Million Dollar Devil (Million Dollar #1)(76)

I stiffen, fury boiling in my veins. “What do you want?” I bite out.

“Simple. You. In New York. I’m going to be there, and I want you to be with me after that launch. Your contract will be over. And I want you to give me what you gave Lizzy.”

“Why? You just said it yourself. I slithered from a sewer.”

She shrugs. “What can I say? I have a very dirty mind.” She leans over and straightens the lapel on my suit. “And I like my men dirty.”

It doesn’t matter what I wear. To women like Kim, I’ll always be dirty. “And if I don’t?”

She pulls out her phone and holds out a picture of me, before Lizzy found me. Then shows me an after one. Where every detail of my features is marked for comparison and obvious similarities. “This is just the beginning. I can get plenty more that shows without a doubt that you were once Jimmy Rowan, the YouTube daredevil. And darling? I’m not beneath hiring a person to get me pictures of you and Lizzy outright . . . you know . . .”

I reach for my coffee, but it’s gone cold. “I don’t get it. You’re beautiful. You don’t need to do this, Kim. Why would you . . .”

Her nose wrinkles. She rolls her eyes. “I know I don’t need to. But you don’t get it, do you?” She crosses her arms. “Lizzy Banks is a total bitch.”

I pull on my collar, anger roiling in my guts. “I’m sorry. What? She’s done nothing to you!”

She snorts. “Not personally, but her existence bothers me. Her perfection bothers me. All my life, I’ve had to work for what I get, and Lizzy has been given everything on a silver platter. She wants something, and she just gets it. She’s always lived in her little ivory palace with her daddy giving her the world. Well. This time, Quill and I will be the ones laughing in the end. And I’ll be the one that gets what the whole world is gushing about.”

I scrub a hand over my face. “Jesus, if you’re so jealous of Banks and their success, why involve me? Why not just spill the beans and get it over with?”

She gives me a mischievous smile. “Because this way, I get something that I want too.”

She bites her lower lip and eyes me hungrily.

Goddammit.

This shit with Quill is not even about the thirty million anymore—this is about Lizzy now, and me choosing between ruining her career or sucking it up to help her save face.

I’m not even doing it for the money anymore. I don’t want to hurt her. I’d rather hurt myself first.

But I still don’t have to relish it.

“I’m fucking sorry I ever met you.”

She leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Baby, you won’t be sorry in New York. I promise you.”

She packs up her briefcase and starts to leave.

“I’ll give you a call, James. And like I said, if you don’t want me to tell all of New York what a worthless piece of shit you really are, you’d better answer.”

I step back into my place and stare at my phone—fucking James’s phone—for three seconds before I call Jeanine and tell her I’m signing.

“What do you mean? What happened to change your mind?” She sounds shocked. And disappointed.

“Nothing,” I brusquely reply. “I’m just done with Banks Limited, and Lizzy and I are never going to happen. I better get real here.” I mean, have this bitch sabotage what Lizzy has worked so hard for? And knowing I’m the fucking idiot who spilled the beans while drunk and having her hand on my cock, coaxing me to take her while I kept insisting I couldn’t because she and I . . . because I had feelings for Lizzy?

I hang up and glare at the phone as if I could make the thing explode.

Fuck. Me.

I’ve never hated myself—or what I’ve become—so much.





NEW YORK COUTURE

Lizzy

I’m here. New York City, the world’s fashion center, for the start of Fashion Week. I peek into the main hallway, where people are already gathering—the lobby is buzzing with the industry’s most fashion forward. I check my phone. Ten minutes until we make our grand entrance. Then, he’ll do a little schmoozing for about an hour before I get up to the podium and formally introduce him.

Where is he?

I search down the back hall, but he’s not here. I texted him and told him to meet me fifteen minutes before, wearing the Banks Intrigue tuxedo—our most expensive and elite piece.

I clasp my hands in front of me, but that doesn’t help. Then I reach into my bag and pull out my index cards for the speech I’m going to deliver. It’s very simple: Welcome, everyone, to Fashion Week, and Banks Limited’s launch event for our most exciting line yet. I’m Elizabeth Banks, and when my father started the line over thirty years ago, he wanted Banks to be synonymous with style, elegance, and sophistication. The face of our newest line, James Rowan, embodies all that. A successful businessman himself, James is a man’s man, but he also exudes class and appreciates upscale luxury. He is the true twenty-first-century man, one who is at home on the links, at the theater, or at an elegant dinner affair. He enjoys the finer things in life, and that’s why he wears Banks, the finest men’s couture in all the world. We are so happy to introduce James Rowan!

I know it by heart, but my, that doesn’t stop my heart from seemingly wanting to escape out of my chest wall and go running out the door. I fan my face. It’s so hot.