Billionaire Blackmail: My Billionaire Boss, Part 5 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

Billionaire Blackmail: My Billionaire Boss, Part 5 (A BDSM Erotic Romance) by Emily Cantore

Published by Emily Cantore

Copyright 2013 Emily Cantore. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

Emily Cantore

www.emilycantore.com

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This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Billionaire Blackmail: My Billionaire Boss Part 5

I was falling down the rabbit hole again but this time there were sharp spikes at the bottom and the walls were plastered with pictures of 16-year-old me holding a Molotov cocktail.

Someone knew about my past. They had been in my
apartment. And they were going to blackmail me.

I kept compulsively checking my phone, waiting for a response to the message I'd sent. Pick it up, put it down. Pick it up, put it down. When it finally did chime, my heart started thudding so hard I thought I was going to die.
But it was just my older sister updating me on what my niece and nephew had been doing.

Somehow that was even worse and I found myself crouched on the floor of the kitchen, my stomach tensed up, taking deep underwater breaths and just staring at her message. There was normal happy life going on far away
and I was here, caught up in some twisted game where I was falling for my damaged boss and trying to take his company down at the same time. The cold anger that had driven me to get a job at Stone-Black had transformed into confusion. I just couldn't believe Mr. Stone would ever be involved in illegal dumping of chemicals. I felt like my mind was splitting into pieces. One part was rational and cold, telling me that billionaires don't become billionaires without getting blood on their hands. Another part wanted him and was willing to forgive it all for a passionate kiss. Another part was younger me, judging the girl I'd become. The weak stupid girl who thought she'd take down a massive company and just ended up fucking the boss.

I finally got up from the kitchen floor and made it back to the sofa but that was no better with the photo and article now hidden under a pile of junk mail. I kept following my thoughts around and
ending up at only two options:

Confess all to Mr. Stone.

Leave him and never come back.

After another few
hours of guilt and anger and feeling like I was going mad, I decided to be an irresponsible fool and opened a bottle of white wine from the fridge. Yes, it was only just past lunch but I didn't care. I gulped down the first glass like it was water, feeling the alcohol warm me from within. The second glass followed about as quickly and by the time I was pouring myself the third, I felt the alcohol wash my anxiety away.

*

I arrived at work on Monday with a headache, dark sunglasses and a giant coffee from the slow cafe down the road. They'd burned it but I didn't really care. I just needed liquid, caffeine and sugar. I still hadn't heard from whomever was in my apartment but somehow had stopped caring about it. A hangover will do that. I slumped my way through the lobby like a zombie and took the elevator to the top floor. I was feeling bad but thinking it wouldn't really get any worse. Then the elevator doors opened and I saw Mr. Black leaning against my desk, shuffling through some papers in a manila folder.

"Delilah! So good to see you." He smiled and waved me over like we were old friends. I stepped out of the elevator on auto-pilot and glanced towards Mr. Stone's office. The doors were closed but I didn't know if they were locked.

"He's not in," Mr. Black said and smiled at me again.

"Good morning, Mr. Black," I mumbled as I walked past him and around my desk. I put my bag down and took my sunglasses off, feeling like I was suddenly adrift at sea. Was Mr. Black my boss too? What was he doing here?

He stood up from my desk and pulled the guest chair out on the other side before sitting down and looking up at me.

"Rough night?"

I took a sip of coffee and tried to process what was going on. I had to get back into professional mode! He was the other owner of Stone-Black and probably here to ask me about financial figures or something. But here he was looking like he was genuinely concerned. The wolfish lady-killer I'd met at the party was gone.

I sat down and forced a smile. "White wine," I said and immediately called myself an idiot for admitting I was hung-over. Well done Delilah.

He chuckled and looked down at the papers he was holding. "It's that preservative they use and no matter how expensive the wine is, you can still get smacked with it. J and I had a five-hundred dollar bottle at a resort once and the next day it was like we'd been poisoned. Between us we ate all the bacon and fried food that buffet had. I think I saw the chef crying in the kitchen later."

I laughed and then winced as my headache throbbed. Did I have him all wrong? Mr. Stone didn't like him but did that mean I had to dislike him too?
And he called Mr. Stone
J
?

"Sorry we didn't get to talk much at the party. It's ... ah ..." he trailed off and waved his hand around, "It had nothing to do with you. Years ago one of Jackson's girlfriends decided to tell him she liked me more than him. I'd barely spoken with her and would never anyway but it broke a bit of our friendship. I love the guy like my brother but he gets a little touchy if I'm around a girl he likes."

He looked down at the paper again, almost shyly, and raised his eyebrows before laughing. "Wow, over-sharing much on a Monday morning with a pretty girl who has a hangover. Forget I said anything. I'm embarrassed."

"It's fine," I said and smiled back at him.
Pretty girl?

"Okay, to work so I can't say anything else stupid. I was hoping you could help me out. I know you're Jackson's assistant but mine has gone off to have a baby and I haven't got anyone to replace her yet. I just need some contracts and other correspondence and thought that maybe you have time?
It's for a meeting tomorrow lunch."

"Mr. Stone has me looking up a lot of contracts right now but I'm sure I can help. Is that what you're looking for?"

Mr. Black handed me the manila folder. It had three sheets of paper in it. I skimmed over them. He wanted contracts between two companies, some correspondence between a certain date range and then contracts between another two companies.

"Should be okay. I'll have something for you later today?"

"You are a life saver. Margueritte usually does this for me but for some reason she just couldn't hold the baby in so she could stay at work. Selfish really."

He grinned at me and I laughed and winced once more.

"Stop telling jokes, my head can't take it," I said, taking another sip of burned coffee.

"Deal. I'll see you later maybe."

With that, Mr. Black went to the elevator which opened when he pressed the button. He smiled once more at me as the doors closed and I sat back in my chair. My head was spinning but this time it wasn't the hangover.

What had just happened?

*

I was halfway th
rough Mr. Black's work when the elevator opened and a young delivery guy who looked like a surfer stepped out. He was holding a white paper bag that the moment I saw it, I knew held something fried and greasy.

"Delivery for Delilah? Ha, that's cool. D for D. Man, nice office."

He was pure surfer stoner and laughed at his own joke as he came over. He handed me the bag and then waved away my trying to tip him.

"Dude already tipped me big time. Enjoy!" He walked back to the elevator and hit the call button.

I opened the top of the bag and the delicious scent of bacon and friend hash brown rose up.

"Do you know who ordered this?"

The elevator opened and he stepped inside.

"Um ... sorry dude."

The doors closed and he was gone.

I reached into the bag and pulled out a container. It held crispy bacon, two eggs, two
hash browns and some sliced fried tomato. There was also a note that was going see-through from all the oil.

Bacon bacon bacon,

That'll stop your achin'

MB

I took a bite of a bacon strip and felt my stomach rumble. It was so good I nearly moaned aloud. This day had gone from terrible to strange and now it was both delicious and confusing.

I wolfed my way through the meal, feeling my hangover fading with each bite. Once I had some food inside me, I wiped off my fingers on the napkin provided and relaxed back into my chair.

Maybe I could tell Mr. Stone about the blackmail. Maybe I could just ignore it. Maybe I'd tell Mr. Stone and then he wrap me in his arms and tell me the past didn't matter before tearing my clothes off.

As though my thoughts had summoned him, an email appeared from Mr. Stone. I smiled to myself as I opened it but then was disappointed to find it was just a work email. Then my smile fell away as I saw he was requesting the same contracts as Mr. Black. I picked up Mr. Black's notes and compared, hoping it was a coincidence. It wasn't though. They both wanted the same work sent to them. Mr. Stone had written he wanted the work by 3pm and I was to drop everything else.

Just then another emailed appeared. This was from Mr. Black.

Hope you enjoy the bacon!

Sorry to ask but the meeting has been pulled forward. Can you get that material to me by 2pm?

There was a smiley face at the bottom
of his email. It didn't match the expression on my face.

What in the hell was going on?

*

At five minutes to two
I sent off the work to Mr. Black and then Mr. Stone. Let them both have it at the same time and sort out whatever was happening. I sent it off and then escaped the office, taking a late lunch which was really just a snack because I was still full from the bacon breakfast Mr. Black had sent up.

I was sitting in the park, half-heartedly eating a sandwich and staring at nothing when I felt my phone buzz
. It was a message telling me to go to an address a few blocks away. I stopped eating my sandwich as the small amount of appetite I had vanished.

The address was still out in public so I was fairly sure I wasn't going to be kidnapped and taken away forever. I debated not going even as I stood up and threw my sandwich away.

As I walked down the street I started to get angry. Who the fuck were these people who thought they knew me?

Yeah, they had a photo and yeah, that building did burn down but there was a long way between one thing and the other and it was circumstantial at best.

By the time I reached the address I was fuming, ready to punch, kick, bite or scream at anyone who approached me. All my rage collapsed when a little girl, no more than five, tugged on my sleeve. She handed me a yellow envelope, smiled at me and then ran off. I stood there with my mouth open as she vanished into the crowd and by the time I got my thoughts together enough to realize I should have followed her, she was long gone.

I opened the envelope and took out the single piece of paper within.

You will find and destroy the hardcopy of the following documents

The list ran down the page and continued on the other side. At the bottom was a small clipped image of me holding the Molotov next to the instruction to send "I understand" again. I scanned through the list seeing
some contracts I had already looked up.

This was it? They wanted me to destroy hard copies of contracts that already existed in digital form? What was the point?

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