Weston (Billionaire’s Game #2) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Billionaire's Game Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
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Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she folded her arms over her chest. “You should’ve told me you were seeing someone,” she snapped.

“It was none of your business,” I said. “We were done. You knew that the second I declined your ultimatum. How was I supposed to know you’d go so far as to fake an engagement to me? I mean, who the fuck does that?”

“It was a business proposal!” She shook her head. “You should’ve told me the second you were sleeping with someone else!”

“Like you have? Be real, Lena, we were never exclusive. That was our deal up front, and I know half the men you’ve been with while also sleeping with me and I never gave a shit.”

She pursed her lips. “You’re an asshole.”

That, we could agree on. Because I was an asshole. A real fucking prick who never saw this coming.

“Get rid of that replica,” I said, pointing to the ring again. “Print a retraction. I won’t ask for an apology because I know you’re not capable of admitting what you did was wrong.”

“And if I don’t?”

I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “A court case would be the least of your problems. I’ll go after every company you’ve ever touched and make sure I own them by the end of the week.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Fucking try me, Lena,” I said, turning around and jerking the door open. “I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

“Fold,” I said, leaning back in my seat and tossing my cards into the muck pile a little harder than necessary.

“Easy,” Ethan said, who’d taken over as dealer tonight. He straightened my cards, eying me.

I shot him a look that told him exactly where he could take his ill-timed word.

He stared right back at me, silently conveying I couldn’t keep being a prick without letting him in on why I was being a prick. Jesus, even in silent conversations he was a pain in the ass.

But it wasn’t his fault, or any of their faults that I didn’t want to be here.

I glanced over my shoulder at the spot where Brynn would usually be sitting and a stab of pain radiated through my whole body.

She wouldn’t speak to me. Wouldn’t take my calls.

I’d succumbed to texting her the truth, explaining what Lena had done. A fury like I’d never known sliced through me at the memory from last week. Lena had gotten a retraction printed and as far as I knew, sold off the replica of my grandmother’s ring.

Didn’t matter though, because Brynn still wouldn’t talk. All she gave me was that she needed a little time, and fuck me, I’d definitely give it to her. I’d give her all the time she needed if I could somehow earn back her trust in the end.

Even though I didn’t have a hand in Lena’s scheme, I was the one who’d never told Brynn how much she meant to me. Never let her know that I’d loved her for far longer than she knew, too afraid of saying the words out loud and somehow losing her because of it.

And here I was, lost without her anyway.

“Goddamnit,” Doyle barked from the other end of the table, shoving his iPad toward Serenity, who sat behind him. She quickly took it from him, almost dropping it in the process.

Gareth reached out and caught the thing before it fell, no doubt not to save anything of Doyle’s but to stave off any repercussions for Serenity.

“Thanks,” Serenity said after she’d secured the thing on the table next to her.

Gareth only grunted in response, turning back to his cards.

“What’s up your ass?” Ethan asked Doyle.

“I don’t like losing,” Doyle said.

“Aren’t you used to it by now?” Crossland said, throwing in a chip.

Asher called whatever he’d bet, but remained silent, casting me concerned glances every few seconds that I was getting tired of ignoring. I knew I needed to fill the guys in, but I wasn’t about to spill my heart on the table while Doyle was here.

“Fuck off, Crossland. Talk to me when you want to put something real on the line.”

Crossland flipped him off, focusing on the game.

“Your numbers came through,” Doyle said, and it was only after a few seconds of silence I realized he was talking to me.

“What?”

“The marketing numbers,” he said. “Profits are up. You win. This time.”

I nodded, not even a hint of joy rising to combat the hollow space in my chest. Was I happy that the firm Brynn loved wouldn’t be in his hands? Absolutely. Did I give a fuck about anything outside of getting Brynn back? No.

“Shit,” Doyle said, glaring at me. “You don’t even seem happy by it. If you didn’t care about it why the hell did you work so hard to take it from me—”

“Cause you’re an asshole,” Ethan cut in before I could answer. “And because he could.”


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