Page 11 of Billionaire Book Boyfriend

I rub my temples, trying not to laugh at his jab. “Yeah, yeah, I hear you, man. You left her unattended, and I was just doing what was good for the community, trying to take care of a good woman. But she ended up with you, and that’s what matters, right?”

He chuckles, “You’re right. Just saying, don’t let history repeat itself. You either want this or you don’t. Stop standing on the sidelines. You either fight for it or let it go. And trust me, you let it go, you’re gonna regret it.”

The line goes quiet for a beat, and I know he’s right. Emily isn’t just some girl I’m messing with. She’s different. That connection we’ve got, it’s deeper than just words on a page. It started with the book, but it’s way more than that. I feel it every time I look at her. She’s got this fire in her that burns every part of me, and if I don’t go after it, I’ll be making a huge mistake. Terrance’s advice is solid, so I will take heed.

“Alright,” I say, my voice firm. “I’m going for it.”

“Good. Don’t half-ass it, either. You want her? Show her.”

We talk for a few more minutes before hanging up, and I’m left sitting there, feeling more certain than I have in days. Theirony of getting a call from Terrance, of all people, right at this pivotal moment isn’t lost on me. The guy whose wife I fell for, now giving me advice on not letting the best thing in my life slip away. It’s funny how life works sometimes. But I’m not running this time. I’m not letting fear or doubt get in the way. I want Emily, all of her. I want everything she’s got to give, and I’m ready to show her exactly what I’m about.

Standing up, I make my way to the bathroom, turning on the shower. This time, I’m not thinking about steamy sex scenes from the book. I’m thinking about her, about what I’m going to do when I see her again. I’m ready to create our own memories.

Chapter 7

Emily

It’s Been a Week

I sit at my desk, my fingers gliding over the keys, pouring my heart into every word I write. The room is dim, lit only by the soft glow of my laptop screen. The cursor blinks as I type the opening lines of the new chapter forFlirty Dirty Secrets: Part Two.But this time, it’s not just a story. It’s my life. It’s everything I feel for Drake.

"He was more than a distraction. He was the stunningly handsome business tycoon who turned into the storm that tore through everything she thought she knew about herself, leaving her vulnerable, exposed, and desperate for more."

I pause, staring at the words. My heart races, and all I can think about is Drake. How he’s made me feel alive, yet terrified, all at once. How he’s broken down the walls I’ve spent years building.My emotions are raw, intense, and they’re bleeding into every sentence I write.

I let my fingers fly across the keyboard again, faster this time, like I’m trying to release everything that’s been building up inside me since the night my secret was exposed online for the world to see.

"He didn’t just push her boundaries; he obliterated them, forcing her to confront the truth she’d been avoiding for so long—that she was capable of love, of feeling deeply, of surrendering herself completely to someone who could shatter her in an instant."

The words feel different now, more raw, more vulnerable. The whole world knows my secret, but it’s not their judgment that stings. It’s the fear of losing the one person whose opinion actually matters. And that fear, that feeling of being laid bare for him to see, seeps into every sentence I type.

I lean back in my chair, running my hands through my hair as I exhale shakily. Am I writing about my character or myself? It doesn’t even matter anymore. The lines have blurred so badly that I can’t tell.

I think back to the moment Drake looked down at his phone screen and found out about my identity, how terrified I was of losing him right then and there. And now, here I am, alone in my apartment, unsure of where we stand. I haven’t heard from him since that night a week ago. He said he needed time. But how much longer?

I can still feel the pit in my stomach from that night. I’d been sitting at Drake’s dining room table, waiting for him to returnwith some kind of surprise. Everything had felt perfect until my phone buzzed with notifications from my social media and blog.

I stared at the screen, frozen. My secret, the one I’d kept hidden for years, was out. The world knew who I was. I could barely breathe as I refreshed my social media feeds, seeing comments flood in from fans and strangers alike, all reacting to the expose piece in the USA Tomorrow. Worse, I knew Drake was just seconds away from finding out.

When he came back into the room, his phone buzzed, and I saw the way his expression shifted as he glanced at the screen. The warmth, the excitement, all drained away. I’d tried to explain, but it was too late. He’d told me he needed space, and now I was left waiting, feeling more exposed than ever.

The next morning, my parents called me back-to-back, expressing their concern and shock. Then at ten, I walked into the meeting with Rachel and Linda, knowing the storm was in full swing. Rachel was already scrolling through her phone, and Linda looked up with that all-business expression she wore in a crisis.

“We need to control the narrative,” Rachel said before I’d even sat down. “The USA Tomorrow article is going viral. We need to make it look like you were planning to reveal your identity all along. This can’t look like it was a mistake.”

I took a deep breath. “How did this even get out? I thought everything was secure.”

Linda leaned forward, her tone calm but decisive. “We’ve confirmed that someone hacked into your email. We traced itback to an IP address that’s been flagged for targeting high-profile authors and public figures. They managed to dig deep enough to connect you to Eva Steele.”

I slumped in my chair, running my hands through my hair. “So, this wasn’t some random leak. Someone really went after me?”

Rachel nodded firmly. “Yes, and we’ve already reported it. The authorities are handling the investigation, but right now, the damage is done. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing. The best move we have now is to control the narrative.”

Linda added, “We’re not leaving this to chance. We’re going to position this as a strategic reveal from you. Your readers will feel closer to you, and we’ll make sure the spin works in your favor.”

The weight in my chest had lifted, knowing there was a plan in place. At least, I had answers, and we were moving forward.

But that was a week ago. Now, all I could think about was Drake. How everything felt like it was unraveling. I had heard from every family member I had, close and distant. But he hadn’t called, hadn’t reached out. I was spinning, and I couldn’t stop the spiral.

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