Page 55 of The Billionaire Babe

“He used to…” she says quietly. “But not anymore.” Her lips meet my bare chest, and she kisses me there before laying her head down again. Warmth floods my veins.

“Why is there a car out in front of my apartment?” I ask her, knowing she knows who it is.

“It is my father's security team. He has been following me. He has photos of you and me after Chloe's showing, so he now knows where you live. I have no idea what he is doing other than trying to find something about me he can exploit,” she answers honestly, and I appreciate it.

“After your fight with your father today, you came running to me?” I want to know more.

“Yes.” Her voice quivers.

“Why?” I ask. I am glad she did, but I am keen to get her thoughts on what it is we are doing.

“Because you always make me feel safe,” she admits, and my chest aches for her.

“Bet you that he doesn’t like that you’re here with me,” I murmur, forcing my head back onto the pillow so I don’t do something stupid like kiss the top of her head and bury my face in her soft hair. That is what a loving couple would do. That’s not me. That’s not us. It could be. The thought pops in my brain, and I shake it away quickly.

“He doesn’t like anything I am doing lately. Especially the moves I am making in the business.”

“Tell me about the business?”

“My grandmother started it over sixty years ago. She was a young bride. My grandfather was a factory worker and worked twelve hours a day and my grandmother, Rose, well, she wanted something to fill in the hours while he was gone. She was not content to sit around and play housewife. She was stubborn and focused,” she says, and I huff a laugh.

“Sounds familiar,” I say and feel her smile against my skin.

“Anyway, she was a good sewer. Made all sorts of things, and her friends and neighbors started to watch her and want tips. Soon, she was offering classes at the local community center and getting paid for it.” Her body relaxes against mine, but I remain quiet, listening to the story.

“Long story short, she saved her money and started investing in businesses. First, she invested in a small butcher shop. My grandfather left factory work and managed that. Then between the revenue from the sewing classes and the butcher shop, she purchased a small haberdashery store. From there, it grew and grew. She was buying and selling businesses all over the state. Van Cleef Corp was born. We now own and invest in a wide variety of businesses, hotels, software companies, you name it.”

“Sounds like she was an amazing woman,” I murmur.

“My mother was an only child and stepped right into the business after getting a business degree. My grandfather died not long after, and I never met him. But between the two women, they took on more and more and grew and grew.” Her fingers draw small patterns on my chest as she continues.

“And your mother now?” I ask. She talks about her father a lot but never her mother.

“My mother and grandmother passed away over ten years ago. They were flying home from a meeting in New York. The small aircraft they were on had complications. They hit the ground just outside of Quakertown.”

“Jesus…” Her past is sounding just as colorful as my own, albeit still more financially secure.

“A week after their funeral, I was shipped off to boarding school, then college, and barely came home. When I did, my father was different. He met Abigail and married her within twelve months of the accident. I am an only child. For a long time, I did everything he told me to because he was all I had left. I didn’t want to lose him too. So, I wore what he told me, dated who he told me, studied what he told me. If I questioned it, he would get angry, so it was easier back then to do what he asked. I wanted his approval more than anything. But now… he is money hungry and unethical and is ruining my mother’s and grandmother's legacy,” she says, and I run my fingers up and down her skin, feeling her shoulders tighten. She is angry, and that is good, because from what I am understanding of the situation, she is in for a hell of a fight.

“Your father sounds like a real peach,” I comment sarcastically, fascinated by how the world sees her, pretty, perfect, rich, and yet her life is not that dissimilar to mine in terms of the lack of love, security, and trust that you need as a kid that was never provided. I like that I get to see this side of her. The side that no one really knows.

“I am challenging him for the CEO position of Van Cleef Corp,” she says, and my eyebrows rise. Holy fuck.

“Good, sounds like he needs to go,” I say simply, and her head leaves my chest to look up at me, wide-eyed.

“Good?” she asks, and I frown.

“You're a fucking lawyer. You're smart, you know your stuff. You got this. You will succeed, I’m sure.” I believe in her. I might not know anything about her business, but I know she’s capable. Her expression softens before she leans back down on me again.

“It’s not about the money. I don’t care about that. It is the Van Cleef legacy. The only place where I am connected to my mother and grandmother is in that business. I need to be CEO.”

“It is what you were born to do,” I say, getting it now. I understand the hard work and dedication she is putting in and will need to put in to win this thing. I don’t even know her father, and I already hate him. Hate him for putting his hands on her and for putting anything before his daughter. I never thought I would have kids, but if I ever did, they and their mother would always come first.

“I have half the board on my side. Things are looking positive. I am also doing a deal with the Rothschilds. Something my father would despise me for, I am sure.”

“Isn’t he president?” I ask, assuming they are the same people, not believing that this naked woman beside me is friends with the fucking president of this country.

“Yep, nice guy too, although I mainly deal with his brothers. They are one of the wealthiest families in America,” she says, like they are the guys she and her friends hang out with all the time. Fuck, maybe she does.

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