Page 3 of Tempting the Billionaire (Billionaire Brothers #5)

Emma

I stare down at the text from Justin on my phone screen. A pit of dread forms in my stomach, and I toss the phone onto my couch.

He’s been texting me for the last few days, wanting to talk. And I’ve been ignoring him.

I know it won’t do us any good. We’ve had more than enough conversations.

Conversations with him begging me to take him back, conversations with him berating me for being a bitch and leaving, conversations wanting to dissect our relationship and try again.

We’ve had more than enough conversations for both of us to find closure. Anything more just isn’t needed .

In fact, anything more is just painful and scary and frustrating.

But it seems like the longer I ignore him, the more persistent he becomes.

I hear my phone vibrate from the couch, and I heave an irritated sigh while digging through the fridge to try and drum up some ingredients for dinner.

I hear my phone vibrate again. And again. And again. And then I realize he must be calling me. I let it vibrate away, and finally it stops. But then, barely thirty seconds later, it starts up again.

I sigh angrily, stalking across the apartment to grab my phone, glaring down at the screen. Giving in, I answer.

“What, Justin?” I snap.

“God, finally. Why haven’t you been responding to my texts?”

“Why do you think?” I retort.

“Look, we need to talk. Can I come over?”

“No.”

“Come on, Em. I know what apartment complex you’re in, I just need the number.”

“How do you know that?” I demand.

“I asked around. ”

I glare at the wall ahead of me, wondering which of our mutual friends snitched on me. “Justin, we’ve already gone over everything there is to go over, there’s no use in—”

“It’s not about getting back together,” he interrupts me. “I promise. I know it’s over. I just … want some closure.”

I pause, unsure whether to believe him. Does he really mean it? “I, uh …”

“Come on, Em. Let me just get a bit of closure. It’s the least you owe me,” he says.

“Well …”

“What’s your apartment number?”

I don’t respond.

“I’m already outside the building, Em. Just lemme know the number.”

He’s here? He’s outside? I bite my lip. Damnit. “204,” I finally mutter.

“I’ll be right there.” And with that, he hangs up.

I barely have time to register what I’ve just agreed to before a loud knock sounds at my door. I shake my head, opening it up to see Justin standing on the threshold. He smiles warily. “It’s great to see you, Em. ”

I wish he’d stop calling me that. Like he still owns me or something.

He steps into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. We stand in awkward silence for a few moments, until finally, he breaks it.

“I heard you got a new job.”

My heart sinks at that. I eye him warily. “Yeah …”

“Bishop Jewelers,” he says.

Okay, so he knows. I bite my lip, preparing myself for anything. That’s the thing with Justin. He could be totally fine about something, or he could end up flipping out. You never knew.

“You know, considering how you just up and left me, there is one big thing you could do to help with closure ,” he says.

I narrow my eyes at him. Both at the implication that my leaving was heartless, and at the suspicion as to what he’s going to suggest. “What do you want, Justin?” I ask quietly.

“I want to fuck up Bishop Jewelers, and you’re the way to do it,” he states simply.

I stare at him for a few heartbeats. “What?” is what I finally come up with.

“You heard me. ”

I shake my head, feeling the exasperation coming on. “What are you talking about?”

“You know they’re the reason Stoll Jewelry went out of business. It’s bad enough that you jumped ship and went straight to them—but now you can actually do some good—”

“Stoll went under for a lot of reasons, Justin, you know that,” I interrupt.

“Bishop Jewelers being the main one!” he snaps. “They’re a fucking conglomerate. They squash the little guys. Well, it’s time for the little guys to get revenge.”

“Revenge?” I echo, trying to piece together whatever crazy plan Justin has come up with.

He nods. “Yes. At first, I was furious to learn that you’d taken a job with them, but now? Now, it’s the perfect in.”

I’m already shaking my head. “I’m not spying on them for you or anything like that.”

“Good, because that’s not what I want.”

“Well, then what—”

“I want you to seduce the owner.”

A long pause stretches between us, his words echoing in the stillness around us. Finally, a laugh bubbles up from deep within me. “Are you serious?” It’s quite possibly the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard come out of Justin’s mouth. And he’s said quite a few absurd things.

But he doesn’t laugh along. He simply stares me down, unmoving. “Yes, I’m serious. Ezra Bishop. The owner, CEO, or whatever. He’s married, and he’s the perfect face to their perfect company—one of their engagement rings is even named after his wife.”

I balk a bit at the news that Ezra is married. I don’t remember seeing a ring on his finger the other day when I’d met him. But that doesn’t matter. “This is insane,” I say through another laugh.

“I want to see their pristine reputation ruined. I want the headlines to be littered with stories about how Ezra, the perfect face of Bishop Jewelers, cheated on his wife with a lowly sales associate.”

“Justin, people cheat all the time,” I say, rolling my eyes. “This isn’t going to ruin their business, and more importantly—it isn’t going to bring Stoll’s back.”

“I don’t care that it won’t ruin it—I still want it tarnished,” Justin presses.

I shake my head, growing tired of this conversation. “You know I’m not going to seduce anyone.”

“Oh yes, you are,” Justin says, his gaze darkening. “And this is why.” He pulls out his phone, pressing something and then holding it out for me to see .

It’s the sound that registers first. Moaning.

I’m confused at first, but then, all at once, it hits me. It’s my voice. Moaning, whimpering, saying Justin’s name.

My eyes widen, and I lurch forward to catch a glimpse of mine and Justin’s naked bodies before he snatches the phone away from me.

“When did you take that?” My blood runs cold. I don’t ever remember us filming ourselves. At least, we’d never discussed filming ourselves. Had he done this … without telling me?

Obviously.

He smirks, turning off the video and sliding it into his pocket. “You turn Ezra Bishop into a dirty cheater, or I post this video on every social media platform in existence,” he says simply.

I feel like my body has been submerged in ice. I stare at Justin in disbelief. He can’t be serious. He can’t. Sure, Justin was an asshole, but he’d never do this. He wouldn’t.

“Justin,” I say slowly. “Please …”

He cocks his head. “The choice is yours, Em.”

Em . The word makes my blood boil coming from his mouth. “What if I can’t do it?” I ask. “It’s very likely he won’t fall for it. ”

Justin shoots me a look. “Come on. A hot piece of meat like you? Any guy would trip over himself drooling just to get a good look at you. Flash him your tits, and you’re in.”

My face flushes red at the implications. “You know this won’t really hurt them. They’re an empire. It’ll only end up with me losing my job and Ezra losing his marriage,” I say, my voice choking.

“Well, I’d like to see you lose your job and Ezra lose his marriage, then,” he replies coldly.

I glare at him, running in circles in my mind trying to find a way out—and ending up stuck. There is no way out. If I don’t want that humiliating video out there for everyone to see; I have to do what Justin asks.

“I’ll call you next week to check in on your progress,” Justin says, turning toward the door.

I want to call out to him, to plead him to change his mind, to not make me do this, but I find that I’ve lost my voice. And besides, deep down, I know it’s no use.

The door slams behind him, and I’m left in the silence of my apartment. It isn’t until the shock and panic subside that I finally crumple to the floor in sobs.