Page 37 of Battle with a Billionaire

A scoff sounded on the other end of the line. “Can you ever just admit what you are? Probably not. I don’t know why I even bother. Nor Julia. Why she wastes her time believing in you is beyond me. She deserves so much better than you. I just hope she wakes up soon and realizes that before you drown her in your cesspool of toxicity.”

Grant screwed up his face at the hostility spewing. They’d been barely on speaking terms after he’d kissed Julia, but they had spoken at the police station. But suddenly, Kyle was back to being bitter. What had happened?

“Kyle, I have no idea–”

“Save it for someone who cares. I hope you finally get what’s coming to you.” The line clicked.

Grant stared down at the phone as it dimmed. What brought that on? Was Kyle plotting with the enemy camp to ensure he’d lose the election? He considered calling him back to try to get more information but decided against it.

The man’s cryptic threats would tell him nothing, and he may even make things worse.

Instead, he tossed the phone down with a sigh. He’d probably already made things worse. And at least Kyle had seemed to be alone. He was certain if Julia had been with him, he’d have boasted about it.

The slamming of the front door drew him from his thoughts. He leaned back in his chair as he tried to spot the entrant. “Juls, is that you?”

“Yep,” she answered. Something about the way she said it made him uncomfortable. Her voice was tired and clipped.

He was about to climb from his seat when her footsteps came toward him. He leaned back in his chair as her figure appeared at the door. From the expression on her face, he inferred something had happened. Was it Kyle again? “Hey, bad day?”

“You could say that,” she answered.

Not even a glimmer of any of the lightheartedness she normally carried with her, no teasing tone, not even just the exhausted voice that needed a confidence boost. Something was off. The quiet office, usually a sanctuary, now seemed charged with tension.

“We have a big problem.”

The words stopped his heart. His mind stretched, running through scenarios that would upset her this much. Had Kyle come on too strong again? Or had something happened at Harrington Global?

She stalked forward and tugged an envelope from under her arm, tossing it toward him. It slapped across the desk, making him jump. “Tell me those aren’t real.”

His unease grew from the way she hovered over his desk, her face set. He grabbed the envelope and slid the contents from the inside. His brow furrowed, and his heart thudded as he stared at compromising image after compromising image of him with a woman he’d never met.

He snapped his gaze up to her. “Where did you get these?”

The slight tremble in her voice betrayed an inner turmoil. The shock of this scandal was evident, raising an alarm in his mind about its impact on her. “Does that matter? Are they real?”

“No, of course not,” Grant snapped, his voice coming out angrier than he hoped, but the accusation, particularly from Julia, stung him. How could she believe he’d do this to her?

Her shoulders slumped slightly as she studied him. “Grant, I’m not a bitter wife. I’m asking so we know how to deal with this.”

Those words wounded him even more. He wasn’t lying to try to evade her anger, though the fact that she claimed to have none upset him even more.

“This is not me.” He shook his head. “Okay, it’s me. But not…it’s. No. I’m not having an affair with this woman. I’ve never even met her. Julia, where did you get these?”

She finally collapsed into the chair behind her. “A courier delivered them before I left the office.”

He grabbed the note. “Thought you might like to see these? Who would do this?” His fingers tightened on the note as he shook his head. “Kyle.”

“No,” Julia said with a shake of her head.

“Yes,” he growled. “I just talked to him, and he more or less told me.”

“He told me he had nothing to do with it.”

A chill snaked down his spine at her words. “You asked Kyle about this?”

“He was there when I got them.”

Grant scoffed as he flicked his gaze to the growing darkness outside the window. “Of course, he was. Admiring his handiwork, no doubt. Was he the courier?”

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