Covet: Trusting the Billionaire (The Trophy Wife Book 4)

Covet: Trusting the Billionaire

Charlotte Rose

Copyright © 2015

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without the prior written permission of the publisher. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet without the publisher’s permission.

This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents, and places are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The reference to these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Rape fantasy is not rape. Rape is an act of violence, perpetrated by an attacker on an unwilling victim. Rape fantasy, on the other hand, is completely different. It’s something that the individuals involved do because they both choose to do it, and because it's exciting for both of them. Like all fantasies, it isn't real, and shouldn’t be confused with the real thing.

PREFACE

[Among some cultures, it is the custom for] the men to wrestle for any woman to whom they are attached; and, of course, the strongest party always carries off the prize. A weak man, unless he be a good hunter, and well-beloved, is seldom permitted to keep a wife that a stronger man thinks worth his notice.”

—
The Descent of Man, Charles Darwin

No matter how civilized, educated, and technologically advanced humans get, there will always remain a primal part of us—the reptilian brain. It’s the primal part of humans that helped us survive, reproduce, and evolve as a species from caveman times until today.

Every man has some level of primal instinct directing his thoughts and actions. Some men are better able to control this instinct than others.

All the male characters in this book are extremely powerful, wealthy, educated, intelligent, handsome, and civilized, but they also have strong primal instincts.

This book is a continuation of
Rapine
(Part 3), though that book does not have to be read first in order to read this book and understand what is going on. Depending on their reading interests, some readers may enjoy this book more, while others may enjoy
Rapine
and its three parts more. However, one thing that all the books share is the fact that they are a combination of the beautiful and the disturbed—hints of mischievous evil combined with sweet tenderness.

Like most fiction books, certain elements of this book have been inspired by books, movies, and music videos—
The Descent of Man
by Charles Darwin, the movie
Trust
(2009), and the video
Blank Space
by Taylor Swift.

MAIN CHARACTERS

Cheryl Lynn Stone

Cheryl is twenty-three. Cheryl’s parents are both from the Czech Republic and she was born in New York. She is feminine, reserved, and most comfortable with her small group of friends. She values her romantic relationships greatly, and is devoted and loyal to those she loves. She gains pleasure from pleasing her romantic partner. She is married to Julian Stone.

Julian Stone

Julian is thirty-two. He was born in Geneva and has more than one hundred commercial and residential properties around the world. He is a member of an elite secret society. He is a black-belt martial artist. He is extremely determined, unbending, dominant, and aggressive. He always gets what he wants. He vigilantly protects and cares for his loved ones. He is married to Cheryl.

COVET

Origin:

From Old French
coveitier
“lust after,” from Latin
cupiditas
“passionate desire,” from
cupidus
“very desirous,” from
cupere
“long for, desire”

Definition:

To yearn to possess or have (something or someone); to strongly desire to take someone’s possession without due regard for the rights of others.

PROLOGUE

I have the husband whom every woman covets.
The first thing I noticed when I met Julian was his exquisite face. It’s the most handsome face I’ve ever laid my eyes on: bright, azure blue eyes; straight, small nose; fleshy, plump lips; high, defined cheekbones; and a masculine, sharp jawline. His face rivals that of any male celebrity or model. In addition to his face, he has the tall, dark, handsome look: Ivy-League cut, short, jet-black hair; glowing, deeply tanned skin; a sculpted eight-pack; and thick, muscular arms.

If a woman cannot resist his looks—which is highly unlikely—Julian is also extremely wealthy, powerful, and charming. His current net worth is $89 billion and counting. He is a member of an elite secret society. He is a black-belt martial artist. His charm emanates off him like a force field. He has this penetrating gaze that looks straight at you; it’s like he knows everything about you. His smile makes you forget where you are. He has a confident, masculine energy.

Woman literally throw themselves at him. He admitted that before he met me, he fucked exceptionally good-looking women. He’s had his pick of the most gorgeous women in the world, but he chose me, and of course I feel flattered and a little intimidated.

I have the life that every woman covets.
Julian humbly knelt down and proposed to me with a flawless engagement ring on the peak of one of the highest mountains in Switzerland. The ring itself is spectacular—Harry Winston cushion-cut micropavé, super ideal cut, D flawless, eighteen carat in the center—but the mind-blowing proposal made it that much more special.

Julian swept me around the world on our honeymoon—various tropical destinations, South Africa, Dubai, Turkey, Greece, Italy, Monte Carlo, Austria, Germany, France, London, just to name a few. The sex we had during our honeymoon was very wild. After our honeymoon, we settled down into our multi-million-dollar mansion in Switzerland. We also have a son together.

At 88,000 square feet, our mansion is breathtaking. The interior is sleek, sterile, minimalist, polished, and elegant. It has remarkably high ceilings about fifty feet high, floor-to-ceiling windows, white quartz floors, white furniture, pools of light from the halogens that illuminate bright, colorful abstract paintings on the walls. There are three massive espresso maple kitchens, numerous dens, a gigantic library, an extensive wine cellar, numerous bedrooms, a game room, a nightclub, an indoor pool, a gym, a spa, a hair salon, a sauna, a piano room, an art gallery room, and a 3D movie theatre with two hundred seats. There are fingerprint and eye-scanning door locks. All the walls and windows are bulletproof, and the home has a commercial security system, the same kind that corporations and banks use. All of Julian’s more than one hundred residences around the world have the same technology and security.

This is not even half the story. They say if it’s too good to be true, it probably is, and how I got to this fabulous life with the man of my dreams is an entirely different story. It was a very wild, insane journey—it was
Rapine
. However, now the past is behind me and I want nothing, or no one, to intervene in my life with Julian anymore because it is heaven on earth.

CHAPTER ONE

I blink several times as the fog of sleep clears. I read the text message on my transparent glass cell phone again:

I’m going to have you. One day.

Kiss your husband goodbye.

I quickly recall Julian’s friends—the seven men I met at the party last night: Daniel, Phillip, Lance, Dimitri, Mark, Andrew, Timothy. I briefly talked to three of the men: Mark, Andrew, and Timothy, so I suspect it could be one of them.

Julian’s friends know exactly where Julian and I live. It would not be a problem for them to obtain my cell phone number with my full name and location. 

I get startled when the phone rings. I glance at the screen. It’s Julian.

“Cheryl, come into my office,” Julian commands.

“Okay,” I respond. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

I get out of bed and head into the master en-suite bathroom to take a shower. Once I get out of the shower, I take a good look at myself in the mirror. I’ve never looked better, as I’ve never felt happier. My brown eyes are shining and radiant. I brush through my waist-length dark brown hair, which has acquired a mirror-like shine to it. My tanned skin glows with health.

I apply lip gloss to my full lips, blush to my sculpted, high cheekbones, and mascara to my already-long lashes.

I head into my walk-in closet and pick out an outfit from my collection of high-end designer dresses. I put on an elegant pink silk dress that Julian purchased for me in Dubai during our honeymoon.

I grab my cell phone and check on the baby first. I find the live-in nanny playing with him in the bedroom. The nanny picks him up and hands him to me.

I hug him and give him several kisses on his cute, little, round cheeks.
Why would one of Julian’s friends be interested in a married women with a baby? What will Julian do when he finds out?

I hand the baby back to the nanny and make my way to Julian’s office. The door is closed, so I knock.

“Come in, Cheryl,” Julian calls out.

I enter Julian’s gorgeous home office, which has a television mounted on the wall, and a hefty desk in the center with a high-tech, transparent glass, touch-screen computer. The office is surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the expanse of mountains, meadows, and trees. It’s summertime in Switzerland, and it looks like utopia outside, with the sun peeking through the mountains and trees; yellow light pours over the lush greenery.

Julian flashes a gorgeous smile as soon as he lays his eyes on me and my heart stops for a beat. His azure blue eyes gleam like sparkling ocean water as he watches me approach him.

I gulp as I walk toward Julian’s desk. He frowns when he examines my distressed face.

“Cheryl, what is going on?” Julian approaches me.

I hand him my phone. “Read the text I’ve received.”

Julian takes it from me and gazes at the screen. He appears confused and looks back up at me.

“Cheryl, what is going on?” Julian asks.

“Who do you think sent it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you read the message?” I ask.

“What message?” Julian frowns.

I grab the phone from Julian and examine all my incoming text messages. I gasp.

“It’s been deleted!”

“Cheryl, tell me what is going on,” Julian demands firmly.

“Someone sent me a text message, but they must have deleted it.”

I assume they must have deleted it using the app that can reverse-send text messages sixty seconds after they have been read.

Julian crosses his arms. “What did the message say?”

I gaze at Julian’s penetrating blue gaze.

“It must have been—”

“Hold that thought,” Julian interrupts as his cell phone rings.

He picks up the phone, sits down at his desk, and becomes engrossed as he gets into an intricate business discussion.

My phone rings. It’s the nanny. As soon as I pick up, I hear the baby crying in the background. The nanny tells me little Julian wants his mommy.

I go to attend to him, and spend the afternoon playing with him in his bedroom. In time, I forget about the message.

In the early evening, I give my sweet boy his bottle and then tuck him into bed. I read him a short story, then leave his room when he falls asleep.

I spend plenty of time getting ready for dinner in my walk-in closet. I put on a classy, long, red Valentino dress that shows just the right amount of cleavage. I style my thick hair into voluminous, loose waves, and apply crimson red lipstick. I finish the look with five-inch red Jimmy Choo stilettos.

I make my way downstairs and through the mega-mansion that I now call home. I still haven’t gotten used to the place. I hear my heels clicking against the white quartz floors as I pass the fifty-foot coral reef aquarium filled with bright coral reef fish. I smile as I recall the first time I laid my eyes on it, when Julian gave me a tour of the place.

I enter the main living room and beam when I see Julian. He rises from his end of the table and rushes to pull out my chair for me. I sit as Julian pours me a glass of red wine, casually mentioning that the price tag is $125,000 per bottle. I smirk, loving that he still feels the need to impress me with his wealth.

I watch as he gracefully sits back down at the other end of the table, across from me. He looks incredibly fuckable, wearing all black as always—an expensive, custom-made black suit, a black shirt, and a black silk tie. Nothing suits him better than black—he looks powerful, dangerous, and mysterious.

The smell of the delicious homemade food fills my nostrils. There is enough food for ten people, set upon the table by several maids. I lay my eyes on all the tempting choices—sea bass, veal, grilled octopus, lobster, handmade pasta, truffle salad. My stomach growls in hunger. We begin to fill our plates and eat.

“Why have you settled in Switzerland, of all places?” I ask Julian, intrigued, as I take a bite of truffle salad.

“I have a company office located here and I don’t pay any taxes on the billions I make per year.”

I take a sip of wine; it’s so incredibly flavorful, fruity, and crisp.

“Wow, the wine is delicious,” I say and Julian smiles.

“Glad you like it,” he murmurs. “I also live in Switzerland because member meetings are held here annually and semi-annually.”

“Related to your secret society?” I take a bite of veal—it’s so tender that it melts in my mouth.

“Yes, Cheryl, exactly,” Julian confirms. “I hope you can acclimatize to living here with me. I want you to be happy. That’s the most important thing to me.”

“I am happy with you.” I smile and take another sip of wine. “I’ve never been happier.”

“Glad to hear that.” Julian grins and penetrates me with his gaze. “I always want it to be that way.”

Throughout dinner, Julian encourages me to resume my oil-on-canvas painting in the art room designated for me. He tells me that he will arrange private gallery viewings for my collections in the near future.

He wants to replace the expensive, abstract oil paintings on the walls of our mansion with the paintings I create. He says he prefers having his wife’s work on the walls rather than the paintings of famous artists he doesn’t care for.

I consider how Julian so artfully planned out our life together, even before we married. He set up the art room right next to the baby’s room when he first brought me to this home over a year ago.

“I want you to follow your artistic passion.” Julian smiles as he swipes his eyes over my entire face. “You’re very talented and will go far.”

Our eyes meet and my face flushes. His compliment appears very genuine.

“I will ensure your collections get viewed by some of the most powerful, influential, and wealthiest people there are,” he says definitely.

“That sounds very exciting,” I murmur.

“I’d like to inform you that I’ll be very busy over the next few months. I’ve partnered with my friends and business associates Mark, Daniel, and Phillip on a project. We are working on a very large business acquisition. We will spend a lot of time at my company office, but I’ll spend some of my time working from home to be close to you and our boy.”

“Okay, as long as you are here some of the time.”

Julian doesn’t need to work for a living, but I assume he likes to keep busy.

“You always come first,” Julian says ardently. “If you ever need me, you can come into my home office, or if I’m at the company office you can call my personal line. No one else has such ease of reaching me.”

Two maids clear our plates. One of them offers us dessert, but Julian dismisses her. “I am planning something this weekend, so I need you to have lots of room for dessert,” he explains as he stands up and approaches me with a sexy, self-assured stride.

He offers me his hand, which I take. I stand up from my chair. For a brief moment, he pierces me with a fierce, penetrating gaze that makes me weak in the knees.

“A dance,” he says as he leads me into the main living room.

The wood-burning fireplace is burning brightly and what appears to be thousands of candles are lit and spread about in the massive room. Smooth jazz music is playing quietly.

Julian grabs me by the waist and pulls me close. I wrap my arms around his neck and we begin to sway slowly back and forth to the beat of the music.

He gently grabs my ass and pulls me closer to him so that I’m pressed against his chest. I lean my chin on his shoulder, getting a whiff of the manly, spicy, delicious-smelling cologne emanating from the side of his neck.

My heart is hammering, and though slow dancing is such a PG activity for us compared to all the wild things we normally do together, I am breathing heavily and already aching for him.

I feel his heart beating against my chest. His hands tightly grip my waist.

“You are my world, Cheryl,” he whispers into my ear. “I love you.”

“I love you,” I murmur back.

He unexpectedly dips me low, my long hair flowing down and nearly touching the floor.

He lightly touches his fingertip to my lips. “Shhh,” he whispers. “I love you more.”

He holds me still for a moment, admiring me, and then raises me back up with a
whoosh
. I grin, feeling so safe in his arms.

He raises his arm to spin me. As soon as I complete the spin, our lips are touching and I stop breathing. He doesn’t kiss me, but parts his lips slightly, tempting me. I wet my lips in anticipation.

He pulls me close to him and clasps my waist firmly. We resume swaying slowly to the mellow jazz music. I can feel his hot breath on my neck. I can feel the amazing chemistry I felt from the moment I met him—it electrifies my entire body. I don’t think about the past or the future; I’m completely focused on this moment in time with Julian and the incredible way I feel when I’m around him—it’s a potent and pleasurable high even more powerful than any of the strongest drugs.

Just being in his powerful presence, feeling his alluring touch and his magnetic, masculine energy affects me and arouses me more powerfully than foreplay ever can. He stimulates all of my senses. We have an unspeakable chemistry that can only be felt.

I gaze over his shoulder, taking in the romantic scene around me. I feel his firm body against mine, holding me tight. My core clenches.

“Take me,” I whisper into Julian’s ear.

Without hesitation, he quickly swipes me off my feet, cradle lifting me, and carries me through the living room, past the grand entrance hall, and up one of the two huge cast-iron curved staircases leading to our master bedroom.

As he carries me, my eye is suddenly drawn to the enormous, sparkling, crystal chandelier with platinum and gold details hanging from the middle of the ceiling—it must be worth a fortune.

I close my eyes and when I open them, Julian strides into our bedroom, locks the door, and throws me like a doll onto the four-poster king-sized bed.

I see it in his eyes and I smirk—he is in full rape mode. He undresses himself, revealing his eight-inch rock-hard cock throbbing for me. I bite down hard on my lower lip. He approaches me like a jaguar stalking and attacking its prey.

“No, please don’t,” I protest, rushing toward the door.

Julian grabs the hem of my dress and violently rips it off my body with full force.

“No,” I scream. “My dress.”

He throws me on the bed and gets on top of me, covering my body with his heavy, muscular body.

He tears off my bra. I push at his broad chest, trying to get him off me.

“No, please, don’t do this to me,” I cry out, silently eager to be mercilessly taken. The hardest part of role play is not appearing aroused.

He pulls my hands over my head and holds them in place with one strong hand. With his other, he aggressively rips off my panties, which come off with a loud shredding sound.

“You’re going to get my entire load milked inside of you, so don’t fight it or I’ll be rougher than I need to be,” he commands in a tone sharp as knives.