Billionaire Hunt (Billionaire Matchmaker Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Part I

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Part II

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Part III

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  BILLIONAIRE HUNT

  Billionaire Matchmaker

  SUMMER COOPER

  Table of Contents

  Part I

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Part II

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Part III

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Bonus Deleted Scene - The Dressing Room

  Personal Note

  Never before published naughty read

  Never before published naughty read

  Kidnapped by 2 Men

  Shared by 2 Men

  Playing the Bosses

  Fight For Love

  Fight to Win

  Kickass Billionaire

  Wanted by the Biker

  Wild Fight

  Copyright © Lovy Books Ltd, 2017

  Summer Cooper has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Lovy Books Ltd20-22 Wenlock RoadLondon N1 7GU

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  Summer x

  Part I

  Chapter 1

  “This sucks. This sucks so so much,” Emmaline said as she and her husband Colin helped me pack up the last of the boxes. “I mean, helping you pack isn’t what sucks. I mean it does, but what I’m trying to say---”

  “Not very eloquently--” Colin said with a smile.

  Emmaline rolled her eyes at Colin and tried again. “What I’m trying to say, if a certain someone is done interrupting, is that this whole situation sucks. I’m sorry you’re going through this, Misha. I know how hard you worked to build all of this...” Her voice trailed off and she looked around forlornly at all the boxes in front of us.

  I wanted to agree, but I was too busy feeling sorry for myself as I glanced around the now empty office that had once held six full-time employees. It had been a vibrant dynamic space filled with innovation and laughter. I had thought I was building an empire, but it had quickly crumbled. Designs by Misha had officially closed.

  I shook my head. “I just can’t believe this is happening. I worked so hard and now it’s all over.” My voice sounded wistful and I didn’t know how much longer I could stand being in my former office without crying. And I wasn’t a crier, but Emmaline had summed it up perfectly--this sucked.

  “Hey, it’s going to be alright. I wish I had kept my stupid mouth shut,” Emmaline said, rubbing me on the back.

  “Me too,” I joked, taking a deep breath.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nodded and took another deep, shaky breath. “Just sad, that’s all. This place meant a lot to me.”

  “I know,” Emmaline said, looking just as wistful as I had moments ago, “but you’ll make a comeback.”

  She was a lot more positive than I was. I wasn’t accepting defeat in the long run, but in the short run, I had definitely failed and a comeback didn’t look like it would happen anytime soon. I wasn’t going to say that to Emmaline though. When we had been in college together, our other friend Lacey and I had been the ones pushing her to finish her degree. We had been Emmaline’s personal cheerleaders when her life took an unexpected turn and she’d experienced an unplanned pregnancy. Being a college student and a single mom had been hard on Emmaline, but we had pushed her to keep striving anyway. And now, over 10 years later, she was returning the favor. I was used to being the strong one in my social circle. I wasn’t going to let something as inconsequential as my entire career ending break me. At least, that’s what I was telling myself.

  “You and Colin can head out. There’s nothing left. I think I can handle it from here.”

  “You sure?” she asked, hesitating.

  I gave her a small smile. “Yes, I’m sure. And I know you have to go pick up Dora soon, so I understand if you need to head out.” Theodora, or Dora as we called her, was Emmaline’s preteen daughter.

  Emmaline hesitantly gave me a hug. “Well, call us if you need anything and I mean anything. You know I’m a professional counselor...almost licensed...in case, you want to talk.”

  I gave her a half smile. “Thanks...but probably no, thanks.”

  She nodded. “Well, if you find yourself sitting in your closet crying…call me.”

  I watched them get in the car and leave, and I took one last look at the office that had been like a second home to me. I remembered how excited I had been to open this place. My husband was rarely home so I had thrown myself into my career, hoping that one day it would grow into something that rivaled his. He was an engineer and owned his own firm. The idea of bei
ng an entrepreneur intrigued me and design had always been a hobby of mine. We were well-off, but I had wanted to maintain an income and hadn’t wanted to be completely reliant on Wyatt, my husband.

  For five years, it had been like a dream. I had been so happy and then the local economy started to slowly unravel. My clients just dried up and I was left with nothing. I had even stopped taking a paycheck to be able to pay out something to my employees, but I knew that wasn’t a sustainable solution. Finally, I let go of the dream. I’d never forget the day I called them into the conference room and told them that our company was coming to an end.

  No one was surprised, but there were tears and some of those tears had been mine.

  I added the last of the boxes to the trunk of my car and then locked the door of my former office for the final time.

  “I’ll miss you,” I whispered to the building, looking fondly at the old warehouse turned lofts. With a sigh, I turned away and walked to my car.

  I slid behind the wheel and my phone rang immediately. I answered it, using the Bluetooth in the car.

  “Hey, girl, I’m fine,” I said, expecting it to be Emmaline or my other best friend Lacey checking on me.

  “Misha?”

  I laughed. It was my husband. “Hi, I didn’t look before answering. I just assumed you were one of the girls.”

  “Not a problem,” he said sounding distracted. “Did you finish packing everything up?”

  “Yep, just have to return the key,” I chirped, trying to keep the mood light even though I didn’t have a reason to.

  “Sounds good. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to take care of that tomorrow. Why don’t you head on home?”

  His words annoyed me. He always thought I had an infinite amount of time. But I was determined not to pick a fight over just a few questionable words.

  “Are you close to home?

  “About ten minutes away,” I responded. “Why?”

  “No reason. I’ll see you soon.”

  He hung up then and I frowned, thinking of how his tone had been furtive, almost nervous. I hadn’t heard his voice like that since he had planned a surprise birthday party for me last year.

  I groaned to myself. I hoped Emmaline and Lacey hadn’t convinced him to throw me a “Feel better” party or whatever they thought to call it.

  Exactly ten minutes later, I pulled up into the driveway of our modern, sleek home. I loved this home, but not the price tag. I had thought it a waste of money, but Wyatt had said it was the perfect place for a CEO and his family to live. I much preferred the craftsman styled bungalows that could be found in most of the neighborhoods, but they hadn’t been grand enough for Wyatt.

  We were opposite in many ways. I was artistic and creative. He was a procedural guy, who saw most things in black and white; yet we’d been married for eight years, having only dated for three months before falling for each other.

  As I got out of the car, I prepared myself for another crazy surprise party. I put the key in the lock, turned it and peeked in. I didn’t see anyone, but the lights were low.

  I stepped fully in and called out, “Wyatt? I’m home...”

  “I’m in the living room,” he called back.

  Smiling, I made my way there to see him.

  To my surprise, no one was hanging around the corner ready to yell “Surprise!”

  “Hey, what are you doing in here? I thought you would be in your workshop.”

  He had a workshop in the back of the house where he tested new products and ideas. He could stay there for hours, only coming out to eat. Now he did most of his testing at work, but still tinkered in his workshop during late afternoons.

  “Hi, why don’t you sit down?” he said as he sat on the couch, drinking something that I was sure was an alcoholic beverage. Wyatt drinking during the daytime? Something was wrong.

  “You okay?” I asked. I suddenly had no desire to sit down. Whatever the news was, I would just have to take it standing up.

  He shook his head, not making eye contact with me even though I was directly in front of him.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked again.

  Finally, he looked at me and his eyes were wary, but I saw resolve there. “I can’t be with you anymore.”

  I felt as if I had been kicked in the gut, but maybe Wyatt was just being funny...but Wyatt didn’t have a sense of humor.

  I shook my head and said, “That’s not funny, Wyatt...so if that’s your idea of funny, you’ve failed miserably.”

  He didn’t immediately respond. Instead he took another drink and said, “We’re very different people.”

  “What does that even mean? And what does that have to do with anything?” I was confused, hurt and felt that my whole world was falling apart. I didn’t even recognize my life anymore. I had lost my business and now Wyatt wanted to leave me? I felt as if my insides were slowly being torn out. My head was now pounding and the only thing I could think of was that I desperately needed to wake up from whatever terrible nightmare I was having.

  “Wake up, Misha. Wake up...wake up,” I repeated over and over. I felt ridiculous, but it was worth a shot.

  “You’re not asleep,” Wyatt said with a sigh. “You should have seen this coming. Even I knew this was coming.”

  And just like that my confusion and hurt turned to anger. “I should have seen this coming? What exactly should I have seen coming, Wyatt? My husband leaving me? My husband, who promised me forever, just up and deciding that forever was way too long?!”

  He finally put down his drink and looked back up at me. His eyes seemed regretful, yet determined. “I’m sorry, Misha. I don’t know what else to say.”

  I stood there, also not knowing what I should say or do next. I was completely caught off-guard. And I hadn’t expected this. I didn’t know what he was talking about. I had thought that we had been happy. I had thought that everything between us had been great. I hadn’t seen any warning signs...any red flags. And then it occurred to me...

  “There’s someone else?”

  He shrugged. “There has been for a while.”

  I felt my legs giving out from under me as I leaned back against the wall and then blindly reached for a chair. I sat down heavily and placed my face in my hands.

  And then things went from bad to worse. “She’s pregnant with my child.”

  I don’t remember standing up. I don’t remember reaching for the wine bottle. Nor do I remember tossing it against the wall so that shards of glass flew across the room and red wine began to spread across our pristine white carpet resembling a slow pool of blood. My blood, I thought to myself, since Wyatt had figuratively ripped my heart out.

  Wyatt was now standing, his face showing surprise and fear. I had a temper, a really bad temper, but I kept it tightly controlled...most of the time.

  “Get the fuck out of my house.”

  He looked stunned and held his hands out as if to defend himself from me. “Misha, I know you’re angry. We should talk...” His words came out almost as a plea.

  “There’s nothing to talk about, you cheating piece of shit.” My voice dripped with venom. I meant every word. Now when I looked at him I didn’t see the handsome, tall, brilliant man I married. I saw a cheater, a no good shadow of a man. He sickened me.

  “You’re disgusting,” I said simply. I didn’t torture myself by asking how long his affair had been going on. I didn’t want to know. And I also didn’t care who he was having an affair with. All I knew is that he had been screwing around with someone else and now that someone else was pregnant.

  “You made it clear that you never wanted kids---”

  “How does that give you the right to go stick your dick in someone else?!” I screamed.

  “Don’t be so vulgar---”

  “Vulgar? You’re worried about me being vulgar? That’s your concern, Wyatt? You know what concerns me?” He opened his mouth and then seemed to think better of it. Apparently, having an affair hadn’t made him stupid. “M
y main concern is that you promised to share your life with me, but instead you cheated and started screwing around with someone else. So, I think I have a right to be vulgar. I have a right to be mad. So don’t give me a lecture on vulgarity, you repulsive, spineless, sorry excuse for a man.”

  “It just happened...it wasn’t planned.”

  “I don’t care if your dick didn’t have an itinerary. How does that make it any better? How is that an excuse to mess around on your wife? Your wife! I’m your wife, Wyatt! For eight years, I’ve been there for you. For eight years we’ve shared our lives! And now I find out that my husband, the person I thought I could trust with my life, has knocked up some other woman. How do you think that makes me feel, Wyatt? I’ll tell you. Like shit.”

  I was done discussing anything with him as I abruptly walked away. I headed toward our bedroom and walked straight to the window, opening it wide.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, following me.

  “You’re just lucky I don’t own a gun,” I growled as I walked into his closet. I began ripping his clothes off the hangers and carried them in my arms and promptly threw them out of the window.

  He reached out to stop me and I gave him a look that would stop death in its tracks. He promptly took a step back.

  “Throwing out my belongings doesn’t help any.” He had the gall to sound offended.

  “Being a cheating son a bitch doesn’t help any either,” I said, gathering up another pile of clothes and happily watching them all float to the ground.

  Mrs. Friedan, our nosey neighbor, of course, chose that moment to come by with her dog and looked up at the clothing floating through the air as I threw more out.

  I waved happily and shouted from my window, “Hi, Mrs. Friedan. Don’t mind the mess. My husband is sticking his penis in places that he shouldn’t so I’m helping him move out.”

  “Misha!” Wyatt hissed, coming to stand next to me to look out of the window. Mrs. Friedan stared at us speechless while her dog did number two in our yard.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Friedan. It’s just a minor domestic dispute, nothing to worry about,” Wyatt assured her with a false smile. He shot me a glare, saying, “You’re making a scene.”

  And I whispered threateningly to him, “Say one more word and you’ll learn exactly what it feels like to fall out of a second storey window. You might be a hotshot engineer, but I’m pretty sure you haven’t mastered the art of flight.”