Wicked Submission (Scandalous Billionaires #9) Read Online Lisa Renee Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Scandalous Billionaires Series by Lisa Renee Jones
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Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 138522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
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We live.

I fucking love how easily she merges our worlds. “I don’t think we should hide our relationship,” I say sitting on the corner of her desk as she claims her chair. “As we discussed, you’re it, baby. You’re the one launching our much-needed charity division for the company. If someone tries to throw stones at you, they’re going to look like shit. Besides, Reid and his wife work together. But we’ll handle us how you want to handle us with the staff.”

My cellphone rings and I snag it from my pocket and glance at the Caller ID. “Reese,” I say, answering on speaker. “You have me and Abbie on the line.”

“Just what I hoped for,” he says. “Listen, I’m going into court, but I got some news. Blake got off-the-record word on an arrest being made today. A man named Neal, who was doing some work for Kenneth. Apparently, Kenneth was cutting him out of the new complex which meant cutting him out of big money. Neal killed him before he could make the cut.”

“I knew Neal,” Abbie says, sitting up straighter. “He did dirty work for Kenneth. I know he did. I overhead conversations.”

“And Neal knows you,” Reese replies. “Law enforcement believes that he used a wig to make the murder look like you did it but the crime scene was too professional for that to fly. I have to go, but hang tight for more news. Once the arrest is made, Blake or myself will update you both.”

“Will we still be interviewed?” Abbie asks quickly.

“I’ll know more soon,” Reese says. “I suspect we’ll know a lot of things today.”

He says a hasty goodbye and then disconnects. My phone immediately buzzes with a text and I glance down to find a message from Reid: Two plus two does not equal four. I’m headed to the coffee shop now.

My jaw tenses at an old saying my father used to use when telling us to look beyond the obvious. In other words, my father’s involved.

“Gabe? Something wrong?”

I shove my phone back in my pocket. “Reid is waiting on me to talk about the agreement with Jean Claude. And as for what’s wrong? It sounds like a lot of right, baby.”

“Could this really be over?” Abbie asks hopefully.

I stand and pull her to her feet. “It will be soon,” I say, stroking her cheek. “And then you’ll be free to fall in love with me.”

“I told you. I will not fall in love with you, Gabe.”

“And I will not fall in love with you, Abbie.”

We smile and it’s a united smile, one that says we both know this is a game. One we both win. “Call your mom. Make sure she knows what’s going on. Find us a shelter location. Let’s save some animals while we’re not falling in love.”

“I like that idea.”

“Good. I need to take care of Jean Claude, among other things. I’ll be back soon.” I kiss her hand and head to the door, with the intent of meeting up with Reid. Kenneth’s murder might be solved, but another problem is not. My father.

“Gabe,” Abbie says, as I’m about to open the door.

I pause, and I know without looking at her that she read me, when I thought she hadn’t. I glance over my shoulder. “Yes?”

“You aren’t your father. Don’t forget that.”

My jaw clenches. Yes. She knows. She damn sure knows that I’m after blood and my father. “No,” I say, agreeing with her. “I’m not like my father.” And with that, I leave. She’s right. I’m not my father. I don’t hurt people for personal gain. I don’t turn my back on those I care about and I’m not going to start now.

Abbie’s the reason this is over for my father.

She’s the reason he won’t be able to hurt anyone else.

She’s the best thing that ever happened to me and anyone who has ever known my father.

Chapter eighty-eight

Gabe

I’m barely out of Abbie’s office when Lulu steps in front of me. “You had an interesting time while I was gone, I see.”

“Not now. I need to go.”

“I’ll walk with you,” she says, as she often does. “I have a few messages for you.”

“Save them. Get rid of them. No time for them. But yes. Walk with me.”

She nods, and we fall into step, but we don’t speak until we’re on the elevator alone. “Yes, I’m seeing Abbie. We’re moving in together. No, I don’t want anyone to know until she wants them to know. That’s Abbie’s call.”

“You don’t like staying silent about it,” she observes. “She’ll come out of the closet when she trusts you. Not until.”

I feel that assessment as accurate and painful. She wants to trust me. Some part of her does trust me, but her ex was horrible to her. He burned her. Time builds trust. We need time that’s about our life as normal human beings, not murder suspects. “You know about—”



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