The Billionaire’s Secret Love (A 'Scandals of the Bad Boy Billionaires' Romance) by Alexa Wilder, Ivy Layne
Authors: Alexa Wilder, Ivy Layne
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in my place, I shoved my hands in my pockets and said, “Since this morning, but it didn't last very long, thanks to you."
Jacob went around to the other side of his desk and shoved the envelope and picture in a drawer, slamming it shut. “I’m not going to talk about the picture. Not yet. Come back in the kitchen," he said. "It's been a long fucking morning, and I'm starving."
"Fine." I followed him back to the kitchen, where the woman, now wearing a linen shift dress and sandals, was making Jacob a sandwich similar to the one she'd made for me. Looking between her and my cousin I said, “Are you going to introduce us?"
I wasn't expecting to see Jacob walk up behind her and slide his arm around her waist, dropping a gentle kiss on her neck just below her ear. She murmured something to him and he answered, but I couldn't hear what they said.
"Abigail, you've met my cousin, Tate. Tate, this is Abigail Jordan. She's my guest, and while she's here, security has been tightened."
"It's nice to meet you, Abigail," I said, smiling at her. To Jacob, without a smile, I said, “Where have you been all morning? What happened in the garage?"
Jacob took the coffee Abigail handed him and sipped before he said, "Abigail had an unfortunate situation that is none of your business. As part of that situation, someone tried to shoot me in the garage this morning. We're still not sure exactly how he got in, but he's in police custody and I'm fine. When she got here, I increased security, but I did it quietly because we didn't want to broadcast her location. After this morning, that's no longer a concern."
"The Sinclairs are on it?" I asked. Jacob nodded.
“You, Holden, and the other residents will get a brief this afternoon. Traffic in and out of the garage will be personally checked. It's going to be slow, but it should prevent the kind of scene you dealt with this morning."
“And you're not going to tell me why someone was shooting at you?" I asked.
Abigail started to speak, but Jacob flashed a glance in her direction and she stopped, biting her lip as if to prevent any sound from leaking out.
"It's not your business," Jacob repeated. "Despite what happened this morning, I don't want anyone to know Abigail is here, so don't tell Holden or your brothers."
Wanting to mess with him a little, I said, “What about your brothers?” I knew that if Abigail were a secret, he definitely wouldn't want Aidan to know. Aiden was the oldest of all of us, the patriarch of the family now that our parents were dead, and he was both nosy and bossy. If Abigail was a secret, Jacob definitely wouldn't want Aidan to know about her. Showing signs of temper for the first time, Jacob said, “Don't fucking tell Aidan anything."
Interrupting us, Abigail asked, “Your girlfriend broke up with you because of what happened in the garage?"
"Because of the reporters," I said. "They were like a pack of wolves, shouting and taking pictures. Emily has problems with anxiety and panic attacks, and it was too much. She freaked out, and then she broke up with me."
Jacob didn't say anything, just narrowed his eyes, but Abigail frowned and considered before she said, “Did she freak out, or did she have a panic attack?"
"She had a panic attack," I admitted. "It was pretty bad." So bad, I couldn't get it out of my head. Her face had been white, sweat pouring down her skin, her body shaking so hard she could barely stand up. Listening to her struggle to breathe on the short car ride to her apartment had been torture.
"I had a friend in college who had panic attacks," Abigail said quietly. "I always felt terrible for her when they happened."
Somehow, Abigail's quiet acceptance made me feel the need to explain. “Emily was a victim in a mass shooting when she was a kid, the only survivor, and the media was relentless. She said the panic attacks started because of that."
"We know what that's like," Jacob said, meeting my eyes. We did know. The attention had
Jacob went around to the other side of his desk and shoved the envelope and picture in a drawer, slamming it shut. “I’m not going to talk about the picture. Not yet. Come back in the kitchen," he said. "It's been a long fucking morning, and I'm starving."
"Fine." I followed him back to the kitchen, where the woman, now wearing a linen shift dress and sandals, was making Jacob a sandwich similar to the one she'd made for me. Looking between her and my cousin I said, “Are you going to introduce us?"
I wasn't expecting to see Jacob walk up behind her and slide his arm around her waist, dropping a gentle kiss on her neck just below her ear. She murmured something to him and he answered, but I couldn't hear what they said.
"Abigail, you've met my cousin, Tate. Tate, this is Abigail Jordan. She's my guest, and while she's here, security has been tightened."
"It's nice to meet you, Abigail," I said, smiling at her. To Jacob, without a smile, I said, “Where have you been all morning? What happened in the garage?"
Jacob took the coffee Abigail handed him and sipped before he said, "Abigail had an unfortunate situation that is none of your business. As part of that situation, someone tried to shoot me in the garage this morning. We're still not sure exactly how he got in, but he's in police custody and I'm fine. When she got here, I increased security, but I did it quietly because we didn't want to broadcast her location. After this morning, that's no longer a concern."
"The Sinclairs are on it?" I asked. Jacob nodded.
“You, Holden, and the other residents will get a brief this afternoon. Traffic in and out of the garage will be personally checked. It's going to be slow, but it should prevent the kind of scene you dealt with this morning."
“And you're not going to tell me why someone was shooting at you?" I asked.
Abigail started to speak, but Jacob flashed a glance in her direction and she stopped, biting her lip as if to prevent any sound from leaking out.
"It's not your business," Jacob repeated. "Despite what happened this morning, I don't want anyone to know Abigail is here, so don't tell Holden or your brothers."
Wanting to mess with him a little, I said, “What about your brothers?” I knew that if Abigail were a secret, he definitely wouldn't want Aidan to know. Aiden was the oldest of all of us, the patriarch of the family now that our parents were dead, and he was both nosy and bossy. If Abigail was a secret, Jacob definitely wouldn't want Aidan to know about her. Showing signs of temper for the first time, Jacob said, “Don't fucking tell Aidan anything."
Interrupting us, Abigail asked, “Your girlfriend broke up with you because of what happened in the garage?"
"Because of the reporters," I said. "They were like a pack of wolves, shouting and taking pictures. Emily has problems with anxiety and panic attacks, and it was too much. She freaked out, and then she broke up with me."
Jacob didn't say anything, just narrowed his eyes, but Abigail frowned and considered before she said, “Did she freak out, or did she have a panic attack?"
"She had a panic attack," I admitted. "It was pretty bad." So bad, I couldn't get it out of my head. Her face had been white, sweat pouring down her skin, her body shaking so hard she could barely stand up. Listening to her struggle to breathe on the short car ride to her apartment had been torture.
"I had a friend in college who had panic attacks," Abigail said quietly. "I always felt terrible for her when they happened."
Somehow, Abigail's quiet acceptance made me feel the need to explain. “Emily was a victim in a mass shooting when she was a kid, the only survivor, and the media was relentless. She said the panic attacks started because of that."
"We know what that's like," Jacob said, meeting my eyes. We did know. The attention had
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