Page 107 of Billion Dollar Revenge

I briefly spoke to Shyla on the phone, and she confessed to me how she and Bobby were in a relationship. She got wrapped up in his games and thought with her heart and not her head. So when he pushed her to post the article he had written, she did it. She’s lost her job, but I plan on having a meeting with her to tell her.

How could that bastard do something so disrespectful and think there’d be no consequences? Does he remember who I am? I have the means to track him down and get him thrown in jail. This is one of the times I’m so fucking grateful to have money. Most people wouldn’t have the police?even with evidence?looking into these cases so quickly. It’s sad but true. The police are often overwhelmed with high case volumes and resource constraints.

The photo was not for anyone else to see. The rage bubbling inside me makes me want to gouge every guy’s eyes out and scream she’s mine, not theirs to look at, like some fucking idiot. I don’t know what came over me, but it was like an out-of-body experience. I’m not a violent man, but my mind was going savage.

Bobby illegally posted it. As soon as I find his whereabouts, I’ll alert the police. She shouldn’t let Bobby get away with it or he’ll never learn. He deserves to be punished for humiliating her. The pain in her voice during our last phone call broke me. Her raw and honest conversation about needing space made me proud of her for putting herself first. I just fucking miss her so incredibly much. I wonder if I could get past my fear of commitment. Because not having her in my life has been so hard, so much harder than my ex cheating on me.

My phone buzzes, and I stupidly think it’s her.

“She’s in Connecticut. Due back tomorrow,” Jeremy says nonchalantly. “I raise the bet to $35.”

My head lifts, and my eyes meet his.

She’s coming back.

“Right,” I reply and return to my cards.

When it’s my play, I end up tilting. I’m letting my emotions about Chelsea get the best of me. My usual control is slipping.

“Gabby, can you tell the officers to meet me in my office in an hour?” I say on the phone the next day.

“Yes, sir. And I’ll order some coffee and bagels.”

Her attention to detail is precisely why I need her. Feeding people isn’t my priority, but I need to make a good impression. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to get some food in me. I’ve barely been eating this week. My diet has only consisted of coffee and sleep deprivation. Every spare moment, I have been scouring everywhere for any evidence of Bobby. The need to stay busy consumes me.

“Could you go there and meet the delivery? I have to meet with Shyla quickly.”

“Sure.”

She doesn’t ask questions, which is another thing I appreciate about Gabby. She doesn’t try to pry into my social life, she just does her job and does it well.

I decide to add a big bonus in her paycheck this week. It’s almost Christmas, and she’s a single mom. She deserves it for dealing with my grumpy ass again.

I hang up and enter the elevator.

It’s been a few days since Bobby was fired and already the overall morale in the office has significantly improved.

So, as I ride the six floors up, I check my emails for potential replacements for Shyla and Bobby. I can’t afford to have a weak link on my team. What would it say about me? I’ve worked so hard for so long that I don’t want any more unreliable workers at The New York Press.

The doors open, and I walk to see her at her desk, typing a new article.

“Shyla.”

Her eyes lift, noticing me, and she pushes away from the table to face me. “Mr. Lincoln.”

“We need to talk.”

Her face falls, but I keep my expression neutral, not giving away where her position in the company stands right now.

She drops her gaze back to the computer and saves her work before closing it.

When she’s finished, she stands.

“Let’s go to the meeting room.” I stride to the empty room and hold the door open.

The frosted glass will stop any other staff from looking in.

“Take a seat.”

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