Billionaires in New York Boxed Set: Billionaires in the City Books 1-3 by Laura Burton (learn to read books .TXT) 📕

his eyes. “I told you not to get involved. But you can’t help yourself, can you? Eddie, you are a lost cause.”

Edward shrugged.

“I wanted to punch his lights out,” he said, his fist clenching automatically at the memory. “He’s a lousy, good-for-nothing, low-life.”

“Why did you meet him?”

“Sam, he’s been following her. She’s afraid of him and I wanted to––”

“Put the fear of God in him?” Sam cocked a brow at him and gave Edward a wry smile.

“Something like that.”

“So, what happened?”

Edward recounted his conversation with Calvin as Sam did bicep curls on the bench. He nodded along in thought and grunted as Edward finished.

“That’s it now. Right? You’re going to leave her alone.”

Edward scoffed and got to his feet. His private gym had already been cluttered with Sam’s belongings. Socks littered the floor, empty bottles sat like trophies beside the equipment and a pile of workout clothes sat wrinkled on his exercise bike.

“Look, about this deal,” he began frankly. Sam wagged a finger at him.

“We shook on it. A gentleman’s agreement. Don’t try to weasel your way out of this one,” he said, his eyes gleaming. Edward sighed.

“Fine, keep the penthouse. I’ll buy a new one. But for goodness sake, get a maid, will you?”

“Great minds have messy houses,” Sam said wisely. Edward scratched the back of his neck. The sight of all the clutter in his penthouse suite made him anxious.

“The deal is off, but I don’t want her to know who I am.” He gave Sam a hard look. “So, keep your mouth shut.”

Sam gave a salute and looked at him with amusement.

“You’re still worried she’ll only love you for money? This is Anthony’s cousin we’re talking about.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Edward strode over to the window and rested his hands on his hips.

“Eddie, she’s a world-class opera singer. Do you really think she cares about money?”

Edward turned away from the window and looked at Sam in thought, but he didn’t really see him. Instead, his mind played out memories of his date with Catherine. After he told her that his work was secret, she didn’t press the matter. And she never pushed him to buy her things. Women in the past, would have acted coy, but dropped not-so-subtle hints at gifts they would like him to buy. Catherine was different, but telling her, ‘Hey, by the way, I belong to the richest family in America. We own the Marks hotel chain and my grandmother lives on Martha’s Vineyard,’ sounded too shallow and ostentatious.

Truth be told, Edward liked being Edward the mechanic, not Edward the spoilt billionaire. But if things were to escalate with Calvin, he would need his security team back.

“This is a mess.” Edward pulled on his boxing gloves and pummelled the bag as it swung side to side to release his pent-up frustration.

“Well, you better figure it out soon. We need to get ready for tonight,” Sam said, prompting Edward to look at his watch. He chewed the inside of his cheek in thought and nodded back.

Edward checked his phone. No messages.

“Can I get another drink?” he muttered to the bartender, as he leaned against the granite counter. A pint glass full of lemonade appeared in front of him, he took it and turned to look at the stage.

Almost every table in the club was taken with guests that were either talking, drinking, or listening to the band. Sam sat in the forefront with his guitar, one foot stretched out and the other resting on the bottom of the stool. He gave a casual smile to the crowd as he tapped his boot to the beat and sang into the microphone.

Edward could also play the guitar. His father thought it would be a good skill to have, to romance young ladies with. Unfortunately, Edward had never built the courage to perform in front of people. Not even David, his own brother, knew he could play. Edward imagined the turmoil he would be in if he had to sit on the stage and perform to all these people. He inwardly shuddered, then a flash of movement to his side caught his eye. He turned, and all his fear gave way to a warmth in his soul. It was like he had stepped out into a sunny garden and all was calm and right in the world.

Catherine Fisher approached him. Her thick hair hung loose and wavy to her shoulders and she wore a dark, figure-hugging, knee-length dress with ankle boots and a leather jacket. He wanted to take her away on the back of a motorcycle.

“Hey there beautiful,” he shouted over the music as he kissed her on the cheek. Catherine’s eyes widened and darted about the room before she pressed a hand against his chest. He was certain she would feel his racing heartbeat against her fingers. He licked his lips instinctively and imagined wrapping his arms around her small frame and pulling her in for a breath-taking kiss.

“We need to talk,” she said urgently. She pushed him harder, and Edward frowned as he staggered back. She frogmarched him to a dark corner of the room, away from the entrance and mass of people.

“Stop pushing me. If you wanted to have your wicked way with me, all you have to do is ask.” Edward flashed her a grin, but his smile faded at the sight of her eyes rolling.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sensing a change to her mood. He thought the fact she had come to the show meant that she wanted to see him, but something was off about her body language, and her eyes were flying around the room every few seconds. “Have you heard from Calvin?”

Catherine’s serious face turned to shock.

“How did you know about that?” She shook her head. “Forget it. We need to get out of here. You’re not safe.”

“I’m not safe?” Edward asked incredulously. He wanted to laugh but the fire in Catherine’s eyes made him resist.

“What exactly is going on?” he asked. But Catherine took