Page 154 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Cade

A hurt look comes into her eyes. Her chin wobbles. A hot sensation stabs at my chest, and I push it aside. I’m doing the right thing. I’m making it clear to her that there is no hope of me developing any feelings for her. So why do I feel like a complete twat?

"Abby, I—"

She throws up her hand. "No, don’t say anything else. You’re my boss. I’m your employee. I’m sorry if I overstepped that line." She tips up her chin. "But as your Communications Manager, I need to warn you that your behavior is in danger of jeopardizing your career."

"That’s right; it’s my career. And you are under my protection." I slap my hands on my hips. "I’m responsible for you. If anyone dares put his hand on you, what am I going to tell your brother?"

A look of sheer incredulity sweeps over her features. "You may have promised my brother that you’d look out for me. That doesn’t mean I can’t date or meet other men or—"

"What did you say?" I lower my voice to a hush, and she pales. A shiver grips her.

"I… I…" She swallows. "I said you can’t stop me from dating other men—"

The stabbing sensation in my chest intensifies until it feels like a burning sword has run through me. "Want to try me on that and see what happens?”

"What the—" She shakes her head. "Are you for real? Are you even listening to yourself, you—"

"Everything okay here?" Isla walks into the room. She pauses when she reaches us, then looks between the two of us. "Abby, you okay?"

"Of course." Abby glances away, no doubt, in an attempt to regroup. When she turns to Isla, her features are more composed. She even manages to smile at her. "How is it out there?"

"It’s ugly." Isla winces.

I drag my fingers through my hair. Why is it so difficult for me to find a balance with the press? My relationship with journalists is, at best, tenuous and at worst, a disaster—like the current scenario promises to be.

"I don’t regret what I did." I straighten to my full height.

Abby rounds on me. "See, this is what I don’t get. You had no right butting into that dance. You had no reason to interfere. I was having an innocent dance—"

"Innocent, my ass. You were all over that guy."

"Yeah, it’s called dancing," she explains as if I’m five years old.

Anger flushes my skin. A nerve pops at my temple.

Everything in me insists I close the distance to her, then throw her over my shoulder and carry her away from here to a place where no one can see her.

No one, except me. And that is crazy. I do not get jealous or possessive about women.

I do not act proprietorial over females, and certainly, not over Knight’s little sister.

I curl my fingers into fists at my sides, then take a deep breath. "So, what do we do?"

"Now you want my help, huh?" Abby scoffs.

"You’re my PR manager, aren’t you? This kind of shit is exactly what I pay you to take care of."

She stiffens and color smears her cheeks. How adorable. She opens her mouth as if to say something to me, then seems to change her mind. She turns to Isla "Videos from the dance floor must already be making the rounds on the internet."

As if to punctuate her words, my phone pings; so does Isla’s.

"Oh no, my phone is in my bag, which I left downstairs," Abby exclaims.

"I have it." A new voice sounds. I turn to find a slender woman walking in with Abby’s handbag.

"Oh, thank you, Ava."

"Amelie had a call from Weston and had to leave but she told me to tell you she’s there for you, if you need anything," Ava murmurs.

Behind her is another woman who throws her arms around Abby. “Are you okay?”

“Of course, I’m okay,” Abby half-smiles.

The woman steps out of the circle of Abby’s arms and holds out her hand. “I’m Mira, Abby’s friend.”

“Cade.” I shake her hand.

“It’s my fault she danced with the other man; I didn’t give her a choice,” she explains.

“I really don’t need to explain myself to him,” Abby interrupts.

I narrow my gaze on her, and she sets her jaw before accepting her bag from Ava, who turns toward me. “I’m Ava Masters."

Masters. Why is that name so familiar?

"Cade Kingston," I murmur.

"You’re Zara’s twin." Her smile widens.

I tilt my head. "And you are—?"

"Zara’s friend."

My forehead clears. "You’re Baron Masters’ wife."

Ava’s smile widens. "I am."

Baron is one of the Seven who owns 7A Investments. I met the rest of the Seven through Zara’s husband Hunter. All except Baron and Ava, who’ve been living in the US over the past year.

"Ava and Baron moved back a few weeks ago." Isla continues to scroll through her phone. When it rings, she answers it, then switches to video and hands it to me.

“Can’t keep out of trouble can you?” My sister’s face fills the screen.

I wince. “Sorry, Z, didn’t mean to pull you into this mess.”

“Oh, Zara, we’re so sorry to have bothered you, and especially after you just gave birth,” Abby cries.

“The baby is asleep, Hunter had to go to an emergency meeting, and I’ve been twiddling my thumbs, so I’m happy to get my mind working around defusing this situation. Which, by the way, I have,” she says smugly.

“You have?” I frown.

“I saw the video clips blowing up on the internet and called Isla. I had her put me on video call, and together, we negotiated a settlement with the man you knocked out, in return for not pressing charges.”

I scowl. “That’s because he knew he was in the wrong. He touched my—"

“My?” Zara arches an eyebrow.

I glance up to where Abby is watching me closely.

“One of my employees,” I finally say.

Abby glances away. Fuck, what’s wrong with me? I almost slipped up and said he touched what’s mine. And I never make such mistakes. She’s not mine. I don’t want her to be mine. I don’t want any woman to be mine. But maybe, with her, it would be different? I shake my head to clear it.

Isla suppresses a smile.

"This is going to need an out-of-the-box solution to salvage your reputation," Zara warns, then yawns suddenly.

For the first time, I notice the dark circles under her eyes. She’s such a force of nature and looks so collected, it’s easy to forget she has, in fact, recently given birth. Only my sister could bounce back from a life-altering event and be happy to jump right back into a work-related situation.

"You look exhausted," I offer.

Zara snorts. "The understatement of the century, and also, I hope that was a tongue-in-cheek statement, given I have a newborn to take care of."

I flush. As always, my sister can reduce me to size. "I’m sorry, that wasn’t a very appropriate statement to make.”

"You think?" She yawns again. "I have enough on my plate with the baby and everything. I’m not thinking straight enough to be of much help here. As I said, this is going to need a unique solution, one which"—she turns to Abby—"you, as his PR manager should be able to come up with."

"M…me?" Abby swallows.

Zara’s features soften. "You’ll be fine. You’ve learned so much in the last few months. Now is your chance to put your new-found knowledge into practice."

"B-but… I’ve never managed a campaign on my own."

"Nothing like learning on the job. Besides, I’ll only be a phone call away. You can call me anytime you need guidance." Zara smiles. "I have every faith in you," she declares.

Abby’s flush deepens. "O-okay."

"I’m sure you’ll have this under control in no time."

"Umm. Okay?" Abby says with hesitation.

Zara jerks her chin in my direction. "And you...” She shakes her head. “You’d better cooperate with whatever plan Abby devises. Remember, she’s the PR expert here."

"Whatever you say, sis."

Zara’s frown deepens. "I mean it, Cade. You’d better not give Abby a rough time."

But what if she likes it rough? What if she likes being manhandled? What if she likes to be taken so hard, she falls apart, only to be put back together in a form that reflects my deepest proclivities?

"Cade, do you hear me?" Zara’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

"Of course, Z. Don’t worry yourself. Abby and I will take care of this together." I straighten, then glance toward Abby, who’s definitely gone paler in the last few seconds.

"No funny business." Zara stabs her finger at me. "And if I hear anything about you being hard on Abby—"

I wince. Don’t think about the word 'hard' in relation to Abby. Not when you’re talking with your sister. For fuck’s sake, man, get a grip on your imagination.

"You’ll have me to deal with me." Zara rolls her shoulders. "Right, I’m out of here then." She disconnects the call.

Isla drops her phone into her bag. "Before I forget, the manager of the club has agreed to let you use this office for another hour," she offers.

“Thanks, Isla, I owe you one.” Abby kisses Isla’s cheek.

“Nonsense, you take care of yourself, and call if you need anything.” She nods in my direction, then pivots and leaves.

Ava glances between us. "Guess I should be getting along then."

"Thanks for bringing my bag." Abby gives her a small wave.

Ava walks over and kisses her. "Anytime, babe." She steps back, then turns and waves at me. "Good to have met you, Cade."

“I can stay if you want.” Mira raises her chin in Abby’s direction. “Just say the word, Abby, and I’ll wait until you’re done with your meeting.”

Abby hesitates, then slowly shakes her head. “I’m good.”

Mira scowls. “You sure?”

“No, really, I’m fine,” Abby replies.

“Hmm.” Mira looks at me, then back at her. “I can totally wait for you downstairs.”

Abby’s lips curve slightly. “I’m good, I promise.”

“I’ll make sure to drop her home,” I add.

“Hmm…” Mira stabs her finger in my direction. “You’d better treat her right.”

What is it with these women tonight? I raise my hand. “I promise.” I’ll treat her the way she likes it.

With a last look at me, Mira heads out of the room. The door snicks shut behind her.

In the silence that follows, Abby watches me with a frown on her face.

"You don’t have to look so scared; I’m not going to bite you." Not unless you ask me to, that is. Not that I’m going to say that aloud to her… Yet.

She firms her jaw. "I’m not scared."