Page 5 of Billion Dollar Revenge

She’s not involved in this article—I am. But I don’t need him to clarify because I heard their conversation,Who would want her? She won’t find anyone better than me…which was nothing about work. He thinks I’m fucking stupid, and it only adds to my growing rage.

Those words remind me of my past and why I feel so unworthy of the good things that come my way. Is this the way my ex, Connie, spoke about me behind my back? Was I some fucking joke to her?

Was she laughing with the guy she was fucking behind my back, saying I won’t find any better?

“Her opinion on the image,” Bobby says, pulling me out of my past and back to the here and now.

My temple throbs as the headache slowly turns to a migraine. For fuck’s sake, I don’t need her approval to change the image. I’m the fucking CEO. What I say goes.

“You need to do what I asked you to do,” I say. Stepping so I’m standing so close to him, our shoes touch, and I breathe heavily into his face.

“I am, Mr. Lincoln,” he replies, his mouth trembling, as he takes another step back to give himself more space.

Lies.

I curl my lips in disgust. “You’re meant to be editing, not talking.”

Opening his mouth to respond, his eyes reflect anger as he shakes his head. But before he can speak, a throat clears, drawing my attention to Callum.

“Here, Mr. Lincoln, it’s done,” he says, briefly meeting my gaze before turning to his computer screen and gesturing for me to come and take a look.

“At least someone listens to me,” I grumble under my breath to Bobby, as I stride to Callum’s desk.

“I was working. I just needed to talk to Shyla,” Bobby adds, either trying to have the last word or to rile me up—I was unsure which he was going for. Either way, it nearly pushes me to the breaking point.

“She’s busy managing other articles. We don’t need her expertise for this Bobby.” My voice is loud, and everyone is silent; you could hear a pin drop.

Shyla looks at me with remorseful eyes. It’s not her fault Bobby can’t keep his dick in his pants. I need to get rid of thisasshat. I just need to figure out how without him claiming unfair dismissal.

I force myself to concentrate on the task at hand so I can calm the fuck down, leaning over to see Callum’s work. As I take in the new image and what he’s been able to accomplish, the tightness in my shoulders melts away.

I slap the desk with a sharp thud. “Yes. This is better. Email this to me immediately. This is going to print now.”

“Yes, Mr. Lincoln,” Callum replies with a satisfied smile.

I step away from Callum, walk toward the elevators, noting that Bobby is back at his desk, doing God knows what. But right now I don’t care. I have a breaking story to get out.

In the elevator, I run through my issues with Bobby, wondering if I have enough to fire him. There’s something in my gut that says I need to do it before something big happens. I always find him “talking” to different women in the office. None of the women have filed a complaint against him. Does this mean he’s not bothering them? It’s probably just me. But my gut has never been wrong.

The elevator doors open to my office floor. My space. At this hour, it will be beautiful watching the sunrise as this news breaks. I love uncovering the liars and cheaters of the world. Here is another example of it. This story is a two-sided scandal. Not only is the princess cheating with her bodyguard, but so is her soon-to-be husband, who is cheating on her with her cousin.

Most relationships are built on lies. This just validates my choice to never be in a relationship again.

My desk phone rings, and I answer it.

“Gabby?”

“Mr. Lincoln, Aria is on the line.”

Glancing at my watch, surprised my commercial real estate agent is working at this hour, I take a steeling breath and respond, “Thanks. Put her through.”

“Hello, Mr. Lincoln,” Aria drawls, her sickly-sweet tone causing a muscle in my jaw to tick. “I wanted to give you an update on the property.”

“Hmm,” I grunt, surveying the small room that will soon be my old office. I don’t know how my dad managed to work here for so long. It’s cramped, barely fitting a desk and some storage. I’m planning to add an oval table for meetings and create a home-away-from-home vibe, complete with a bathroom, bookshelves, gym, and even a kitchen. But this small office will be Shyla’s. She needs her own space to work without distractions, especially now that I’m relying on her more and giving her additional responsibilities, like overseeing and approving articles. I need more time to focus on operations, finances, and overall business development.

“It’s ready for a tour. Can you meet me on Thursday?”

If it wasn’t out of her job description, I’d send Gabby just to avoid Aria. But I can’t, so I need to suck it up and hope she can stop batting her eyelashes and keep her hands to herself just this one time. I’m not interested in anything other than finding the right spot for my new office.

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