Hard Interest: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Read online

  Hard Interest

  A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

  Kelli Walker

  Copyright © 2018 by Kelli Walker & Bookify.shop

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  VIP Member

  If you enjoy reading Romance ebooks & want to get free copy of everything Bookify release in the future, you want to check this out:

  Click here

  Join our free contest & access free ebooks before they are official published.

  This is ONLY for a limited amount of people

  Follow us at Facebook

  Click here

  Free Audiobook

  Bookify.shop & E. J. Summer will deliver your FREE Audiobook inside Messenger

  Download it here

  Blurb

  "Don't know what you want? Come get what you need."

  I didn't become a real estate mogul without pushing boundaries.

  Without angering men.

  My specialty is uncertainty.

  Because giving clients what they need brings a thrill I can't explain.

  Liam Walsh is no different.

  Multiple requirements. No cap on his budget.

  And my perfect track record is tailored to clients like him.

  But he isn't impressed with what I have to offer.

  And that makes him the first.

  'The basement's too small. The living room isn't big enough.'

  The only thing he says 'yes' to is seeing more properties.

  I have to get to know the man behind the thick Irish accent.

  But disaster knocks me off my course.

  My safety and recovery rests in his hands.

  The Irishman whose favorite word tanks my reputation.

  Will he destroy my perfect record?

  Can he protect me from a faceless threat?

  My mentor always told me real estate was a contact sport.

  But Liam Walsh is out to set the standard.

  Contents

  1. Philomena

  2. Liam

  3. Philomena

  4. Liam

  5. Philomena

  6. Liam

  7. Philomena

  8. Liam

  9. Philomena

  10. Liam

  11. Philomena

  12. Liam

  13. Philomena

  14. Liam

  15. Philomena

  Follow Bookify

  We support Authors

  Philomena

  Philomena

  In this world, climbing to the top was a singular endeavor. One taken on alone and never second-guessed. As a man, however, one could indulge. Pay prostitutes. Hire escorts. Have willing interns suck dicks underneath desks. But as a woman? Indulging didn’t happen. There were no hired escorts for prominent businesswomen and no willing male interns to lick pussy underneath a desk for a quick release. As a man, power and prestige were undergirded with sex.

  As a woman? Power and prestige were undergirded in loneliness.

  I paced back and forth in front of the array of windows overlooking the city of Boston. Those in my employment were watching my every move from where they were stationed around the long rectangular conference table. The awkward silence was meant to keep them on their toes. I wanted them to wonder what had compelled me to summon them.

  I had no problem articulating my demands, and they knew long hours were not uncommon. I was famous for my Greek temper and my outbursts of anger. They were intimidated by the way I owned the rooms I stood in. People worked for me because I was the best, but the second I turned up the heat too much they left with their tail between their legs. That’s how I weeded out the weak ones. The undedicated ones.

  The lazy ones.

  Most men wanted to come work for me because they thought they could get a piece of me. A piece of my world. Of my business. Of my body. I was no stranger to the pull I had on men. I could make them pant after me like starving dogs. But they can never get past my icy stare. Plus, I would never cross that line with a lowly employee.

  Though I didn’t mind giving off that impression if it got me what I needed.

  “I’ve been going over the performance reviews and I’m not impressed. I expect the best and some of you are skating through, thinking I won’t notice.”

  The room was silent as I turned to face them.

  “I want results, and to see the same fire in your eyes I saw when I first hired each of you. This business is about pounding the pavement and cultivating resources. And most of you have forgotten that.”

  I walked around them, feeding on the fear was coming off them in waves. I put my hand on the back of my leather chair and looked into every pair of eyes staring back at me. My white blouse had the first couple of buttons undone to make them think I was approachable. A tactic I’d found to be a useful one when I was nothing but a lowly saleswoman myself.

  Until I built my own multibillion dollar real estate empire.

  My mother and father were proud of my accomplishments. Proud of the business I’d built on the backs of their risk to migrate. They watched as I become a rising star in the real estate community. A daughter that could take care of them in their later years. I dedicated my time to the craft of seduction and convincing arguments. I excelled in debating and took pride in toppling my opponents in high school all the way into my college years.

  All of it, to repay them for the hard lives they had so I could be comfortable.

  All of it, to make sure they could experience the comfort I now felt at the prime of my life.

  “I feel I have to say something in my own defense.”

  Jackson and his pompous attitude were getting on my last nerve. His cocksure grin and pristine smile were made more palatable by a body that was sculpted into marble. And in another lifetime, I might have thrown him a bone to show me that body of his.

  But not today.

  “There’s nothing you can possibly say to explain what I see in front of my eyes,” I said. “Because you, out of everyone here, have the lowest sell rate this quarter.”

  “The board doesn’t tell you everything,” he said. “There’s more to this game than numbers and sell rates.”

  “Numbers don’t lie,” I said. “Numbers are what got me here. Numbers are what made me the only female real estate mogul in the country. So as that woman, I’m putting all of you on notice. This time next month, one of you won’t be sitting there. And the one that doesn’t exceed my expectations will find themselves walking the unemployment line.”

  “What exactly are you looking for?” Jackson asked.

  “If you have to ask, then you’ll probably be my next victim,” I said.

  “I know nobody is going to have the courage to stand up to you, but I’m tired of playing these games. I go home every night wondering whether or not I’ll have a job when I come in the next morning. This is a hostile working environment.”

  He had a decent set of balls on him to stand up to me in front of those too terrified to utter a single word of complaint.

  But that didn’t mean it didn’t piss me off.

  “I’d sit down before you say something you’re going to regret.”

  Oh, the thrill I would get handing that smug face of his those discharge papers.

  I took off my blue blazer with my company’s logo and draped it over my chair. In a male-dominated career, I always had to prove myself by using assets naturally bestowed to me. I didn’t
like it at first. Until I saw how it affected my numbers. The commission I brought in. Taunting men with pencil skirts and nude stockings and thick-framed glasses on my face shot me to the top of the ranks every single time. Men fought their way to the front of the line to sit in my office and fawn over me while I coaxed their wallets open to buy property.

  In a man’s world, there was no competition for the curves of a woman.

  And I had plenty to go around.

  “I haven’t been able to sleep since the new baby arrived,” Jackson said. “That’s why I’m telling you that your numbers don’t paint the whole story.”

  He was frazzled. I got that. It was evident since he’d come in wearing two different shoes. His red tie had a green stain of what I could only assume was baby food. Jackson was a mess. And part of me felt for him.

  But it wasn’t the part of me I ran my company with.

  “The one thing that I can’t stand is excuses,” I said. “I’m running a company, and I need the best to run that company with. I didn’t make it to the top by making excuses, Jackson. And you won’t, either.”

  “I’m running on an hour of sleep and you have shown me no sympathy.”

  “’Sympathy’ isn’t in my job description as your boss. I push those I employ. I push them to be the best. And most of them crumble. But that’s what happens when someone isn’t the best. You might not be the best, Jackson. Which means I can’t have you involved in my company.”

  “Mrs. Wright, please.”

  Oh, I loved it when a man reduced himself to begging.

  “Your jobs are hanging by a thread. This meeting needs to put a fire under all of you. Trimming the fat from time to time is necessary. It’s how we all stay on top. I don’t expect anything more from you than I give to the company every day. And I expect that same dedication from those I employ.”

  My jaw clenched shut as I walked around the table. Stalking them. Studying them. Real estate wasn’t just a game of selling and reaping money. It was a game of behavioral science. And I’d become apt at reading the likes of others. Being a great judge of character came with the territory, but it also meant no one could hide anything from me.

  And when I stopped behind Jackson, I watched his sculpted muscles quiver.

  It would’ve been easy to draw a man like him into my web of depravity. Especially with the threat of his employment hanging in the air. But dipping my ink into the company well would make for awkward moments after the dust settled in the morning. My love life was on life support, but even the Devil had boundaries.

  Preferences.

  Standards.

  “This business demands that everybody keep up with the trends. It’s why I pay for training for all of you once a quarter to learn them. Our clients depend on us to show them what they don’t know they want. It’s why I specialize in the wishy-washy. We have to guide them by the hand. Treat them like children. Let them know that we’re a safe place to fall and that they can confide in us.”

  I went back to the chalkboard and wrote in bold letters ‘Money is King’. Then I turned back towards my pathetic real estate salespeople and grinned.

  It was a motto I lived by and a mantra I repeated to myself in the mirror every morning. My employees had been conditioned to work the room and snatch those prospective clients from underneath our competitors’ noses. I had become a game-changer in the industry. Ruthless and heavy-handed when I knew I had a customer sucked in. And I was never going to become complacent.

  Nor were my employees.

  A percentage of my income went toward footing the bill for my parent’s retirement in Boca Raton. After working themselves to their bare knuckles my entire life, the idea of them not having enough money to live off the streets with made me sick. So I found what I loved and I promised myself that I would do whatever it took to keep them comfortable until the day they died. They uprooted their entire lives from Greece to seek out a better future for me. And I wasn’t going to squander it.

  Nor were my employees.

  “I reward those that go above the call of duty with tropical trips and bonuses. It’s what I use to keep you motivated. I don’t make you depend on commission. You get a salary on top of what you make once you sell off a piece of property. I treat you well. I treat you the best in the marketplace. I could change that and make you feel the heat on the back of your neck if you don’t think I deserve that best back,” I said.

  My tone was stern, and they knew that I meant business. And finally, Jackson backed down. With his spit-up tie and his mismatched shoes.

  “I have a new client flying in on his private plane from Dubai. He’s looking for offices to expand his business,” Jasmine said.

  “Everyone take stock. Because Jasmine is what you all should aspire to be,” I said.

  Jasmine was my protégé and I had taught her everything she needed to know. I was molding her into the perfect example of what I was looking for out of the rest of my employees. Her caramel skin and hourglass figure on a towering six-foot figure made her a sought-after agent. Powerful men who thought they could bed my best saleswoman. And she knew how to throw her gifts around. This girl, with catlike green eyes and a teasing smile, was making everybody else look bad.

  “Jasmine has every right to brag because she has done more for this company’s bottom line than all of you combined. Her competitive juices are always simmering on the surface and ready to boil over. That’s what I expect from you. That’s what I expect out of my financial investment into your talents,” I said.

  Jasmine grinned at me before I turned my back on them. The view from the conference room was my favorite, and many times I’d thought about making it my office. The landscape outside the window stretched on for miles with old architecture, but it was a crying shame that some of the buildings hadn’t been condemned and bulldozed in the name of progress. Antiquated plumbing and shoddy wiring made those buildings an investment to be avoided. Only fools with more money than brains would take a chance of spending more than those buildings were worth in the long run.

  But when I looked out the window at them, it reminded me of the progress I’d made in my life.

  A view I couldn’t put a price on if I tried.

  My parents had knuckled under by working for others, but I was determined to walk the path less traveled. It was years of hard work, but finally the light was at the end of the tunnel. My bank account was plump with more than enough cash to enjoy the finer things in life. My investments were secure for a lavish retirement when I decided to finally step down. And my parent’s financial independence was secure.

  My background was modest, at best. But I grew up never wanting to be the one looking in from the outside. Which meant everything else in my life got tables. Children were an afterthought and settling down with a white picket fence was a fairy tale. I was driven by money. Comfort. Security.

  All things I depended upon myself for.

  And I tried to surround myself with those willing to do what it took.

  “This is a wakeup call,” I said. “I’ll no longer tolerate phoning in. So, get out there and do your damn jobs before you lose them. And remember: location… location… location.”

  There were mumbles of dissension as everyone stood to leave, but I didn’t need to hear what they said underneath their breath. I had gotten a call early in the morning and a new client was set to sit across from me in one hour. The file folder of my due diligence was sitting there mocking me on the table of the conference room. Two hours wasn’t much time to get a feel for what he was looking for. He told me he knew exactly what he wanted, but I didn’t believe him. No one that came to me knew what they wanted. That was why they came to me.

  If I had a nickel for every time somebody said that to me, I’d be richer than I already was.

  Liam Walsh was the kind of man that said what was on his mind without censoring his comments. His colorful language was born from his Irish roots, and the video I’d found of him being interviewed by a report
er during the grand opening of his latest enterprise had my undivided attention. He was charming, but he made the reporter blush with his raw words, causing her to cut the interview short. His brash attitude and tight blue jeans made me hungry to see him up close and personal.

  I admired a man that could silence someone with his words.

  One look at his clean-shaven features had me clenching my legs shut. His blue eyes and thick mahogany hair swooped back like whispered dark clouds. It had been a long time since I’d baited a man into my trap. Ensnared him into my web and took what I wanted from him. If all went well with his property search, maybe I could take him out for a drink to celebrate his new purchase.

  Needless to say, I was looking forward to making his acquaintance.

  Liam

  I’ve always had trouble performing the most menial task. Especially when it required me to be someone I wasn’t. Traditional jobs didn’t stick. Monkey suits weren’t my thing. Being comfortable in my own skin meant I didn’t get caught in the trap of wearing a suit and tie to the office. My father saw that in me and deemed me perfect for his businesses. For the two bars he’d opened in Boston and the livelihood he made from them.

  This was the first time since my teenage years I’d had to resort to something other than my usual attire.

  I was a little awkward growing up. Being taller than the other boys made me the subject of substantial bullying. I grew a tough skin and hit the gym with my brothers, and boxing became the one extracurricular activity we all did together. I was able to build muscle on my six-foot-two body, and it had the added side-effect of making me admired by women of all ages.