The Billionaire’s Dirty Laundry

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Chapter 16


I leaned back in my father’s chair, scrubbing my hands over my face while the lawyer rambled on. We were having a Zoom meeting that morning to go over the will again. Seventy-five years worth of addendums. My father was born into wealth. The day he turned eighteen, my grandfather took him to a lawyer and had a will drafted.

Kinley looked like she was gonna fall asleep. Ellie was at the club, attending her first day of camp. Joanne was running errands. The chef had Mondays off. We should’ve been boinking like bunnies all over the damn house. But nope. We were stuck in front of my laptop, listening to the lawyer read through pages and pages of crap I didn’t give two fucks about.

“Your father wanted to ensure that when he passed, you didn’t have to worry about any illegitimate children he may have sired coming forward. He added a clause stating that the three aforementioned children, Harland Harrison Hollingbrook and Eloise Estelle Hollingbrook, and his stepdaughter, Kinley Diane Davenport would be the only beneficiaries. You will divide his shares in Hollingbrook Enterprises equally, providing you with seats on the board and voting powers in all major corporate decisions. Arthur Pembketon will remain as CEO until such time that Eloise is prepared to assume that position. If Mr. Pembketon is unable to fulfill his duties before Eloise has obtained the age and educational requirements, Harland will step in as a temporary replacement.”

“Great,” I muttered.

“We discussed Hollingbrook Estate briefly when we met in person a couple weeks back. If you recall, your father stipulated that the home and property was not to be sold. If you sell it, all proceeds must be donated to the charities he listed. The deed will be transferred into your names. You aren’t required to reside there, but must maintain the estate. Your father left a substantial trust to cover the expenses.”

“How long until the will is finalized?” I asked.

“Your father had a large portfolio of assets, Harland. It is going to take some time to finalize everything. You’re looking at approximately six weeks before you can do anything other than reside in the home.”

“That’s just great.”

“What about the guardianship paperwork?” Kinley asked.

“Children and Family Services must complete their assessment before we can move forward with that.”

“Is there any way you can expedite that process?”

“I’m afraid not, Harland,” he sighed. “I know you’re anxious to get back to your life in New York, but if you want the court to assign guardianship to you, you need to stay put and be patient.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Ellie stays with us.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

“Okay. Bye for now.” I signed off and closed my laptop with a frustrated sigh.

“That was a giant waste of time,” Kinley grumbled, pushing up from her chair.

“You look pretty sexy in that skirt though,” I said. “I’ve been fantasizing about getting between your legs since you walked in here.”

“You mean you weren’t listening to the lawyer read through your fathers riveting will?”

“Fuck no. I was thinking about your pussy, and hoping to hell it’s not still off-limits.”

“It’s back in service,” she laughed.

“Good. Cause I definitely wanna service it. Get over here.”

She straddled my lap, her skirt riding up her thighs, revealing a pair of red lacy panties. I took her mouth, devouring her with a hot savage kiss, my tongue plunging between her lips while she rubbed herself against my cock.

“Take your panties off and sit up on the desk, baby,” I whispered.

She climbed off me, pulling down the sexy undies and sliding them over her ankles.

“Give them to me,” I ordered. She tossed them at me before hoisting herself up on the desk. I brought them up to my nose, inhaling the sweet aroma of her arousal. “Spread your legs. Show me that beautiful pussy.”

She pushed her skirt up to her waist, leaning back on the desk when I wheeled the chair up. I grabbed her hips, pulling her forward so her ass was right on the edge. She rested her thighs on my shoulders, our gazes locking briefly before I buried my face between her legs. I lapped at her clit until she was gasping and crying out, her hands gripping the edge of the desk.

Her hips bucked against my mouth, her moans gaining volume the closer she got to her climax. I drove two fingers deep inside her, stroking her g spot while she writhed around on the desk.

“Don’t stop now,” she begged when I withdrew my fingers from her pulsating pussy.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got you.” I hooked my arms around each of her thighs, spreading her wider before I dove in again, fucking her with my tongue while I rubbed my nose against her clit. She was panting like an animal in heat. I knew she was on the edge. I sucked her clit between my teeth, biting down gently. She cried out, her screams of pleasure echoing through the old house when she came.

I grabbed some tissues, cleaning her up before wiping her juices off my face. Her legs were like spaghetti, hanging limply from the desk while her chest heaved.

“I can do that,” she panted.

“I’ve got it, sweetheart,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. I held out my hand, pulling her upright before I lifted her onto my lap. “Is it okay if I kiss you? You know, since I just had my mouth on you.”

She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me in for a deep, hungry kiss. I guess she wasn’t opposed to tasting her own juices.

“I’d like to return the favour,” she said, sliding off my lap. She dropped to her knees, reaching for my belt.

“I’m not gonna say no to that.”

“I didn’t think you would object.”

“Is that your phone?” I asked when I heard something vibrating on the desk.

“Oh shit!” She jumped up, cursing when she read the text message.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, watching her tap away a reply to whoever just deprived me of a blow job.

“Um, well,” she mumbled, reaching down to retrieve her panties from the floor. “I kinda forgot I had a lunch date.”

“With who?”

“Robert Gardener. He’s a guy we went to school with.”

“The doofus who showed up at the funeral to ask you out?”

“He didn’t come to the funeral just so he could ask me out, Harland. He came to pay his respects.”

“To people he never met!”

“People go to funerals to offer condolences to the family. Not the dead person.”

“Whatever, Kinley,” I muttered.

“Do you have a problem with me going out on a date?”

“No. Go. Have fun.” I stood up and headed for the door.


“You better go. You’re already late. I wouldn’t want you to keep Robert waiting.”

“I thought you wanted to help me learn how to have a sexual relationship.”

“I did. I made you come twice now. I think you’re good to go. There’s no reason to continue this. You seem to have resolved your issues in the bedroom.”

“We never had sex.”

“Go have sex with Robert. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” I stormed out and headed for the bar in the great room. She didn’t follow. A few minutes later, I heard the front door slam shut.

I twisted the cap off a bottle of scotch, filling a shot glass and tossing it back. I downed three more shots before sinking onto the sofa and drinking straight from the bottle.

Why, Dad?


Why did you have to be a rapist?

And why young girls?

Why your own stepdaughter?

Why did you have to die?

I was content in New York, away from this depressing house. It’s so dark and outdated. And tainted with family secrets. I wish I could bulldoze it. But you made sure that wouldn’t happen. You forced your kids to keep a mansion that’s way too big for three people to live in. It’s more like a hotel than a home.

If you hadn’t died and taken your whore wife with you, I would still be in New York. Far away from the secrets that tore our family apart. And far away from my stepsister. That’s right. Kinley. The girl you raped when she was sixteen, taking her virginity and her innocence, and ruining her life. You left all your dirty laundry for me to clean up. An angry bitter mother, a traumatized stepsister, an undisciplined preteen with an attitude and a superiority complex, and a thirty thousand square foot, money-sucking prison.

I whipped the bottle across the room, watching it smash off the stone fireplace, littering the hearth with a million tiny shards of glass.

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