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Titan’s Addiction: Wall Street Titan: Book 2

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THE SIZZLING, HEARTWARMING CONCLUSION TO THE WALL STREET TITAN DUET

One determined billionaire...

Hedge fund titan Marcus Carelli knows how to get what he wants, and he’s never wanted anything as much as he does Emma. The cat-loving redhead may have walked out of his life, but he’s not about to let her go.

One wary cat lady...

Bookstore clerk Emma Walsh has had her heart broken by the ruthless billionaire once, and she’s not about to forget it. Marcus can chase her down all he likes, but winning her back is another story.

One queen-sized bed...

All is fair in love and war, and the new battlefield is a guest room with a single bed. To the winner go the spoils… Let the games begin.

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Chapter 1
1 Emma I cry for the first hour of the two-and-a-half-hour flight to Orlando. I can’t help it. My heart isn’t just broken; it feels like it’s been ripped out of my chest. And I did it to myself. I told Marcus I can’t move in with him. I told him it was over. My seatmates—a balding fifty-something man by the window and a blond teenage girl in the aisle seat—try to scoot away as I blow my nose for the fifth time. Only there’s nowhere to go. Well, the blond girl can technically get up and go to the bathroom, but she’s already done it three times to get away from me, so she stays put, giving me the occasional side-eye. I don’t blame her. The only thing worse than a crying baby on a plane is a crying adult. “You, um… okay?” the balding man finally ventures, and I bob my head, forcing out a watery smile. “Yes, sorry. Just a…” I swallow a lump in my throat. “A bad breakup.” “Oh, cool,” the teenager says, visibly brightening. “I thought you’d just learned you had cancer or something.” I wince, feeling like an asshole. Because she’s right: it could be so much worse. People have real tragedies, bad things they can’t avoid. Whereas the pain I’m feeling is entirely self-inflicted. I hooked up with Marcus Carelli, a hedge fund billionaire who’s so far out of my league as to reside on a different planet. I fell for him, knowing we have no future, and now I’m paying the price. “I once had a bad breakup too,” the teenager confides, chewing on her green, sparkly thumbnail. “The asshole cheated on me with my best friend in middle school. Kissed her behind the bleachers, can you believe that?” “Oh, wow, that’s terrible. I’m sorry,” I say sincerely. Middle school or not, that had to have hurt. At least Marcus never cheated on me. He disappeared for three days after an amazing weekend together, but as far as I know, no other women were involved. Well, except Emmeline. She—or her equally perfect clone—was always there between us. “Yeah, well, happens,” the girl says, shrugging philosophically. “What about you? What did the jerk do?” “He…” I swallow again. “He chased me down at the airport and asked me to move in.” Both the girl and the man stare at me like a jellyfish just sprouted from my head, so I rush to explain. “He didn’t mean it. Not the way people normally do. It’s just a convenience thing for him. He’s going to marry someone else. He told me so when we first met and—” “He’s engaged?” the girl exclaims in horror, and I shake my head. “No, no. They haven’t started dating yet. It might not even be her, necessarily. It’s just that he has a very particular criteria, you see, and I don’t fit it. At all. We have chemistry, but that’s not enough for a long-term relationship. I’m not the type of girl he’d want to introduce to his friends or clients. At best, I’m just a diversion for him, and sooner or later, he’s going to get bored and walk away. And then”—I drag in a shaky breath—“then it’ll be so much worse.” “So you, what… sent this fellow packing preemptively?” The man looks fascinated, like he’s getting special insight into the female psyche. “Kind of like striking first in battle to minimize your losses?” I nod and blow my nose again. “Something like that.” Except if the goal was to win said battle, I’ve already lost. My heart belongs to the man I walked away from, and it’s hard to imagine it hurting more than it does now. Still, I’m sure I made the right choice when I broke it off with him. If I feel this way after a weekend together, how much worse would it be if I’d actually been with Marcus for some time? No, this is the only way. Rip off the Band-Aid—along with a chunk of my heart, in this case—and move on. The wound is bound to heal over time. Isn’t it?

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