Plain Jane & the Billionaire

Chapter One 1

"Mr. Morgan! Mr. Morgan! Look this way! Give us a picture!"

Julius ignored the catcalls and flashing lights, the red carpet and velvet ropes keeping the waiting throng penned like tamed animals, and entered the newest, hottest, most exclusive club on the New York scene. This was what it felt like to be outed on Forbes latest billionaire's list. Anonymity gone.

Sooner or later it was bound to happen given the circles he now inhabited, but sunlight wasn't good when one lived in the shadows. This type of exposure, the glaring, microscopic invasion of the masses that would do anything to get a piece of you, no longer could he avoid it. One article and the privacy he cherished had imploded. Now, his life was on full blast and he did not like it. Not one bit.

"Good evening, Mr. Morgan." Eye candy greeted him. Dressed in leather shorts and an iridescent tank top that dipped into her cleavage, she was a shapely package. "I'm Angela. Anything you need tonight, I'm here to assist."

"Anything?"

She pouted prettily, and murmured, "Within reason. Now, please follow me."

Julius had no problem falling in line behind the employee. He moved through the club, absorbing the heavy beat of the music, the press of the bodies on the dance floor, the lights. Judging by the crowd inside and the crowd outside, the paparazzi salivating over the Hollywood starlets and rappers populating the place, Harden had struck platinum.

Julius snorted. Just what the leader of the mob needed, a spotlight.

Hell, who was he to cast stones when his intimate universe had exploded on the pages of a damn magazine. They even had a picture of him snapped during his trip to Bali.

The woman led him to the bar, then stepped aside. Harden peeled away from the group of men and women surrounding him. He slapped Julius on the shoulder, snagged a tumbler of bourbon from a passing tray, and pressed it into Julius' hand. They were the same height, six foot four. Same build, muscular. Hitting the weights was therapeutic for both of them, though Julius had slacked off these past few months in favor of making money. Similar coloring right down to their blond hair. They could pass for brothers, especially since Harden let his grow out instead of its usual buzz cut.

"Congrats, Mr. Billionaire. I knew you could do it."

Julius kept his focus on the crowd. "It wasn't a goal, Harden."

"Bullshit." Harden grinned and sipped his drink.

Julius chuckled. Harden was amongst a handful of men who truly knew him. And yeah, it was a crock of bullshit. Seventeen long years, Julius focused on little else. First with JMI Head Funds, then with JMI Capital. Relentless intensity got him to this point, and he was far from done. Why settle at ten billion when he wanted more. Not more money, though what he wanted would cost. Julius basked in the praise until Harden nudged his shoulder, then tipped his head to the VIP lounge on the upper level.

Harden led the way to the staircase. Julius followed, along with Harden's entourage of bodyguards and lieutenants in his organization. Julius knew each of them but didn't engage. His friendship extended to Harden. Not them.

Harden Gage. New boss of the New York syndicate.

They had both come a long way from boarding school in Switzerland. The only Americans in the Swiss school, they and four other foreigners bonded over basketball, video games, and bloody fists. They kicked ass rather than having their asses kicked. Twenty plus years, thousands of miles apart, or a few train stops, the friendships remained.

Harden took a seat in a plush leather chair in a secluded, elevated alcove at the rear of the upper level. Dressed in black on black, he blended into the leather. Plexiglass floor, the lower level remained fully in view. Julius sat across from Harden while the bodyguards fanned out, guarding their privacy and their bodies. The lieutenants took other seats. Julius noted the quiet. Sound dampeners, he guessed. One could actually have a conversation here without losing their voice.