TROUBLE (The Billionaire's Rules, Book 9) Read Online Free PDF Page A

long time coming, but finally
she managed to drift into a restless, tormented semi-consciousness.
    When she came to again, it was late and
still dark.   Ivy got out of bed and
went and checked her cell phone.  
    The truth was, she hoped that Cullen had
tried to call her fifty times so she could know he wanted to repair things
between them.   But of course, there
was nothing from Cullen Sharpe on her cell phone.
    Instead, there was yet another text
message from the mysterious source.
    A new phone is being delivered tomorrow.
It will be safe.
    That was all it said.
    Ivy deleted the two mysterious texts and
then got back into bed, wishing that all of this madness could just be erased
from her mind.   If only she was able
to delete memories as easily as text messages from her phone.
    But the memories wouldn’t leave.
    All she could seem to do was cycle
through every little moment she’d spent with Cullen, and try and piece together
how they kept self-destructing over and over again.
    Why did it have to hurt so much?
    Why couldn’t it be easy, and why weren’t
they able to find happiness?
    Ivy was certain that deep down, Cullen
Sharpe wanted to be happy too.
     
    ***
     
    When Ivy got up the next morning, she was
bleary-eyed and exhausted from hardly having slept.   But there was no point in just
continuing to lie around in bed, so she rose, changed into jeans and a sweater,
and ate a bagel while drinking coffee.
    She watched TV and tried to keep her mind
off everything else.
    Everything that had no answers.
    It wasn’t until late morning that her
door buzzed.   Getting up, Ivy went
and looked outside.   There was
nobody there anymore.
    But there was a small box sitting on the
stoop.
    Whoever was delivering the package was
dumb enough to just leave it outside in full view of everyone on the
street?   It could be stolen in an
instant.
    Ivy decided that the intelligence of the
secret messenger was now definitely in question.   Staring down at the small box on her
stoop, she considered her options.
    She could just leave the box out there
and keep trying to ignore whoever was attempting to reach her…or she could risk
interacting with them.
    Nothing
good can come of this .
    Ivy sighed and let the curtain fall back
into place.   And then she left her
apartment, went downstairs, and grabbed the box.   It felt light, as if it might even be
empty.  
    There was no return address on it.   This box hadn’t been mailed via the
postal service or Fed Ex.   No, this
had been hand-delivered to her apartment building.
    Ivy held the box and scanned the
surrounding area, seeing plenty of people walking to and fro, cars driving
past, but nobody that appeared to be watching her.
    She turned around and went back inside
the building and into her apartment.
    What
if it’s a bomb or something?
    Closing and locking her apartment door
and then shaking the box lightly, Ivy decided it wasn’t a bomb.  
    It had to be a phone, just as the
anonymous texter had assured her it would be.
    She opened the box at the kitchen table
and then pulled apart the meticulously taped bubble wrap.   Inside, she found a cheap looking
disposable cell phone.   When she
picked it up and hit the power button, it turned on.
    Perhaps a minute later, it started
ringing shrilly, startling her.
    Well,
you’ve come this far.   You might as
well answer the thing.
    Taking a deep breath in preparation for
whatever was to come, Ivy answered.
    “Hello,” she said, cautiously.
    “This is Preston Sharpe,” came the
immediate reply.
    “You’re Cullen’s father,” Ivy gasped.
    “That’s right.   I suppose you know something about me,
considering the way the FBI have started tormenting you.”
    “How do you know about the FBI?” she
asked.
    There was a chuckle from the baritone
voice on the other end of the phone.   “I make it my business to know things, Ivy.   I already know an awful lot about you.”
    She felt a chill run up her spine.   “What kinds