Page 22 of Suddenly Desired (APEX Billionaires’ Club #2)

BLAKE

Blake stared into the river, lost in the gently meandering water.

The sun shimmered on its surface like liquid fire as it was stirred by the breeze blowing upstream.

The trees rustled, the birds sang, and if he really tried, he could convince himself that he was back home, a kid again, ready to ride his bike down the hill with his friends.

His phone buzzed against his leg, reminding him he was an adult with responsibilities.

He ran a hand through his hair, waiting for the stomach-swooping hit of angry emails or messages from the board.

But when he unlocked the screen, he was relieved to see it was his friends blowing up the group chat again. He dropped a quick greeting.

Devlin: How’s life, Blake?

Blake : Business is a car crash. Life’s not much better.

Devlin : Someone tell me why Blake is brooding like the lead in a depressing indie film.

Nate : Life isn’t shit, mate. It’s actually looking pretty damn good. And I’ve met her.

Christian : Met who?

Devlin : Wait. YOU met her? Since when did you get involved?

Nate : Since Blake showed up at my place with her. She’s smart, funny and, let’s be real, way too good for him.

Ruairidh : I’m literally on the other side of the world, but I don’t even need context. He’s in deep.

Nate : Also, not to make it weird, but the lift in my building mysteriously stopped working when you guys left.

Nate : For twenty minutes.

Nate : With no mechanical fault noted.

Nate : Blake, just asking, is it safe to touch the buttons or will I be taking the stairs from now on?

Devlin : I’m dead.

Christian : Classic.

Devlin : Standard Fielding.

Christian : Someone take his phone before he self-sabotages.

Ruairidh : Probably too late.

Blake has left the chat.

Blake locked his phone and exhaled sharply, staring out at the water.

They weren’t wrong. But that didn’t mean they understood why he’d done it.

Wanting something didn’t mean you got to keep it.

Wanting something didn’t mean you wouldn’t end up wrecking it.

He didn’t want to think about what had happened in the lift.

The way Ellie had tasted on his lips and felt beneath his hands.

He heard voices and glanced over his shoulder to see a group of people walking up the path, talking excitedly about something.

He pulled his cap down, adjusted his glasses and watched the river until he was sure they were gone.

He’d been lucky so far — the taxi had carried him through a throng of reporters right to the main car park, and he’d made it to the river without being identified.

It wouldn’t be long before somebody worked out it was him, but he couldn’t quite face the thought of walking into the building yet.

Because somebody in there was his mortal enemy and they were going to destroy him.

Not just his reputation — though that was shredded enough — but everything he’d spent his life building.

His company. His people. His vision. Someone was behind the attacks, and he needed to figure out whether it actually was Michelle or someone else altogether before they finished him off completely.

He closed his eyes, blocking out everything around him. But, instead of darkness, there she was. Ellie. Her wide eyes, the curve of her lips as she’d parted them for him.

Oh man, that kiss.

Blake exhaled slowly, trying to hold on to that fleeting surge of hope she’d given him.

It had been the most unlikely moment for something like that to happen.

He’d been at his lowest, his world falling apart, and yet she’d managed to cut through the chaos with nothing more than her presence and those incredible lips.

I don’t know who sent you , he’d told her. And he still didn’t. It felt too serendipitous, like a cosmic force had thrown Ellie Mae Woodward into his path at the exact moment he’d needed her most.

Then why did you let her go, you idiot?

Blake rubbed his jaw, the tension coiled tight in his chest. He knew why.

Because the timing was all wrong. His head was a warzone, his life a disaster.

There was no room for anything else, no matter how much he wanted it — wanted her.

He had to save Heartbook. His friends were right about him, even if they did say it with the tact of a high-speed train.

Just then his phone buzzed in his hand. He ignored it at first, still lost in his own head, but when it wouldn’t stop, he sighed and glanced at the screen.

Devlin added Blake to the group chat.

Devlin : All right, all right. Maybe we went a bit hard.

Christian : A BIT?

Nate : What we meant to say is — you’re not alone in this, mate.

Ruairidh : Yeah. You’ve got us, whether you like it or not.

Devlin : And we won’t even say WE TOLD YOU SO when you sort this out.

Christian : Except we definitely will.

Blake : Appreciate it. Now piss off.

He smirked, shaking his head as he locked his phone. He turned his gaze back to the water, willing the peace of the river to seep into him. But it didn’t come. Not while the memory of Ellie’s touch still lingered on his skin, a quiet ache inside reminding him of what he’d walked away from.

Besides, outside of his tight circle of friends, he was now public enemy number one. Even if he managed to find out who had done this to him, and prove his innocence, he would always be tainted. The damage had been done. The internet was a harsh place, and people didn’t forgive easily.

And by pushing Ellie away, he had saved her from being tainted by association. She had something good in LifeWrite, brilliant even, and he was sure it would succeed. But not if she was seen with him.

Blake’s jaw tightened as he resolved to help her in the only way he could. He’d ask David to support her vision, to make sure her dreams took flight.

But as he turned away from the river to stop himself thinking about her, he knew it was because of more than that.

Ellie was extraordinary. She was kind and intelligent.

And beautiful. The only thing he had to offer was chaos.

She didn’t deserve to be dragged into his storm.

So he needed to walk away while he still could.

Gathering as much strength as he was able, he marched down the path towards the main building.

A few people were clustered outside, and they pointed at him, whispering to one another as he entered through the large doors.

The reception desk was still frantically fielding calls, oblivious to him, and the security guard did a double take before letting him through the barriers.

“Hey, Billy, is Michelle in?” Blake asked.

The guard nodded, jerking his thumb to the upper floors. “They all are,” he replied. “They called a meeting for this afternoon.”

Blake’s heart sank. He thanked the man and ran for the lifts.

The ride up to the tenth floor took an eternity and when the doors finally opened he was greeted with an eerie silence, a stark contrast to the turbulence below.

Most of the senior staff were likely on the fourth floor, putting out fires with the customer service team.

He stepped up to the boardroom and scanned the empty chairs. Good. It gave him a moment to regroup. But his reprieve was short-lived as he could hear voices drifting from the corner office, low but unmistakably heated.

Blake moved closer, his own footsteps muffled by the thick carpet, straining to catch the conversation.

“. . . can’t do this,” came David’s voice, urgent and strained. “We have to at least let him know. He deserves to be here to fight his corner.”

“He had his chance and he blew it,” said Michelle in the haughty sneer that Blake had come to hate. “Agnes has made her decision. We’re not here to babysit. The company is bleeding and it’s on him. He committed a grave offence, a stupid one, and now he has to pay. He’s a liability.”

Blake clenched his fists. His pulse pounded in his ears, but he wouldn’t give Michelle the satisfaction of seeing him rattled. He pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Michelle leaned back in her oversized leather chair, her eyes cold. David was standing in front of her, both hands planted on the desk, his expression desperate.

“Thank God,” David said, crossing the room in two strides and pulling Blake into a fierce hug, patting his back like a coach rallying a player. “You’re here.”

Blake stepped back, shaking his head. “What’s going on? Why has Agnes called a meeting?”

“Why do you think?” Michelle said in a tone as sharp as her features, her arms folded as she leaned forward.

“Shares are down another twelve percent, and over a hundred thousand users jumped ship after that little spectacle last night. You’re a sinking ship, Blake, and you’re taking us down with you. ”

He didn’t flinch. Instead, he levelled his gaze at her, his voice edged with steel. “And your solution is what? To throw me overboard and hope the sharks get bored?”

Michelle just smirked, her own eyes as dark as a shark’s.

“Well, what about the hack? Any news on that?” he asked, and she laughed.

“There was no hack,” she said. “You’re not fooling anyone with that. You’re a sexist pig, Blake. Just accept it. Stop pretending otherwise and take the punishment like the big man you proclaim to be.”

Blake looked at David, who shrugged. “Nothing,” he said.

“We had the team work through any possible breach of the network from here or from Russia. There’s no evidence the system was ever hacked.

I don’t know what to say, Blake, but every shred of evidence points to the posts coming from your own machines. ”

“Because they did,” Blake said.

“What?” David frowned.

“Blake?” said Michelle, standing up. “You’re admitting it? You did write those posts.”

“No.” He kept his tone as calm as he was able. “They came from my machines, but I didn’t write them.”

“What are you saying?” David asked. “Somebody else used your phone? Your computer?”

“Exactly,” said Blake, not taking his eyes off Michelle. “Somebody who knew the passwords. Someone who barely left my side.”

“Be very careful what you say next,” said Michelle, her expression carved from ice. She pointed a long, thin finger at him. “You are in dangerous territory.”

Blake took a step closer. “I know it was you, Michelle. I have proof. I saw Nate, and he showed me the metadata. I couldn’t have written some of those posts, and you know it.”

“The words of a desperate man,” Michelle said.

“Desperate men are dangerous,” Blake replied. “The post on the fourth of January, this year. I was in hospital with Nate while his mum was in surgery. No phone, no laptop. I couldn’t have made that post. David, you remember that?”

David nodded, his expression brightening. “Sure, you left your phone here. I was trying to call it all morning, and when I came to your office I found it on your desk. You weren’t back until the next day. You think . . . ?” David looked at Michelle as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I don’t think,” said Blake. “I know. Michelle knew all of my passwords — she regularly accessed my accounts for work. She planted the posts there, then activated them yesterday morning. Nate will back me up, and we can convince the board.”

Michelle stared at him, then her mouth curved up into a cruel smile. “You think that will convince them? You think that even matters? The world has spoken — you’re as guilty as they come.”

“Did you do this?” David asked, his eyes blazing.

Michelle didn’t reply, but everything in her expression told Blake the truth.

“Why?” Blake asked.

“Why do people do anything?” she said. “Money, power, love. You thought I loved you? You were wrong. It wasn’t you I loved. It was this.” She waved her hands around, indicating the plush office.

“You did all this to get your hands on Heartbook?” Blake spat. “It’s my life, Michelle. My whole life.”

Michelle turned to the window, staring out at the flawless blue sky. “It’s too late to change it, Blake. It’s business, and I win.”

How could she do this to him? She had to be a genuine sociopath to have planned his downfall with such precision. The sudden rush of anger made his vision blur, but David’s voice cut through the haze.

“This ends now,” he said, stepping between them. “We’re calling Agnes and Maurice. Today. Right now.”

He pulled out his phone and shot Blake a determined look. “We’re not letting her get away with this.” His hand gripped Blake’s shoulder like a lifeline. His voice was resolute, each word a promise. “It’s going to be okay, Blake. We’re going to fix this.”

Blake’s breath hitched, the weight on his chest easing slightly. For the first time in what felt like for ever, he allowed himself to believe it.

“Let’s do this,” he said, his voice steady, filled with a renewed sense of purpose.