Free Billionaire Blackmail: My Billionaire Boss, Part 5 (A BDSM Erotic Romance) by Emily Cantore Page B

chair.
    Maybe I could tell Mr. Stone about the blackmail. Maybe I could just ignore it. Maybe I'd tell Mr. Stone and then he wrap me in his arms and tell me the past didn't matter before tearing my clothes off.
    As though my thoughts had summoned him, an email appeared from Mr. Stone. I smiled to myself as I opened it but then was disappointed to find it was just a work email. Then my smile fell away as I saw he was requesting the same contracts as Mr. Black. I picked up Mr. Black's notes and compared, hoping it was a coincidence. It wasn't though. They both wanted the same work sent to them. Mr. Stone had written he wanted the work by 3pm and I was to drop everything else.
    Just then another emailed appeared. This was from Mr. Black.
    Hope you enjoy the bacon!
    Sorry to ask but the meeting has been pulled forward. Can you get that material to me by 2pm?
    There was a smiley face at the bottom of his email. It didn't match the expression on my face.
    What in the hell was going on?
    *
    At five minutes to two I sent off the work to Mr. Black and then Mr. Stone. Let them both have it at the same time and sort out whatever was happening. I sent it off and then escaped the office, taking a late lunch which was really just a snack because I was still full from the bacon breakfast Mr. Black had sent up.
    I was sitting in the park, half-heartedly eating a sandwich and staring at nothing when I felt my phone buzz . It was a message telling me to go to an address a few blocks away. I stopped eating my sandwich as the small amount of appetite I had vanished.
    The address was still out in public so I was fairly sure I wasn't going to be kidnapped and taken away forever. I debated not going even as I stood up and threw my sandwich away.
    As I walked down the street I started to get angry. Who the fuck were these people who thought they knew me?
    Yeah, they had a photo and yeah, that building did burn down but there was a long way between one thing and the other and it was circumstantial at best.
    By the time I reached the address I was fuming, ready to punch, kick, bite or scream at anyone who approached me. All my rage collapsed when a little girl, no more than five, tugged on my sleeve. She handed me a yellow envelope, smiled at me and then ran off. I stood there with my mouth open as she vanished into the crowd and by the time I got my thoughts together enough to realize I should have followed her, she was long gone.
    I opened the envelope and took out the single piece of paper within.
    You will find and destroy the hardcopy of the following documents
    The list ran down the page and continued on the other side. At the bottom was a small clipped image of me holding the Molotov next to the instruction to send "I understand" again. I scanned through the list seeing some contracts I had already looked up.
    This was it? They wanted me to destroy hard copies of contracts that already existed in digital form? What was the point?
    I put the paper back in the envelope and pulled out my phone to type the message.
    *
    The rest of the day went by at half-speed. I still had plenty of work from Mr. Stone to get through but even when I lost myself in it, I'd come out a moment later. I finally made it to the end and went home, thinking I'd escaped this day without any more problems about five seconds before I sat on some gum on the bus.
    I went up to my apartment and felt my stomach jittering as I walked inside. The violation of my private space made me feel ill. This apartment, as small as it was with its ratty sofa and hey-let's-call-it-antique-even-though-it's-just-old decor, had been my sanctuary.
    I shook myself out of that loop of thinking again and considered my new problem. The blackmailers wanted me to destroy hard copies of documents. I'd been to the hard-copy storage area deep in the levels beneath Stone-Black. It took up two entire floors and the truth is that hardly anyone ever went down there. Even Ms. Green, the HR lady who liked to purse