Billionaires in New York Boxed Set: Billionaires in the City Books 1-3 Laura Burton (books to read this summer .TXT) 📖

Julie dropped her hands from her hips and gave Harry a hard look. It were as if he had just uttered an insult. Benjamin cleared his throat.

“I need to go. I’ll call you tomorrow?” Harry motioned to take Julie’s hand, but she took a step back and bit her lip, her face wracked with worry. Just minutes ago, they were making out in the back of the car like a pair of teenagers, and not an hour before that, he asked her to marry him. Now she was flinching away from his touch. Harry set his jaw and gave her a nod instead, then he turned on the spot and followed Benjamin out into the rain, still hoping he had a fiancé.

Harry sat at his desk with his head in his hands. It was not the first time someone tried to sabotage his happiness. When he and Ebony were together, an influx of threatening text messages came rolling in. Her over-bearing big brother Martin never liked Harry.

“My little sister doesn’t need to be with a wet blanket,” he sneered, his bulbous nose dripping with perspiration, and the veins in his neck bulging after an intense boxing session. Ebony thought it would be cute to have her boyfriend and brother bond over working out at the gym. But it was more like a weekly torture session, where Martin took the opportunity to pick at Harry’s character, tearing him to shreds. The look of sheer delight on his face was forever burned in Harry’s memory when the news broke that Ebony had been seeing Phillipe on the side.

“Now he’s a guy who can carry his own,” he said with approval. Harry was not raised to be an alpha male. He loathed to see the jerks roam around college on the prowl, looking to treat unsuspecting ladies like dirt. Yet, somehow, the sensitive and genuine guys—like Harry—never ended up with the girl.

Even in the real world, long after graduating, Harry discovered it was still like the animal kingdom—a hierarchy among men. Who got the girl. Who landed the promotion. Who claimed the last parking space.

Being a billionaire producer only helped in the sense that Harry had been able to hire a whole team of professionals to keep him safe—and their “leaks” about Harry’s tough character garnered him respect.

Yet, conceited actors often made ridiculous demands that he knew his fellow producers would not put up with. Christian Bones had been blacklisted by every director and producer in the business, and Harry was the only person willing to take him on. Christian refused to show up to set if his mocha double latte was not piping hot or if his lucky cap had gone missing, but Harry knew a lot of actors were superstitious, so he postponed shooting for an entire week while they searched everywhere for Christian’s Yankees cap. It turned out Christian wanted an excuse to visit a girlfriend in Maine. The cap mysteriously reappeared on his return.

Harry rubbed his temples and grimaced at the memory.

Why am I such a pushover?

It wasn’t like he wasn’t warned. His advisors and coworkers had told him to expect Christian to pull a stunt. But when it happened, he refused to see if for what it was. His biological father was the same way. He raised Harry to always assume people had good intentions. Be the nice guy. The sensitive, caring guy.

Harry pushed against the mahogany desk and sat back in his recliner chair.

And look where that got you, Dad. Your wife had an affair, took half your wealth, and ran off to England with another man.

The papers said Harry’s father died of a broken heart. Harry wondered if that were true. Or maybe he had been too soft for this cruel and harsh world.

Someone was trying to threaten Harry into submission, only this time it wasn’t a conceited actor, but someone willing to carry out a threat. He had no idea who this new adversary was, and his instincts told him to back away, leave Julie and find a nice, simple relationship. The note was troubling, but slashed tires took the threat to a new level. He considered how much the situation could escalate. Was she really worth the hassle?

The image of Julie standing in her gown, nipped in at the waist and hugging every curvature of her body, appeared in his mind’s eye. Her delicate hands clasped together and bottom lip protruding, her pretty face framed with white-blonde curls hanging down her spine, her two big amber eyes glowing, the image warmed his heart and quieted his worries, and a sense of peace and calm stirred his soul. There was something about her that made Harry… different. She made him want to try and be a better, stronger person.

He rose to his feet in the empty office of his downtown apartment. The only light in the room came from the streetlamps outside.

“I’m going to take her to England,” he said firmly, staring at the grandfather clock on the wall. “And, I’m going to marry her.” He grinned to himself. A rising fire burning from within his chest. Just then, the door swung open and a flood of light filled the room, blinding Harry.

“Sir, permission to speak candidly.” Benjamin stood in the doorway framed in the light. Harry’s shoulders slumped as he made eye contact with him.

“All right, Benjamin, what is it?”

“I respectfully advise that you do not see Julie Andrews again, at least until we have ascertained the culprit of these recent… events.”

Harry heaved a big sigh and lowered to his chair once more. He tapped the desk lamp and it lit up the desk. A soft yellow glow illuminated the lower half of Benjamin’s face. His mouth a perfect straight yet very tight line.

“I’m not scared of some silly notes and a kid pulling a stunt.” Harry mustered his best casual smile, but Benjamin merely looked back, his face set.

“Do you have any idea who could be behind this?” his head