Page 24 of The Billionaire's Most Unexpected Triplets

“I just think that the name is perfect the way it is. It’s catchy. Simple. Easy to remember.”

I sigh. Good God.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that,” Leah says, a defensive edge in her voice.

I lean forward. “Do you, though? The beauty of the internet is that something can be proven or disproven within minutes. And so far, GourmetGlobal hasn’t been proving to do very well. It’s in the middle of the pack. We want it to be number one. We want it to be as big as any of the other behemoths—”

“I’ll admit,” she interrupts, “that GourmetGlobal hasn’t yet reached its full potential. But if we do a relaunch, we lose all the personality that drew people to it in the first place.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. It makes her breasts swell and I can’t help but stare at them.

When I realize that I’m staring, I jerk my gaze back up to her face, only to find her still looking at me.

Really looking at me. With determination written all over her face.

“This is the new direction,” I say. “And I think I know what I’m doing.”

There are a few chuckles around the table. This team, just like everyone else in the whole world, knows what I’m capable of. They don’t question me.

Unlike Leah.

“And what if I don’t like the new direction?” she asks.

I shrug. “Then we’ll just have to part ways, won’t we?”

Her chest rises with anger. I can tell that she wants to say more, but she bites her tongue.

“Good.” I smile. “Now, let’s get back to what I was saying.”

I finish the presentation, and everyone takes off to their desks, ready to grind away to meet our two-month deadline. Everyone except Leah.

She lingers at the doorway, watching me.

“What?” I ask.

She cocks her head to the side. “Why do you have to be such an asshole?”

I don’t know what she expects me to say. “I’m not an asshole. I’m a leader.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not what everyone says. The media. People who know you personally. Employees.”

Obviously, she’s been doing some heavy research — probably hoping to uncover something incriminating.

“And what do they say?” I ask.

“They say that you’re a tyrant. That you fire anyone who disagrees with you. That you’re…”

“That I’m what?”

She’s silent, her pupils dilating fast and her cheeks pink.

I let a moment pass. She’s clearly uncomfortable, and I take a weird, sadistic pleasure in it.

“I’m what?” I prompt.

“A bit of a dick.”

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