Billion Dollar Revenge (The Lincoln Brothers #2)

2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Evan

There are no weekends at my newspaper company, The New York Press. I’m in my office, approving the breaking news about the new Royal wedding scandal involving the princess and her bodyguard.

All hands are on deck for this story. Normally, Shyla handles all the work-related articles, but I haven’t had a major scandal like this in years, so I’m taking the lead on this one.

I’ve been at work since four a.m., and I’ll be here until I head to my brother Oliver’s for poker at seven.

I stare down at the article that needs finalizing in the next two minutes so it can go to print on time.

As I examine the picture and the article, I immediately hate the layout. The picture isn’t right; it seems blurry, and their faces need to be clearer.

I pick up my phone and dial my personal assistant, Gabby. She worked with my dad before I took total ownership of the company five years ago. Whenever I’m here, she comes into work, although she doesn’t have to. I give her a nice bonus every year as a thanks. I appreciate her long hours and dedication to help me.

“Hi, Mr. Lincoln.”

“Gabby, can you call the photographer and editors? I need whoever's in up here now.”

“Sure, Mr. Lincoln.”

Hanging up, I lower my hands, resting them on either side of the paper. After another long inspection, I come to the conclusion that it’s definitely the wrong picture.

A moment later, there’s a knock at my door.

“Come in,” I say with urgency.

My head lifts, and I stand straighter when I see the photographer Bobby and new photographer Callum.

“Come look at the article that will go to print. Tell me what's wrong with it,” I say.

They walk briskly to me, their eyes cast down to the papers sprawled on my wooden desk.

“It looks fine to me, Mr. Lincoln,” Bobby replies, standing back from the article, arms crossed over his chest.

Callum mumbles how he thinks it’s fine too, but he’s a new hire, so he naturally agrees with his colleague.

I grind my teeth as my eyes roll inside my head, my frustration mounting. “Bobby, ‘fine’ isn’t good enough. Do you have another image we could use?” I ask, my voice tight and strained.

Bobby runs his hand through his short brown hair, clearly deep in thought.

“We don’t have time to think. This article needs to go to print now,” I bark, losing my patience. He wants a promotion to photo editor. This position would give him more creative control, responsibility, and the opportunity to change the layout of the newspaper. But this article is proof he’s not ready yet. Why did I have to point out the blurry image? He should have been all over it. He doesn’t push himself beyond what's necessary. I’m looking for staff who push their limits. I’m here now because I did that very thing. I worked overtime for my dad for years, learned every department, and came up with new ideas to help grow the company.

It’s Callum who speaks. “We do.”

My eyebrows furrow and then release as I focus my attention on the new guy. “Can I see them?”

“Sure,” he says in a higher-pitched voice, avoiding my gaze. Clearing his throat, he reaches into his suit pocket for his phone but clumsily drops it. Shaking out his hand, he quickly bends down to scoop it up, tapping the screen as he stands.

“I can run down and email them to you,” Bobby offers, but he’s already stepping backward toward the door.

“I have them in a drive folder. I can share them with you from my phone,” Callum says, as his fingers move with urgency, still avoiding eye contact.

Callum moves to stand next to me, a bead of sweat sitting on his brow. He angles his phone so I can see his screen, which by some miracle isn’t cracked from the hard floor. When he taps to open the folder, Bobby stays silent in the background.

“Here they all are,” Callum says, keeping his eyes firmly on his phone screen as he scrolls quickly through the images for me to see.

There are a lot of images, which means I need a closer look, so I hold out my hand.

He hands his phone over, and I scroll through the mountain of photos until one captures my eye. The princess has her hands on her bodyguard’s chest, looking up at him with desire, their bodies pressed together, his hands resting firmly on her waist, with their lips almost touching.

“How quickly can you edit this?” I ask, looking up at Callum as my thumb hovers over the photo on the screen.

Callum turns to look at Bobby, his hand scratching the base of his neck, and I feel my blood start to boil.

“I don’t?” Bobby starts.

My nostrils flare as I cut him off, anticipating his crap excuse. “You know what? Just go, edit it quickly, and send it over.” Extending the phone out to Callum, he looks as though he’s seen a ghost.

Bobby drops his chin to his chest, as Callum takes his phone, and they leave my office without another word. I sit in my office chair, rubbing my brow to ward off a headache and get back to the article, knowing the new image will make this better.

I give them ten minutes before I am down on their floor. It’s already been too long. As I step out of the elevators, my body turns to stone. Bobby is at Shyla?the editor-in-chief, and my right-hand woman's desk, talking. You've got to be fucking kidding me.

I’m practically shaking with how angry I am.

“Bobby. What are you doing?” I sneer.

He stands abruptly and swivels around, face paling at the sight of me. He wasn’t expecting me. Good.

“Uh. I needed to talk to Shyla about the article,” he rushes out, taking another step away from Shyla’s desk.

“About?” I ask. I don’t pay him to talk or distract my other employees.

She’s not involved in this article—I am. But I don’t need him to clarify because I heard their conversation, Who would want her? She won’t find anyone better than me… which was nothing about work. He thinks I’m fucking stupid, and it only adds to my growing rage.

Those words remind me of my past and why I feel so unworthy of the good things that come my way. Is this the way my ex, Connie, spoke about me behind my back? Was I some fucking joke to her?

Was she laughing with the guy she was fucking behind my back, saying I won’t find any better?

“Her opinion on the image,” Bobby says, pulling me out of my past and back to the here and now.

My temple throbs as the headache slowly turns to a migraine. For fuck’s sake, I don’t need her approval to change the image. I’m the fucking CEO. What I say goes.

“You need to do what I asked you to do,” I say. Stepping so I’m standing so close to him, our shoes touch, and I breathe heavily into his face.

“I am, Mr. Lincoln,” he replies, his mouth trembling, as he takes another step back to give himself more space.

Lies.

I curl my lips in disgust. “You’re meant to be editing, not talking.”

Opening his mouth to respond, his eyes reflect anger as he shakes his head. But before he can speak, a throat clears, drawing my attention to Callum.

“Here, Mr. Lincoln, it’s done,” he says, briefly meeting my gaze before turning to his computer screen and gesturing for me to come and take a look.

“At least someone listens to me,” I grumble under my breath to Bobby, as I stride to Callum’s desk.

“I was working. I just needed to talk to Shyla,” Bobby adds, either trying to have the last word or to rile me up—I was unsure which he was going for. Either way, it nearly pushes me to the breaking point.

“She’s busy managing other articles. We don’t need her expertise for this Bobby.” My voice is loud, and everyone is silent; you could hear a pin drop.

Shyla looks at me with remorseful eyes. It’s not her fault Bobby can’t keep his dick in his pants. I need to get rid of this asshat. I just need to figure out how without him claiming unfair dismissal.

I force myself to concentrate on the task at hand so I can calm the fuck down, leaning over to see Callum’s work. As I take in the new image and what he’s been able to accomplish, the tightness in my shoulders melts away.

I slap the desk with a sharp thud. “Yes. This is better. Email this to me immediately. This is going to print now.”

“Yes, Mr. Lincoln,” Callum replies with a satisfied smile.

I step away from Callum, walk toward the elevators, noting that Bobby is back at his desk, doing God knows what. But right now I don’t care. I have a breaking story to get out.

In the elevator, I run through my issues with Bobby, wondering if I have enough to fire him. There’s something in my gut that says I need to do it before something big happens. I always find him “talking” to different women in the office. None of the women have filed a complaint against him. Does this mean he’s not bothering them? It’s probably just me. But my gut has never been wrong.

The elevator doors open to my office floor. My space. At this hour, it will be beautiful watching the sunrise as this news breaks. I love uncovering the liars and cheaters of the world. Here is another example of it. This story is a two-sided scandal. Not only is the princess cheating with her bodyguard, but so is her soon-to-be husband, who is cheating on her with her cousin.

Most relationships are built on lies. This just validates my choice to never be in a relationship again.

My desk phone rings, and I answer it.

“Gabby?”

“Mr. Lincoln, Aria is on the line.”

Glancing at my watch, surprised my commercial real estate agent is working at this hour, I take a steeling breath and respond, “Thanks. Put her through.”

“Hello, Mr. Lincoln,” Aria drawls, her sickly-sweet tone causing a muscle in my jaw to tick. “I wanted to give you an update on the property.”

“Hmm,” I grunt, surveying the small room that will soon be my old office. I don’t know how my dad managed to work here for so long. It’s cramped, barely fitting a desk and some storage. I’m planning to add an oval table for meetings and create a home-away-from-home vibe, complete with a bathroom, bookshelves, gym, and even a kitchen. But this small office will be Shyla’s. She needs her own space to work without distractions, especially now that I’m relying on her more and giving her additional responsibilities, like overseeing and approving articles. I need more time to focus on operations, finances, and overall business development.

“It’s ready for a tour. Can you meet me on Thursday?”

If it wasn’t out of her job description, I’d send Gabby just to avoid Aria. But I can’t, so I need to suck it up and hope she can stop batting her eyelashes and keep her hands to herself just this one time. I’m not interested in anything other than finding the right spot for my new office.

I close my eyes and sigh. “Sure.”

“Great!” she exclaims, a spark of excitement in her voice. “This place is perfect.”

Her high-pitched voice pierces my eardrums. “If that’s all, I need to go. I have somewhere to be.”

“Okay, no problem. I’ll see you Thursday,” she replies.

I hang up and return to my computer, wiping my hand over my face before quickly getting back to work.

Within ten minutes, Gabby enters with a warm smile and a coffee from my favorite coffee shop, City Brew. Carrying my cold brew to the sofa that faces the window, I sit, sipping my drink as I watch the sunrise until my phone rings again. And then it continues ringing long after the scandal leaks. The rest of my workday is busy until I walk out and get in my car and drive over to Oliver's.

He opens the door to his Manhattan townhouse with a grin.

He’s a cocky bastard.

But I fucking love him.

Being the eldest of my brothers, I feel like I must look out for them. I stroll through his house, which is very different from mine. His counters are white marble, with dark wood cabinets and floors. Ancient cream rugs with faded patterns and rich textures add coziness to the space. The walls are covered with a collection of paintings, in a variety of colors and styles. He loves art, specifically floral paintings.

We head to his dark, exposed brick den, where his gray oval-shaped poker table has a wine cabinet backdrop. Poker nights are almost never at my house because of my odd hours. I’m not always able to make it. Even though I try hard to. It’s my only outlet. Poker is purely for entertainment. The laughs, the competition, and the fun. It’s the only time I feel like I get to truly be myself. Because it’s with people I care about.

Entering the den, I’m hit with the scent of cigars. Our friends Richard and Lukas are smoking.

“Only four of us tonight,” Oliver states when he sees me looking around the table.

“Should be easy to whip your ass, then,” I gloat.

Oliver snorts. “You wish, big bro. Sit your ass down and let me show you.”

“Boys, boys, boys. We all know who the true winner will be,” Richard adds.

“Let’s just start playing and then the rest can burn through their cash,” Lukas says.

These are our friends from high school. Richard recently got married and is expecting a child, but Lukas has been single for a year.

“Where’s Jeremy?” I ask Oliver, knowing Harvey would be working.

“Jeremy is out with Nova.”

Nova is Jeremy’s fiancée.

I nod and pick up my cards to begin. A butler sets a drink in front of me, and I quickly lift it to my lips, taking a sip as I unwind from the chaotic day. Generally, I avoid sharing personal things about my day because of my ex’s betrayal. I don’t want to be hurt again, so I keep my guard up. But Bobby’s words and the whole cheating scandal are playing heavily on my mind.

“I have a question for you all,” I say, taking another big sip of my drink and then add, “I have a photographer at work. He’s fucking sleazy. I need to fire him.”

Oliver’s eyebrows cinch together as he scowls. “You can’t get rid of someone just because you don’t like them.”

I blow out a breath and explain, “I know, but something tells me he’s no good, and if I don’t get rid of him soon, I’ll regret it.”

“I understand. But you can’t fire him without a reason. Have any of your staff complained? Or is he overly nice, but you view it as flirting?” Richard argues. He’s a successful real estate developer and one of the few people I trust who’s not family.

I slam my palm on the table, my eyes on Richard’s, the intensity of my frustration clear as I lean in, every word dripping with seriousness. “Nothing formal but, come on, he’s not just being a flirt. He’s harassing my employees. This could be a lawsuit on my hands.”

“You just don’t trust anyone,” Oliver adds.

Everyone goes quiet. It’s like my ex is an elephant in the room, and I know it’s my fault because I won’t talk about what happened with Connie. But I’m still not ready; I’m still processing the pain and trying to protect myself from further emotional damage.

The woman cheated on me with a co-worker, and I only found out the day of our wedding. To say I was gutted would be an understatement. The humiliation I felt telling everyone the wedding was off was overwhelming. It was the hardest time in my life. I gave her everything. All of me. I loved her with my entire soul. I feel like I have been carrying an albatross with me. An albatross I can’t let go. I wish she’d have given me a reason. Maybe she didn’t find me attractive, or she fell out of love with me, or I wasn’t romantic enough or I couldn’t make her happy. It could be any one of those things, but I’ll never know. She never explained, and her deception and silence broke something inside me. A happiness replaced with darkness. I feel empty where love should be.

“Where’s Harvey tonight, Lukas?” Oliver asks, winking at me when my eyes flick to his. He’s got my back. Even though I never shared anything about the breakup, they stick up for me. I love my family. They are everything to me.

“He’s in a meeting. With that businesswoman he’s obsessed with.” Lukas laughs.

Harvey is adamant he doesn’t care about this woman at all, but he sure has given her a lot of his spare time.

“I fold,” Richard calls out. Throwing in his hand, he lets the cards drop onto the table as he grabs a handful of peanuts to eat.

“Come on.” Oliver tosses his cards too, losing his hand.

After today, I need to win. I’m confident I’m the best player at this table tonight. I stick to basics; they try fancy and high-stakes plays. Whereas I go for the obvious, and that is, not the trickiest play. And after an hour, I walk away with a win.