BetweenTwoBillionairesCompleteStripped (10 page)

I wander around
aimlessly, checking out the expensive leather and mahogany furniture
and admiring the art on the walls. He seems to have a thing for
pictures of flowers, which shouldn't be so surprising, considering
how romantic he is. The general color scheme for the house is mostly
white with a hint of brown. It's contemporary and clean looking.

I walk into the
sitting room and find a shelf with pictures on it. It's the first
sign of anything personal in the entire house. I stroll up to it with
a smile on my face, expecting to see his family. I can't help but
wonder if they're all as attractive as he is.

The
first picture I come across is one of Tristan with a red-headed
woman. She's smiling brightly and has her arms draped around his
neck. At first glance, I imagine she's probably a cousin or maybe his
sister. But then as I go down the line, I see other pictures of her.
Pictures of them holding hands. Pictures taken in a photo studio.
Pictures of them sitting together on a sofa and him slipping a ring
onto her finger. There are so many pictures of her. In fact, every
picture on the shelf is of either her or the two of them together. It
doesn't take long for everything to click into place. The son of a
bitch is married.

Between Two Billionaires

Part Two

Table of Contents

Chapter
1

Chapter
2

Chapter
3

Chapter
4

Chapter
5

CHAPTER ONE

My fingers tremble
as I reach up to take one of the pictures off the shelf. The one I
want depicts Tristan down on one knee, sliding an engagement ring on
the red-headed girl's finger. There's a Christmas tree in the
background and wrapping paper all around them. It looks like it was a
magical time for them.

This woman. I've
betrayed her, and I don't even know who she is. My heart aches from
that realization. I never meant to do this. I never mean any of it.

“
Good
morning, beautiful,” a man's voice says behind me. Not
Tristan's voice.

I'm so startled that
I drop the picture. The frame hits the tile floor and the glass
protecting the photo shatters. I cringe. Tristan is going to be
pissed. Pissed that I broke one of his matching picture frames.
Pissed that I discovered his secret.

“
I'm
sorry,” the voice says.

I'm on my knees,
trying to pick up the pieces of the frame, hoping I can hide it long
enough to get the hell out of this house. I turn my face towards the
person who was speaking to me. My eyes land on a wall of lean hard
muscle, an unfamiliar man wearing only a pair of black boxer shorts.
He's tall and handsome, with mussy hair that's almost black and eyes
just as dark. He kneels beside me to help pick up the pieces of the
broken frame, and I find myself staring at him. Who is this guy?

“
I
didn't mean to startle you.” He takes the frame from my hand
and sighs at it. “This is the last one. We'll probably have to
replace the whole set now.” He slides it back up onto the shelf
by the rest of the pictures.

I stand and give him
a curious look, completely confused. “I'm sorry, but who are
you?”

He huffs
incredulously, “I guess Bonehead didn't tell you about me.”

I wrap my arms
around myself protectively, trying to keep in all the horrible
emotion raging through me. This is not the best time for me to be
meeting someone new.

“
I'm
Shawn, Tristan's brother. I'm guessing he also didn't bother to tell
you that I live here too.” He rolls his eyes, but it's not
directed at me.

“
He
didn't.” I shake my head. Tristan obviously didn't tell me a
lot of things.

“
Well,
he told me he had a guest, so I figured I best be hospitable and
introduce myself.” He makes it sound like a chore.

It doesn't matter.
After today, I'll never see Tristan again. How can I possibly live
with what I've done? A tremor of pain races through me, striking
straight at my heart. My life has been nothing but one mistake after
another ever since I met Ethel. I know it's not her fault, but I need
someone to blame.

If it wasn't for her
father dating my mother, I never would have left Catholic school and
been put into public school. I never would have been peer pressured
into skipping class and doing other stupid stuff to try to fit in,
and ruin my chance to get a scholarship. If her and her father had
never come into my life, I wouldn't have to be working as hard as I
am now to get ahead. And I never would have gone to that stupid party
and met Tristan. I never would have lost my virginity to such a
horrible man.

“
I
see you met Kelly.” Shawn stares at one of the photos.

“
Is
that her name?” my tone darkens with bitterness.

“
Yeah.
She was something else.” He grins, probably recalling a memory.

“
It
looks like Tristan loves her very much.” Tears sear my eyes,
and I do my best to fight them back. Love. I thought I knew what that
was. I don't though. That's blatantly obvious. I got caught up in the
sweet words and romance of it all. I was too stupid to see I was
being led on.

“
He
does love her. He always will.” There's a sadness in his eyes
that seems misplaced.

“
So
where is she now?” I hate myself for asking, but I feel like I
need to know.

“
Dead,”
he replies shortly.

“
Oh.”
Relief rushes through me. It's coupled by guilt from being glad that
she's dead, glad that everything I just tortured myself over was all
for nothing. “How did she die?”

He turns to look at
me. “We don't talk about that.”

“
Breakfast
is ready,” Tristan announces as he pads through the house
towards us. My heart leaps into my throat as I realize he's probably
going to see that I broke the picture frame. If he doesn't, then
Shawn will likely rat me out.

I give Shawn a
pleading look, but he just stares at me, emotionless. His eyes are so
cold. A shiver rolls down my spine from the intensity of his gaze.

Tristan rounds the
corner with a smile on his face. “There you are. I was
wondering where you ran off to.” He walks past me and places a
hand on Shawn's shoulder. “I see you've met my brother.”

“
You
never told me he lives here with you.”

They couldn't look
anymore different. Well, maybe they could if they were like Ethel and
I, different ethnicities, but as far as biological brothers, they
definitely don't look like they came from the same batch. Tristan is
stocky and thick with muscle, while Shawn has more of a swimmer's
build. Tristan is blonde with light blue eyes, while Shawn's features
are dark. Tristan is warm and affectionate, while Shawn seems a bit
cold. They're both sinfully attractive though. That's one thing they
definitely have in common.

“
It
must have slipped my mind.” Tristan flashes me a charming grin,
and all is forgiven.

“
I
need to buy you a new set of picture frames,” Shawn mentions
out of the blue. My stomach twists with the realization that he's
about to tattle on me. Then Tristan will get pissed, and it will all
be over. I bite my bottom lip, staring into Shawn's eyes, silently
begging him not to say anything. I know it's already too late though.
He picks up the broken picture frame, showing it to Tristan. “I
accidentally knocked it off the shelf, and it broke.”

Tristan frowns, and
I'm able to breathe again. Shawn lied for me. He actually lied for
me. I can't believe it.

“
Mistakes
happen,” Tristan says, though he's obviously not pleased about
it.

“
They
do.” Shawn's eyes sweep over his brother. The way they act
together is a bit strange, but perhaps it's just because I don't know
them. It seems almost like they're holding a silent conversation.

Finally, Tristan
looks at me and forces a smile. “Well, we should go eat before
the food gets cold.”

I nod timidly,
following them into the dining room.

“
You
never told me your name,” Shawn says back to me.

“
Sarah.
It's Sarah.”

“
Alright,
Sarah,” and that's the end of conversation until we reach the
dining room.

The meal is awkward.
Tristan seats and serves us, and Shawn and I wait without so much as
a word. When Tristan joins us, it's like I don't even exist anymore.
The two guys talk about the business trip Shawn just came back from.
Apparently, he arrived by private jet around midnight. We were both
asleep by then. Their business talk makes little sense to me, so I
simply sit quietly and enjoy my food. Eggs Benedict with
fresh-squeezed orange juice juice and a side of hash browns. I swear,
I could marry Tristan just over his cooking. It's delicious. A man
who can cook like this is a rare commodity.

Once the meal is
finished, Shawn excuses himself to return to his room. He says he
woke up early just to introduce himself to me. That must mean Tristan
sent him a text about me at some point. It's an endearing thought.
Maybe Tristan really was sincere about everything he said to me. I
can only hope.

“
So
what do you think of him?” Tristan asks me once Shawn is out of
earshot.

“
He's
nice.” I don't know what else he expects me to say. It's his
brother. I wouldn't speak ill against him, especially since I really
want to try to stay in Tristan's life.

“
He's
a little rough around the edges, but that's part of his appeal.”
Tristan leans back in his chair, staring out towards the living room
as if he can see Shawn through the walls.

“
Have
you guys always lived together?” I ask, wanting to change the
subject.

“
Yeah.
Ever since we were out of foster care.” He stands to take our
plates to the kitchen.

“
Foster
care?” I repeat.

“
Yeah.
Our parents died when we were teenagers,” he says
matter-of-factually as he rinses the dishes off in the sink. “Our
only living relative was an aunt who was a drug addict, so we were
put in foster care until she sobered up enough to take care of us.
That never happened.” He shakes his head. “We were just
lucky she didn't kill herself with an overdose until the day after
Shawn turned eighteen.” The way he says it doesn't sound lucky
at all.

I twist around in my
chair to face him. “How did they die?”

“
Plane
crash,” he lets out a short laugh. “You'd think it
wouldn't be a business Shawn and I would have gotten into after that,
but Shawn has my father's obsession with planes. He likes to fly
them, work on them, build them. I prefer to keep my feet on the
ground, doing more of the businessy stuff.”

“
I'm
not a big fan of planes either,” I admit, thinking about how
much I dislike flying. It always makes me sick to my stomach no
matter how much medicine I take beforehand to counteract the effects.
Luckily, I haven't had to fly much in my short life.

“
Well
then, that's something we have in common.” He smiles
absentmindedly as he finishes putting the dishes in the dishwasher. I
sit there silently and fidget until Tristan returns to the table. He
has two bottles of water, and he hands one over to me before sitting
down. “So, Sarah, tell me a little more about yourself. I know
you live in a mixed family. I know you have fairly traditional
values. And I know you're a good dancer. But I don't know anything
else about you.”

The way he recites
all he remembers about me makes me blush. He's so observant. Still
perfect.

“
Well,
you also know I work at a coffee shop,” I begin.

“
I
do.” He nods.

“
I'm
working there to save up for college.”