Gloria's Revenge by Nelle L'Amour Read Free Book Online Page A

“It doesn’t matter why I hate him. What disturbs me more than his relationship with Gloria’s Secret is his personal relationship with you. This is no time to be fucking your brains out. In case you didn’t know, while you were getting it on in Paris, there was a big sell off this morning of Gloria’s Secret stock. The stock plunged twenty points. Your job is on the line. There’s a lot of speculation that you’ll be out on your sweet ass soon.”
    My stomach knotted up. How was that possible? By all Wall Street estimates, our earnings were solid and our forecast healthy. In fact, before the long weekend, the stock had closed at an all time high, and many analysts had put Gloria’s Secret stock on their “Buy now” list, expecting further growth. Kevin’s “urgent” e-mails flashed into my head— the stock crisis, that’s what they must have been about.
    Victor’s sinister eyes bore into mine. “I’m not going to save your precious ass, Gloria, unless you give me what I want.”
    My blood simmered. He was threatening me. His body pressed harder against mine, his repulsive erection pulsing against my middle. My eyes clashed with his. “I don’t have to give you anything, Victor, except my commitment to the growth of Gloria’s Secret. This is harassment.”
    “You don’t know what harassment is. Let me show you.” Allowing his helmet to tumble onto the polished marble floor, he lifted his right hand to my face and pinched a cheek. With the other, he poked my clit with the handle of his riding crop.
    I winced. “Let go of me, Victor. You’re hurting me.”
    He poked my clit again and then moved his slimy lips closer to mine. Before they could touch down, the elevator doors parted. Startled, he released me. He quickly picked up his helmet and straightened his riding jacket.
    Confession: So much of me wanted to see Jaime standing before me. The fantasy of him grabbing Victor’s riding crop and striking him with it played in my head. Giving the fuckwad what he deserved.
    It was Tyrone with my luggage. Though wishing it had been Jaime, I inwardly sighed with relief. My pulse rate remained accelerated. I was still reeling from Victor’s vicious assault and threat.
    Tyrone was a six foot seven hunk of a man that, trust me, you didn’t want to mess with. With a contemptuous huff, Victor stiffly headed out the elevator. As the doors began to close, he struck his riding crop against one of them, forcing them to open again.
    “Have a nice day, Gloria, and think about my offer or Tyrone may be out of a job too.” His chilly voice matched his demeanor as he strode into the lobby.
    The whites of Tyrone’s eyes popped. “Waz that man talking about?”
    It was no secret that Tyrone despised Victor. Why not? The arrogant Chairman of the Board looked down upon him and had once even told him to his face that he should go back to the ghetto streets from where he’d come. I’d literally had to jump between them so that Ty didn’t physically take Victor down. The violent streak in Tyrone was something to be feared.
    “Nothing, Ty.”
    Tyrone, no dummy, could see I was visibly shaken as I pressed the button for my penthouse. My fingers were jittery. “You okay, Ms. Long?”
    I nodded. “Yes, thank you.” Truthfully, as the doors slid closed again and the elevator made its ascent, I felt like the ground was opening beneath me, and I was falling into a deep abyss.
    Jaime Zander had fucked with my heart enough in the last forty-eight hours, and now I had to contend with his vicious stepfather Victor and the possibility that I was going to lose everything I had built. The truth was hard to face. I swallowed hard past the painful lump in my throat.
    Usually after a long business trip, I found comfort being back home. My spacious, two-story sunlit apartment had been elegantly furnished in an all white and gilt Hollywood Regency style by one of Los Angeles’s top interior designers, and it had views of Los Angeles