The Rebel Billionaire (Scandals of the Bad Boy Billionaires Book 5) Read online

  The Rebel Billionaire

  A Scandals of the Bad Boy Billionaires Novel

  Ivy Layne

  Contents

  About

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek - The Billionaire’s Secret Kiss

  Coming Soon - The Billionaire’s Angel

  Thank You

  Also by Ivy Layne

  About the Author

  ABOUT

  THE REBEL BILLIONAIRE

  We said we could do casual.

  We swore we wouldn’t fall in love.

  We lied.

  CHARLIE

  I didn’t buy my house just so I could stare at the guy next door. I swear.

  It’s not my fault he mows the lawn with his shirt off. His tattooed muscles are an eye magnet.

  I can’t look away.

  The first kiss is an accident. One taste and I have to have more.

  We were supposed to keep it casual. Neighbors with benefits. No big deal.

  When a client comes after me for turning him in to the FBI, Lucas swears he’ll keep me safe.

  I’m not supposed to fall in love with him. That’s not the deal.

  I’m walking straight into a broken heart and I can’t stop myself.

  LUCAS

  My new neighbor is a nightmare. Or a wet dream.

  Charlotte Winters, the crown princess of the Winters clan.

  It shouldn’t be hard to keep my distance. We have nothing in common.

  I grew up not knowing where my next meal was coming from. She grew up with a personal chef.

  But Charlie isn’t what I expected. It’s not just that she’s funny, and determined, and sexy as hell.

  She’s vulnerable. She’s in danger. And she turns to fire in my arms.

  One kiss and I’m in too deep to walk away.

  I have no business being friends with a woman like her, much less claiming a place in her bed.

  Too f*king bad.

  Now that I've had a taste of Charlie, I’m not giving her up. Not until I have to.

  Even if it destroys us both.

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHARLIE

  "You're fired."

  I laughed.

  Why wouldn't I? Aiden was joking. He couldn't fire me. I was Charlotte Winters, and we were sitting in the executive offices of Winters Incorporated. I'd been working for the family company since I was eighteen. I belonged here. Sometimes, it felt like this was the only place I belonged.

  Aiden couldn't fire me. I waited for him to laugh along with me.

  The laugh never came. He sat behind his desk, his usually warm, brown eyes chilly and impenetrable. Aiden was the only man I knew who could loom while sitting down. I fought the urge to shrink into my chair.

  I'd seen him aim that cold stare at plenty of people—employees, clients, his ex-wife. Never me.

  "Aiden, you're not firing me," I said, trying to force amusement into my voice. This was all a joke, right? Aiden held my gaze, unflinching. I sat up straight, feeling my own eyes go cold. "Is this about Hayward?"

  Aiden paused for a split second before shaking his head. "This has nothing to do with Hayward," he said, meeting my eyes. He was lying. He had to be.

  "You agreed that we had to turn him in. You went with me to the FBI. How can you fire me over it?"

  Aiden's jaw was set as he said, "Charlotte, this has nothing to do with Bruce Hayward. You handled that situation perfectly and I'm proud of your courage."

  "I don't understand."

  "I already told you. You're fired. Security has cleared out your desk. When we're done here, they'll escort you from the building."

  His words were a punch to the gut. Tears threatened. I knew that prickle in the back of my eyes. I bit down on the inside of my lip, my teeth cutting into the tender flesh so hard I tasted the copper of blood.

  I would not cry. I refused. Swallowing hard, I stood, planting my fisted hands on my hips. I knew I was in real trouble when Aiden stayed where he was.

  If this was a power play, he would have come to his feet and reestablished his dominance. If he was letting me take physical control of the room, it was only because he knew he'd already won. Fear was an icy wave cresting behind me. When it broke, I'd be lost.

  I was my job. If he kicked me out of Winters Inc., what would I do? I didn't know who I was without the company. Not anymore.

  Steel bands wrapped my ribcage and I couldn't draw a breath. Turning my back on Aiden, I inhaled slowly, digging my nails into my palms and dragging my emotions under control.

  I'd learned the hard way to keep my feelings to myself. Always. Even with my family. No one saw my pain, my fears. No one saw me cry. Ever. Not since I was ten.

  Aiden knew me better than almost anyone alive, and he gave me time to pull myself together. Also not a good sign.

  When I thought I could keep my voice level, I said, "I'd like you to explain this to me. After years of giving everything I have to this company, I'd like to know why you think you can shove me out the door."

  There, I'd done it. I was calm. In control. I was not about to scream and burst into tears. I was not going to curl into a ball and sob. And I was not going to kill Aiden. Not yet.

  In the same cool voice he used when he'd fired me, he said, "Charlotte, keeping you on isn't what's best for you."

  My voice as icy as his, I asked, "What's best for the company, or what's best for me?"

  "For you. It's not what's best for you," he said.

  A volcano of rage burned away the ice. What the fuck? Keeping a lid on it, just barely, I managed to grind out one word from between my clenched teeth.

  "Explain."

  Aiden let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair, dropping the chilly CEO persona. His eyes on mine had all the warmth I was used to from my big brother. It only made me more furious.

  "Charlie. You've been working here since you were eighteen. It was bad enough when you were in school. Now that you've graduated, you work all the time."

  "So do you," I said in a short burst of sound. He did. He worked every day. He was here first and was the last to leave. Except when I was here late. Or early.

  He might have a point about me working too much, but I was no worse than Aiden and he knew it.

  "But I love my job," Aiden said, his tone so gentle I had to fight back tears. "I love this company. I always have. And you don't."

  "You can't fire me for not liking my job!" I shouted. "No one likes their job. That's why it's a job and not a hobby. This is ridiculous!"

  I felt myself losing control, my fury and terror spiraling up and spewing out of my mouth. "You can't fire me because I don't love my job. I'm an exemplary employee—"

  "You are," Aiden interrupted. "You're an excellent Vice President. If you weren't my sister, I'd be giving you a raise."

  That little bit of complete illogic pushed me over the edge. I kicked my chair, sending it rolling to crash into Aiden
's huge walnut desk. He didn't flinch. I pointed at him, stabbing my finger into the air to punctuate my rage.

  "This is completely sexist. You're doing this because you want me to get married and start having babies like Maggie."

  "That's absurd," Aiden said with a wince. "I do NOT want you to get married. Jesus. Not until you get better taste in men. And I'd rather not think about my baby sister having babies of her own."

  "You wouldn't be doing this if I were a man," I said, sullen, my arms crossed over my chest.

  "Charlie, how many senior executives do we have who are female?"

  "Seven," I said, knowing the point he was going to make.

  "Exactly. Just under half. And how many of those have families?"

  "Five. So why me? Why are you firing me?"

  I bit my lip to shut down the plaintive whine in my voice. I knew Aiden wasn't sexist. I was grasping at straws. I knew it wasn't my performance. I was good at my job, even if I didn't like it. If it wasn't sexism, then what?

  Why was he doing this to me? Didn't Aiden understand that my job was all I had?

  "It isn't about your gender, Charlie," Aiden said in that same gentle tone. "I'd do the same if you were Holden or Tate. Even Jacob."

  "But not Gage?" I asked, half sarcastic and half trying to figure out what the hell was going through Aiden's oversized brain.

  "Not Gage. Gage loves the company," Aiden said, his tone almost wistful.

  "Then why isn't he here?" I said in exasperation, feeling my temper slipping its leash again.

  "I never should have let you come on board, sweetheart. But you were so determined and I was selfish."

  I sat in my chair abruptly, my anger down to a simmer. "Aiden, you're never selfish." He wasn't. Aiden was about two things—his family and the company. He'd open a vein for any one of us in a second.

  "I was," he insisted. "I never pressured any of the others to join the company. I knew Holden and Tate would find their futures elsewhere. And Jacob loves business, but he needed to run his own shop. With Vance and Annalise, it was clear they had no interest in a nine-to-five job. I was right with all of them. Except you."

  "Aiden," I protested, "You’ve always supported me. That's why I don't get this. You don't have to fire me. We can work something out. I'll cut back."

  "I supported you, but I didn't look out for you. I was selfish. I always thought Gage would come home and we'd do this together. But he's doing what he needs to. I understand that. When you wanted to come on board, I should have told you no."

  "But why?" I begged. "Don't try to tell me I haven't done a good job."

  "I can't. You're bright and you have a head for business. No one works harder. But your heart isn't in it."

  I shoved to my feet. "I'm not the only one here who isn't in love with Winters Incorporated."

  "No, Charlie. But you're the only one who's my sister. I love you. And you're not happy. I can't be a part of that anymore."

  "You don't get to choose that for me."

  "Maybe not. I can't tell you what to do now. You're going to have to figure that out on your own. But I can tell you what you aren't going to do. And that's come to work tomorrow."

  "I'll go somewhere else. There are a hundred companies who would love to give me a job." I wasn't being cocky. It was true. I might not love my job, but I was good at it.

  Aiden shook his head, looking almost sheepish before the expression dissolved into a grim look that made me nervous. "You won't find another job in Atlanta," he admitted. "You'll have to take some time off to think about what you want."

  "What? You blackballed me? How could you do that?"

  Everything I'd worked for since I was eighteen was slipping through my fingers and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. Horror congealed in my stomach. I never cried. Not in front of anyone.

  I wiped my cheeks with my palms, hurt and anger a hot, poisonous ball in my chest. I would have expected betrayal from anyone else before I would have looked to Aiden. He was more than my older brother. He'd practically raised me after our parents had died.

  Through the blur of tears, I saw him coming toward me. I put up a hand to stop him. If he tried to comfort me, I was going to bash him in the head with the heavy Baccarat pen holder on his desk. All our family needed was for me to end up in jail for killing Aiden. After two suspected murder/suicides, we'd had all the scandal we could take.

  I backed up, putting my chair between us. Biting hard on the inside of my lip to stop my tears, I said, "Back off. I hate you right now."

  "I know you do, Charlie. I can live with that. But I miss you. I miss the Charlie you used to be. And I know you miss her too."

  I held my breath, strangling my shout of rage. I stormed out of Aiden's office. No one commented on my red eyes as I rushed through the halls. Aiden had been thoughtful enough to have my desk packed into a box while we were in his office, the bastard. Security didn't exactly escort me out, but they were there, lurking.

  Fucking Aiden. How could he do this to me? What did he mean, he missed me? He saw me every day!

  At the memory of his face when I left, somehow both contrite and resolved, my vision flared with white hot rage so fierce I was blinded by it. I was not going to think about Aiden. I was not going to think about the scope of his betrayal or wonder how my beloved brother could have done this to me. If I did, I might swing the car around and go back to the office. If I laid eyes on him again, I'd kill him.

  I barely noticed my family home as I sped up the drive. Located on ten wooded acres in the heart of Buckhead, Atlanta's most elite neighborhood, Winters House was a seventeen thousand square foot Mediterranean-style mansion.

  At that size, it could have been imposing, but the warm, creamy walls and red tile roof gave it the look of a historic Italian villa, both welcoming and impressive.

  Built in a square around a central courtyard, the design made the big building intimate, as well as more secure. When I was a child, the inner gate had never been closed.

  After my parents died, we'd all been grateful our home could double as a fortress. With so much of our family gone, we'd wanted to protect what was left.

  I came to a stop in front of the black iron gate that protected the courtyard. Stabbing my finger at the remote to open it, I waited for the heavy gate to swing open, vibrating with anger and impatience.

  Pulling in front of the tall front doors, I parked, taking my keys with me. I didn't want the staff to move the car as they usually did. I wouldn't be here long enough.

  For once, I didn't give a thought to how things looked. I just wanted to get my things and get out. The home I'd always loved looked like a prison, complete with my brother as warden.

  I loved Winters House. We all did, but everyone else had eventually moved out. I'd stayed, not comfortable leaving Aiden to rattle around in the big house by himself with only staff for company.

  I was over it now. If I had to look at him at the dinner table, I'd stab him with a fork.

  Lucky for me, I had somewhere to go. Funny how things worked out. A month before, I'd bought a rundown Craftsman-style home in the Virginia Highlands neighborhood. I don't know why.

  Buying that house was the first irrational thing I'd done since I was a teenager. I didn't need a house. And while real estate could be a good investment, that was more Jacob's thing than mine.

  All I can say is that the first time I laid eyes on that house, I wanted it. Now it was mine, and it was a mess.

  The plumbing was shot, the front porch was falling apart, and the electrical wasn't much better. At least I'd managed to get the single bathroom on the first floor working. I just needed a sleeping bag and a mini-fridge and I could move in.

  No one was home at Winters House, another stroke of luck on this unbelievably shitty day. Mrs. Williamson, the family housekeeper, must have been out running errands. There was a gardener, some day maids, and a cook, but they were nowhere to be seen.

  I raced
to my suite and slammed the door behind me, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the full-length mirror in my dressing room.

  It was like looking at a familiar stranger, even after all these years. I had my mother's shiny auburn hair, but I wore mine pulled back into a restrained, professional chignon. I was her height and had the same curvy build.

  I could still remember the scent of her perfume and the warmth of her hugs. I'd never be my mom, but she hadn't wanted me to be her. She'd wanted me to be me.

  I had no idea who that was anymore.

  For a second, I had a flash of another me superimposed over the view of my charcoal suit and sensible heels. Me at fifteen, a little plump, wearing a Misfits t-shirt and a paint splattered pair of Converse, a blue streak in my long hair.

  Before my life changed for the second time. Before Elizabeth moved in. It was the last time I remembered being me. Really, truly me. But I couldn't go back. No one could.

  If I didn't have Winters Incorporated, I had no idea how to go forward.

  I stripped off the suit and pulled on jeans and a short-sleeved cotton sweater. No reason to be dressed up if I was unemployed. Especially if I was going to my house. I loved every decrepit inch, but the place was a mess.

  Stuffing clothes and toiletries in a bag, I called Maggie. Magnolia Henry was my cousin's fiancée and my best friend. No answer.

  Just before I could leave a message, I remembered she and Vance were out of town with Rosie, Vance's infant daughter. They'd said it was a business trip, but they'd brought along their new nanny and I'd teased Maggie that it was more a pre-honeymoon than a business trip.