Page 13 of Tempting the Billionaire (Billionaire Brothers #5)

Emma

I return home Sunday night absolutely giddy. After spending the weekend walking the beaches of Maine, exploring the quaint town of Bar Harbor, and letting Ezra do just about the filthiest things I’ve ever allowed someone to do to me, my brain is an oxytocin-infused blur.

And what’s worse is that even though we’ve been apart for approximately four hours, I can’t wait to see him again. I almost laugh at the absurdity. I’m like some giddy highschooler.

But that giddiness dries up in an instant when I hear a knock at the door and glance through the peephole to see who it is .

Shit.

I unlock the door, and Justin barges in, shutting the door behind him. “What are you doing here?” I demand.

“Where have you been all weekend?” he shoots back.

“I—I’ve been with … Ezra,” I admit.

He nods. “So I’m guessing you’ve finally fucked, yeah?”

I feel myself redden, and all of a sudden this weekend spent with Ezra, all our moments together, feel cheap and horrible and slimy. God, what had I even been thinking? That I could somehow untangle myself from this mess and that Ezra and I had any sort of chance at … anything?

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Justin says derisively. “Okay, then we’ll have to set up some kind of situation where I can catch you in the act, get pictures, and leak them to the press.”

My eyes widen. “Pictures?”

He rolls his eyes. “Nothing dirty, just you two out at a bar or something. You’ll need to kiss, but nothing sexual.”

I’m silent, realizing I hadn’t really thought this far into the plan. I’d been so blinded by the fear of my videos being leaked that nothing else had mattered .

Justin seems to notice my discomfort. “Better a photo of you kissing Ezra plastered over the local newspapers than a video of me fucking you plastered all over the internet.” He pins me with a hard stare. “Right?”

I swallow. “Justin,” I say after a long pause. “Why does this matter so much to you?”

He shakes his head, opening his mouth to refute me, but I beat him to it.

“Just let it go. Please. You don’t have to do this—any of this.”

“We’re doing it, Emma. Get over it,” he snaps, taking a step toward me, towering over me.

“Please,” I beg, feeling myself near tears. “This won’t affect his company, nothing will. Besides, there’s barely a scandal to be had, he’s …” I falter for a moment. “He’s divorcing his wife anyway.”

At this, Justin raises an eyebrow. He seems to ponder this for a moment, but then he doubles down. “All the more reason to leak this scandal before his divorce goes public.”

I stare at him incredulously.

“Make plans to meet him somewhere public, somewhere I can also be. Let me know the time and location—and remember to kiss him, feel him up, be romantic. It needs to be obvious in the picture.” He turns to go, but I reach for his arm .

“Justin, please ,” I beg. “Please don’t make me do this.”

He glares at me. “It’s this or those pictures, Em.” His tone is icy. He continues on his way to the door, but I grab his arm, pulling with all my might. “Let go,” he snaps, but I don’t.

“Please,” I say, my voice coming out through a broken sob.

“Jesus Christ, Emma, just fucking do it!” he yells, grabbing me by the shoulders and slamming me into the wall.

My head makes contact with the drywall, an immediate ringing taking center stage in my ears.

I cry out in pain, sliding to the floor while Justin steps back.

He stares down at me for a long moment, although I can barely make him out through blurry vision.

After a few seconds, he leaves, slamming the door behind him.

In the silence, surrounded by pain, ringing, and distress, I give in to the sobs.