Billionaire Brothers 2 : Love Has A Name (33 page)

“And you just accepted everything?” Tish butted in, as I regaled Trudy of last night to this morning’s events.

We were at Natalio’s commercial shoot, and Trudy and I were blabbing our faces off as a make-up artist did retouches in an attempt to conceal Lovello’s most recent bite marks. Trudy’s boss, my lover, had granted her request to leave at noon so she could come to the shoot. Advantages.

Though we ignored Tish, she prodded on, “Doesn’t that make you feel —”

“Cheap? Like she wants him for his money?” Trudy snapped, before Tish could finish or I could even answer. She was a tad more acidic than necessary, and the tension between her and Tish all day hadn’t gone unnoticed. But I’d merely pretended not to notice, because I conjectured that Tish had started hitting on Trudy and Trudy was probably annoyed by it. Whatever it was, I wasn’t about to ask. “In case you haven’t noticed, my friend’s worth millions. She doesn’t
need
Nelson’s money. If there’s something Nelson can afford that she can’t, her daddy can!”

Tish’s face grew ashen. “I-I didn’t mean … I’m only —”

“It’s okay, Tish,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Trudy who was firing ice pellets at Tish with her eyes. Something major had gone down between these two. “I’m not the type of girl who cries, ‘oh, I can’t take this. It’s too much’ or ‘you shouldn’t buy me stuff, it makes me feel cheap’. Why? Because it’s obvious to the man that I’m independent and can afford whatever I want. Therefore, if he buys me something, it’s because he wants to do something nice for me, not because he pities me. And to turn down his effort is an insult.” I uncorked a bottle of vitamin water and took a few gulps, then continued. “What most women don’t seem to understand is that a man
needs
to feel like
the
man. And sometimes just throwing your arms around him with a resounding ‘thank you’, or even feigned excitement with whispered words like ‘you’ve made me the happiest woman in the world’ is just what a man needs from a woman, so he can buff his chest and feel like the
man
that he is. You don’t ever want a man to feel like he’s helpless with you. He’ll only leave or cheat on you with the woman who makes him feel like Hercules. Like the king of her world.”

“Amen!” sang the stylist over my head, causing everyone to direct their stares towards her. She rolled her large eyes and gave an exaggerated shake of her pixie-haired head. “That’s exactly what I’d been trying to tell a friend of mine, but she wouldn’t listen. Waiting tables and living in a dingy ass apartment, she’d been fortunate enough to catch the eyes of a self-made millionaire. And every goddamn time the man buys her something, she whines about how cheap it makes her feel and that she thinks he’s pitying her, blah blah blah. He tries to buy her an apartment and not even that the stupid woman would accept. The man soon got fed up and left her for a struggling model who was all too willing to accept everything he had to offer. I swear some girls are just
dumb
. Don’t know a blessing when it comes.”

The stylist seemed peeved beyond measurement, as if she wished it was her who’d met the man. Trudy and my gazes met as we stifled our laughs. “I know right, so dumb,” I said for humor, which made Trudy burst into a fit of giggles.

The director hollered for me and I was off to shooting again.

On my third break, where I was finally allowed to eat — yeah, I’d been restricted from eating because they claimed it would make my stomach look ‘bloated’ — I resumed chattering with Trudy in order to take my mind off the annoying demands of this shoot. But not much later I was being aggravated when a certain person appeared.

“Hi there, stepdaughter.”

Dressing my features in a full-on scowl, I raised my gaze to the vanity mirror in front of me to meet the eyes of the bumptious Trevillo who was standing behind my chair with his face smothered in smugness. “Hello,
dick
.”

Leaning down, he placed his hands on either side of the vanity, caging me, then rested his chin on my shoulder with his eyes still locked on mine in the mirror, as he tutted. “You need to have a bit more respect for your elders, little lady. I could be your real stepfather one day, you know.”

I jerked my shoulders in a back-the-hell-up gesture. That only served to make him emit a sinister-like chuckle as he grabbed a firm fistful of my hair, tugged my head backward and stared down at me with a nefarious gleam in his eyes. “If you weren’t already my brother’s, I’d tether you up on that lovely wooden cross in my bedroom and show you just how much of a
woman
you are, and just how much of a
man
I am.”

Tearing his hand away from my hair, I shot up to my feet and spun around to face him. He was almost a foot taller than me, but I wasn’t intimidated. “Do you
really
want to prove how much of a man you are, Nelson?”

Trudy emitted a long sigh behind me, accompanied by an “oh dear”. In that same minute, Natalio barged into the room demanding to know what’s the deal. But neither Trevillo nor I glanced in his direction. Trevillo was gazing down at me with mild amusement, while I was glaring up at him with pure hatred.

“What do you have in mind, little miss? I have a penthouse just two blocks away. Chains, cuffs, whips and all that shit, baby. Just for
you
.”

“What the hell, Trev?” Natalio shouted.

But he was yet again ignored.

“That sounds
very
tempting, Kinky Boy,” I smooth-talked. “But first, you have to earn that luxury.”

Trudy, ahead of everyone else in knowing exactly where this was heading, had disappeared, and was now bustling back into the room with the help of some unknown guy as they shoved a high-table between us. Trevillo glanced down at the table with a quizzical lift of his brow.

“If you can beat me in an arm-wrestle, then you get to show me the many other ways you’re a ‘man’.”

Trevillo looked at me with incredulity, then shifted his eyes over to Natalio. But Natalio merely folded his arms and leaned back against the wall, ready for the show. Trevillo shifted his eyes back to me and burst out laughing. “You want to challenge
me
into an arm-wrestle? Are you serious?”

When I folded my arms across my chest without so much as a hint of humor, Trevillo noted my seriousness and shrugged, removing his jacket and pushing his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. “Okay. You asked for it. My little brother can kiss that sexy roun’ ass of yours goodbye.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
Men:
always feeling the need to put on a show. Cricking of the neck from side to side, muscling up the arms, cricking the fingers. Ugh. So typical.

Natalio shuffled in his pocket for his cellphone as he laughed. “This has got to be recorded. Better not lose, Trev, or I’ll
ruin
you with this video.”

Already set in position, I waited for Trevillo to complete his pointless warm-up. By this time, everyone had gathered around in the dressing room, phones pointing towards us. But Tish and Trudy merely sat back with knowing smirks on their faces. They knew this was my forte.

Trevillo finally set his arm in place, clasping his hand with mine. Trudy counted down, and set us off. Planting a smile on my face, I watched as Trevillo channeled all his energy in the aim of bringing my hand down, lacking the knowledge that the trick was to stay concentrated on keeping his hand stationed upright. When his veins started bulging and he began straining, I knew his strength was almost out. This was the time to take him down. “Make sure you get this, Natalio,” I squeezed out. And in one go, I slammed Trevillo’s hand down.

The room erupted into a disbelieving clamor, while Trevillo shouted, “Rematch!”

“Really?” I snorted.
Men:
they could never own up to losing. Heaving a sigh, I repositioned my hand. “Okay. But lemme give you a tip so it can feel more like a
challenge
this time. Concentrate, Kinky Boy. Concentrate. Think palm tree against the storm. They bend, but they never break.”

Trevillo narrowed his wicked blue eyes at me, looking way too hot with his new determined expression. These brothers were unrighteously gorgeous. It wasn’t fair to women.

Realizing that my mind had drifted out of the game, I quickly snapped a lid on my wayward thoughts. Trevillo clasped my hand again, his eyes locked on mine, his sharp jaws clenched. He had a new aim.

Trudy counted down again and set us off.

Trevillo came much stronger this time around, staying focused. Great, now it was beginning to feel like a challenge. Our gazes locked, his blue eyes flashing with a gleam of something indescribable. He then revealed a devilish smile, licked his full, sculpted lips and winked at me.

Mierda
. My breath hitched and my hand faltered a bit, but I hurriedly gathered my wits. Was he trying to use his smoking hotness to distract me? Suddenly I felt murky for being affected by my lover’s brother. This needed to end. “Playtime’s over, Kinky Boy,” I whispered — but it shouldn’t have been a whisper — in a voice that shouldn’t have been raspy.

I slammed his hand down on the table, much harder than necessary, and turned my back to him in the same second. The room erupted again, everyone seemingly oblivious to the peculiarity of the last sixty seconds — everyone except Trudy who was glaring at me with a “what the hell?” expression.

Grabbing my half-drunk vitamin water from the vanity, I quaffed the remaining liquid then chanced a backward glance at Trevillo, only to find him staring straight at me. A serious expression on his face, with a slight frown line jagged across his forehead as he slowly pulled down his shirtsleeves. He knew exactly what had happened, and seemed to be just as befuddled as I was.

Almost imperceptibly, he tilted his head in question. And I returned a subtle shake of my head to send a message that said “not at all”. I was positively, unequivocally, one hundred percent, head over heels in love with Lovello Nelson.

The deep, resounding sound of Natalio’s voice rocked through our silent conversing like a roll of thunder instantly followed by a strike of lightning. “Trev! C’mon, we need to
talk
.”

Both our gazes shot to Natalio who was nailing Trevillo with a death-glare. And I was all too eager to get back in action when the director yelled for me.

The commercial shoot was overwhelming, and I was growing dreary and drained and ready for it to be over. Alas, there was one last segment before I was free. Once again, I slumped down into the stylist’s chair while she made a fuss of me. Trudy looked bummed, too, as she swept into the dressing room with Tish behind her yammering in pleading tones. I’d warned her but she didn’t listen, and now Tish was being as annoying as constant dripping.

Trudy plopped down beside me with raised eyebrows that said she was waiting for me to give her some explanation about the Trevillo spectacle. But there was nothing to tell. Some dumb shit happened and it’s now forgotten. At that moment, I was yearning for Lovello. He hadn’t called or messaged me all day and with every tick of the clock, I missed him harder.

In the same second that I reached for my handbag to retrieve my cellphone, the director’s assistant strolled into the room with two burly security guards in tow, one brandishing a rifle. They came up to me and I ran my eyes over them, wondering what on earth this was about.

“Miss Axia Blacksille?” the taller security rumbled.

“Yes?”

“We’re from Mic Securities. We have a delivery for you and we’d like for you to sign here, please.” He thrust a small monitor towards me.

As I scribbled my signature across the screen, I asked, “So what’s with the rifle for a simple delivery?”

The security took the monitor when I handed it back to him and nodded to the other guy. He unlocked what looked like a steel briefcase, withdrew a small, black case and handed it to me. “It’s just orders, ma’am. Any valuables passing half a million dollars have to be heavily secured and delivered.”

Over half a million? What the hell? From who? My fingers instinctively tightened around the case in a protective gesture. “And this is valued at … ?”

“1.1 million, ma’am.”

“Holy shit!” Trudy exclaimed, while the stylist started coughing uncontrollably over my head.

I, on the other hand, held my composure. I was going to kick Zane’s ass if it was him again. “Okay. Thank you.”

The guards nodded and bounced out of the room, while Trudy, Tish and the stylist all leaned in with wide eyes, burning with impatience for me to open the case.

“Would you guys just back the hell up?” I laughed, and they all crackled, too.

Sliding the black velvet covering from over the case, I opened it and found a smaller velvet case. My eyes were almost blinded when I opened the smaller case.

“Sweet Baby Jesus, the Star and the Three Wise Men,” Trudy whispered.

It was a
Chopard
white-gold watch, square-faced and covered entirely, dial and all, in baguette diamonds. It was exquisite, extravagant, extraordinary. An over-the-top piece of jewelry that some leggy, red-carpet socialite should be wearing. I wasn’t a jewelry person, especially a
million-dollar
jewelry person. I espied a slim note sticking out from the corner of the larger case that read: