Home > The Billionaire's Bet (The Sexy Billionaires #2)

The Billionaire's Bet (The Sexy Billionaires #2)
Author: M. S. Parker







“I spot a bit of action, bro.” Enzo nudged my shoulder, drawing my attention away from the churning sea of bodies on the dance floor and toward what looked to be the start of a small scuffle by the bar.

“Just goes to show,” he said with a shrug. “Doesn't matter how classy a girl is, there's always a little hellion just waiting to break loose.”

He had to shout for his voice to reach me over the pounding bass, even though we sat beside each other in the recessed booth at the side of the room.

I didn't respond as I watched the small blonde wave her arms in fury. She was yelling at a taller redhead with the sort of bright lipstick that was usually seen either on girls who were too immature to realize they looked like hookers...or hookers. Judging by how they were staggering, both girls were clearly shit-faced.

“Who’s going to lose her head and swing first?” my big brother asked as he leaned closer to avoid shouting again.

He loved a good cat-fight.

Not that I entirely disagreed. I chuckled as I answered his question. “I like the redhead for it.”

“Really?” He cocked his head to the side, evaluating the two women. “She's holding it together way better.”

“Don't believe me?” I grinned and elbowed him in the side. “How about we put a wager on it?”

His hazel eyes lit up. He loved a good bet. Hell, we both did. Aside from our dark hair, it was one of the few things we had in common.

“How about...” he stroked his chin in thought, “five grand?”


We shook and watched the two women continue to squabble. A small group of onlookers had formed around them, keeping a polite distance but being obvious about their rubbernecking nonetheless. I wondered what the fight was about. Was it something substantial, or just another drunk argument at the bar? A man? Had one of them spilled something on the other? Nah, a man no doubt. It’s always a man.

Then, lo and behold, the blonde cranked her arm back. I gritted my teeth and waited for Enzo to start bragging. The redhead was faster. She struck out first, connecting her fist into the blonde's jaw, and sending the other girl tumbling over the nearest table.

“Yes!” I shot a triumphant look Enzo's way. “What a show!”

My brother glared sourly at me. “Mine was about to swing.”

“Yes, but I think yours was going for a slap,” I pointed out. “Open hand, arm pulled back too far. But you can always count on a redhead to know when to slap and when to punch.”

Security finally dove in, scattering the onlookers. I suspected the men had been hanging back before, wanting – much like us – to see how the scene played out. If it'd stuck with just being an argument, they might not have gotten involved. Now that it'd turned violent, they pounced on the girls and pulled them, kicking and screaming, toward the exit.

“Pay up.”

Enzo sighed as he reached into his pocket, then flipped a poker chip at me. The value was printed in the middle in holographic lettering.

“Who carries around a poker chip for five grand just willy-nilly?” I asked.

He took another sip of his scotch. “Who says the word willy-nilly, other than ninety-year-old grandmothers?”


We clinked glasses, and each took a sip. Now that our distractions had been removed, Enzo and I could get down to the real brass tacks of why we'd met up this evening.

“Excited for Hawaii?”

He snorted. “Am I excited to go mingle in the shark tank? Hell no.”

I couldn't help but agree with him. Our extended family ranged from eccentric to obnoxious, with few falling somewhere in between. It wasn't a secret as to why our particular branch did its best to avoid the others.

“I will say one thing,” he continued. “I think we're in desperate need of a break after closing the Miller-Trenton deal.”

Fuck if I ever wanted to hear the words Miller-Trenton ever again.

Our family operated one of the largest restaurant and hotel businesses in the country and had been continuously acquiring assets since our great-grandfather started it in the early 1900s. Now our mother and father owned most of the shares, which was another reason being around the extended family wasn't always pleasant. Though many of them still worked in the family in some capacity, there were those who thought cushy employment wasn't good enough. They were still bitter about my parents having bought out the lion's share of the business following my great-grandfather's death. And in large families, pettiness was one of those things that could carry across generations.

“I don't think there will be anything relaxing about being stuck in Maui for a week with a bunch of people who talk shit as soon as our backs are turned.”

Enzo shrugged. “Then just keep your back turned, and you won't notice it. We've got a whole floor in that hotel. What's it called again?”

“The Wailea Grand, I think.”

“Yeah, that sounds right. Anyway, a whole floor. Lots of space to keep away from family. And there's all the other floors too.” He grinned at me. “I'm sure there will be lots of other people to spend time with.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I waved him off. “You don't have to repeat the entire pitch again. Nonna and Nonno’s vow renewal is enough to get me there.”

That was the truth. I loved my grandparents, and there wasn't much I wouldn't do for them.

Enzo nodded. “The real question is...how do I get you to not be a killjoy while we're there?”

His words hung in the air, and I downed another mouthful of my drink as I thought about it. Having some pretty young thing in my bed for the whole week would be a decent enough incentive, but the last thing I wanted to do was bring a date to the wedding. Most women would read way too much into meeting my family, and the entire Gianelli clan would take it as a declaration of marital intentions if I wasn't careful.

And I'd learned the hard way to be careful.

After a few minutes passed, Enzo decided to go ahead with his own suggestion. “What if we go to Vegas on the way?”

My interest was piqued by the possibility. “Vegas, huh?” I swirled the amber liquid in my glass and thought about it. “I might be interested in a bit of gambling.”

He laughed. “You're always interested in a bit of gambling, little brother.”

I grinned. “Of course. How else am I supposed to get my kicks when everything else is a sure thing?”

“Good point.” Enzo clinked glasses with me again.

The more he drank, the fonder he was of life in general. He might've been three years my senior, but most people assumed our roles were reversed. Not because I looked older but because he fit the stereotype of a youngest. Wild, enjoying the spotlight, impulsive. Plus, I'd been taller than him since I was fifteen.

“Sixty years,” he said wistfully, settling back into the leather of the bench. “Can you imagine spending sixty years with one woman?”

“I can't imagine spending sixty days with one woman. But I hope you start imagining sixty years with a single woman because I don't think Elina is going anywhere.”

Enzo glanced down at the gold ring on his left hand and shrugged. “She doesn't count.”

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