The Billionaire's Club by Tracey Pedersen

The Billionaire's Club by Tracey Pedersen

Author:Tracey Pedersen [Pedersen, Tracey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Daring Online Adventures


“Did anyone follow you?” Cross is the last to arrive for my belated birthday get together. He’s frowning and could easily pass for someone who has swallowed a lemon. Jessa pats him on the shoulder and squeezes his hand.

“Not us,” Danny says.

“Cole? Did you and Melody notice anyone?”

“Nope. Should we have been checking? Because we weren’t.”

“Sam? Wyatt?” Cross is rattled and he has my full attention. This is not the atmosphere I expected for a late birthday catch up.

“No,” Wyatt says. “Would you stop asking? We were definitely not followed. Not by paparazzi, not by the police, not even by the local kids on their bikes.”

“Okay, good, because you’re not going to like what I have to show you.”

“Can we have lunch before you ruin our good mood? I can call a contractor to start installing an electric fence if that will make you feel better, Cross.”

My efforts to lighten the mood fall on deaf ears. Cross doesn’t smile, but he does say, “That depends. What are we having?”

“Mrs McGregor made a whole spread.” I point to the dining table. “We just have to help ourselves.”

“Well, load up your plates, gents. After I share what I’ve found you’ll be off your food.”

“Bullshit. Spill now. I don’t want to wait.” Cole shakes his head and crosses his arms. “Come on, Cross. It’s obviously bothering you.”

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath and glances at Jessa, who takes the drink Melody holds out to her. “I received an email this morning with a copy of a newspaper article that’s going to print tomorrow.” He throws several pieces of paper onto the coffee table. “I printed a few.”

Each of us leans forward to take a sheet, and Sam hands one to me. It takes a moment before I realise what I’m seeing. “Oh.”

“Damn. Who wrote this?” Danny frowns and look up. “It’s pretty close to the truth.”

“It is. Especially this bit.” Cross doesn’t look at his paper, telling me he’s read and re-read the article a hundred times. “This man portrays himself as the everyman, when in fact, he sits on a pile of gold. An empire of riches. A secret stash that would make some of the richest men in the world green with envy. His accident only served to attract the others to him, and his wealth explains a lot about previous murky business dealings.”

“You okay, Merek?”

I say nothing, my eyes skating over the article that describes a decade-old demolition scandal. It delves into big chunks of my investment portfolio, as well as replicating a copy of my personal tax return, and naming several of the men in this room. “One guess how this got out.”

“Becky,” several people say together.

“Has to be. I wondered why she didn’t ask me for money to go away.” The unmasking of my personal business makes sense. She had access for several days to whatever she could find on my phone. And I did kick her out of here, yesterday. Well, Mindy did. “I’d thought that would be the first thing she did.



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