Page 12 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire

“Who did he do it with?” She turned to face me and put her hands on her waist. “I should at least punch her.”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” she hissed.

“No, it doesn’t. He’s history and so is she.”

Silence followed, stretching like a rubber band. I didn’t want to ruin their friendship.

I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

Billie met my gaze and somehow I knew… I just fucking knew she already had the answer.

“It’s Desiré, isn’t it?”

“Come on, Billie.” I sighed heavily. “The night is too nice to ruin it with all this crap.”

“She’s a friend,” she said, her voice rumbling. “You’re my sister. No comparison.” Her eyes darted to Desiré, narrowing to slits. “I’m going to beat her ass.”

Before I could say anything, Billie marched to her best friend with indignation and raised her hand. My ears buzzed and my eyes widened. Jesus, she wouldn’t hit her. Would she? Just as I opened my mouth, Billie yanked a bracelet off Desiré’s wrist.

A round of gasps tore around the table, but she didn’t pay attention to anyone and kept her glare on her best friend.

“Skank,” she shouted. “How dare you! Backstabbing bitch. I hope Pierre gave you herpes.”

I winced. That was going a bit too far, but I wouldn’t reprimand my own sister. After all, she was doing it for me.

My chest warmed. I loved Billie because no matter what, shealwayshad my back. She whirled around—like a queen with an entourage—and came back to me.

“I love you.” I pulled her into a hug. “That was a bit harsh,” I whispered in her ear.

“Nobody fucks with my sister,” she muttered. “Should I have said gonorrhea?”

A strangled laugh escaped me. “No, herpes was probably better.” I squeezed her harder, taking a deep breath. I didn’t expect her to take my side so passionately, although I should have known. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

She grinned. “Want me to go back and punch her?”

I shook my head. “Please don’t,” I said, smiling. “I promise, I’m fine. So no punching anyone and let’s forget Desiré and Pierre.”

She shifted slightly and met my gaze. “Only if you get back at those two assholes.”

A laugh vibrated in my chest. Leave it to my sister to think of revenge at a time like this. I wasn't a doormat in a relationship, but I wasn’t revenge thirsty like Billie either. I’d witnessed my sister make her ex-boyfriends regret leaving her by spraying her perfume on their pillows so they’d miss her. And sure as shit, they came crawling back. Of course, she never took them back. Rightfully so.

“Sure. I’m sure it’ll be easy enough to find two hot men available for a night of sex. I’ll show Pierre what he missed out on,” I mused, unable to hide a self-satisfied grin.

It would definitely be a win for me, not to mention double the pleasure with two men. Pierre, that selfish bastard, had just wanted to watch two women making out.

Her eyes traveled around the terrace until she looked over my shoulder. Her eyes widened and her mouth parted.

“Oh my panties,” she murmured, her cheeks turning crimson.

Curious to see what had her so flustered, I followed her gaze and froze. Three gorgeous men sitting at the VIP table—one of them I’d already met. What were the odds of running intohimagain?

“Hello again, Odette.”

I blinked as the voice rumbled, sending a shiver down my bare back.

Byron Ashford stared back at me, greeting me with a smile and those gorgeous blue eyes. He leaned back in his chair. His white shirt clung to his stomach from the humidity, highlighting his enticing abs. My eyes lingered on them for a second too long.