to you, Julia. You’re too vibrant a woman to be subjected to this. Take your hands off her.”

“I will not,” Grant said. “She’s my wife. And this conversation is over.”

He pulled her closer to him when the doctor reached for her. “I don’t think so.”

In one fluid motion, the doctor reached out, his hands firmly grasping Julia’s arm. He pulled her swiftly behind him, positioning himself as a barrier between her and Grant. With a swift pivot, he launched his fist forward, his aim striking Grant squarely on the jaw. The impact sent Grant reeling backward, his balance lost, crashing into a nearby unoccupied table that clattered loudly in the sudden chaos. Pain exploded in his jaw along with confusion.

As Grant steadied himself, the clamor of the restaurant fading into a distant echo, his mind raced. This unexpected eruption of violence was more than a minor clash. What would the fallout of this pivotal moment be for their already strained relationship?

CHAPTER 14

JULIA

Julia’s heart thudded against her ribs, drowning out the pounding of her heels against the ground as she stormed to her car. She ran a hand through her hair as she slid behind the wheel of the Porsche.

She fired the engine and stomped on the accelerator, sending the sporty car screaming forward. Turmoil roiled within her. Why had he had her followed? Was she constantly being watched?

And the threat of scandal notwithstanding, Grant’s first words asked who the man was. Why did it seem personal to him?

Memories of previous encounters flashed in her mind. After her concussion, he’d seemed so warm, yet now so cold.

She leaned her elbow against the cool surface of the door, her forehead resting against her palm as the city’s skyline approached. She’d done her best to keep her private affairs private. Sierra had been clear about her position. She was there to provide a service.

It hadn’t even occurred to her to tell anyone she was meeting with her brother-in-law. Had it been information anyone wanted?

Did she really need to provide an itinerary for every meeting she had? Had that been part of the deal?

The walls of her decisions closed in around her. She was a prisoner in a cell of her own making.

She heaved a sigh, the city’s chaos of traffic and people matching the turmoil in her mind. As she slowed to a stop at a red light, she sucked in deep breaths, turning up the fan on the ice-cold air conditioner.

She supposed they had a point. She’d been contracted to provide the image of the perfect wife. While a meeting with her brother-in-law hardly jeopardized that, they controlled her image. They’d paid for that right.

They owned her.

And she had agreed to it.

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