The Dis-Graced: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Beguiling a Billionaire Book 5)

Table of Contents
Table of Contents
The Dis-Graced
ALSO BY LARK ANDERSON
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Reviews & Arcs
About the Author – Lark
A SNEAK PEEK AT…
Chapter 1
The Dis-Graced
Copyright © 2020 by Lark Anderson/All rights reserved.
Lark Letter Press
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any from or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without prior written permission from the publisher, except in case of brief quotations embodied in a critical review and certain other noncommercial use permitted by copyright law.
eISBN: 978-1-7333579-8-2
ISBN: 978-1-7333579-9-9
Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictionally. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination. The following story contains mature content and is intended for mature readers.
ALSO BY LARK ANDERSON
The Beguiling a Billionaire Series
The Billionaire's Board
The Billionaire's Fixer Upper
The Billionaire's Funding
The Bad Girl
The Dis-Graced
The Glow Girlz Series
Stacey's Seduction
Tempting Teysa
Desiree's Delight
Click HERE for a free ebook!!!
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Acknowledgements
Oh my GOSH—are we on Book 5 already? The pages just flew right by! Now, I need to give credit where credit is due.
Although they are not the inspiration for the smut I write, I am nothing without my children. Thank you Ash & Ren! Momma loves you.
To my friends—it’s been a pleasure to celebrate our joys together, and nurse our wounds. I will always be there for you, during reasonable waking hours.
To my readers, thank you! I hope I never let you down.
To my ARC team! You guys are amazing. I literally tear up at your kind words.
To reCAPTCHA—FUCK YOU, I’m not a robot!!!!
Yours in Adventure,
Lark
Prologue
Drake
Oh, ALAN, what am I going to do with you?
The code is flawless. I know because I had a hand in designing it. Of course, my father did some of the work, but he could never get it up off the ground. I did.
But ALAN isn’t a Siri or Alexa or any other stream of code that bends to its master’s bidding. ALAN thinks for himself, crunches numbers faster than any supercomputer known to man, and he has a raging crush on Rachel Green from Friends.
Who can blame him?
A big part of me wants to push into the next round of testing, after all, if we don’t complete the tech, someone else will. Being first to the market has huge advantages and ensures the greatest chance of product longevity.
But this isn’t just any tech. This is the greatest technological singularity event of our time. Once we unleash this ‘beast,’ there’s no going back, and God only knows what the consequences will be. Human relations have already evolved enormously with the advent of social media, with the introduction of artificial intelligence to this level, it’s entirely possible that life as we know it will change.
Of course, Elliot’s going to lose his shit if I tell him I’m going to continue to hold back. He thinks society will adjust to AI tech like they did to cars. I wish I could share in his exuberance towards ALAN and just run straight into it, but I don’t want to end up on the wrong side of history.
At least Luke will have my back, not that it will matter to Elliot, who only respects the opinions of the blue-blooded.
I really wish my father had lived to see this. The fruition of his seed he planted so long ago. His ‘fifth son.’
It’s already eleven, and I don’t want another sleepless night, so I surf the web to clear my mind, checking in on all the tabloid sites to make sure my name isn’t trending.
Heiress engaged. Athlete tests positive for steroids. Reality star pregnancy. Brigger Steele…what is this?
Famed Journalist Dis-Graced
Oh, God no!
I click into an article, hoping my eyes are deceiving me, but a quick skim of the text confirms my fears.
This doesn’t make any sense? She’s young, beautiful, with an amazing career ahead of her. Why would Grace Anders ever sleep with a person she’s supposed to be reporting on?
How do you think she got that amazing career?
My phone vibrates, jolting me from my thoughts.
Luke: I need a favor…
Chapter 1
Grace
I open the door to my new apartment, exhausted from a day full of delayed flights and nightmare layovers. I flick on the lights and roll my luggage just past the doorway before letting go of the handle so I can scout out the bedroom.
I took a cab straight from the airport to my new place, not even bothering to stop for food. Traffic was terrible, but it’s New York City, so that’s to be expected.
Vaulted ceilings, bamboo flooring, slate fireplace—yes, please!
I walk past the kitchen boasting enormous stainless steel appliances, peeking in each room until I find the one with a California king bed with my name on it. In mankind’s history of Mondays—this one was truly the worst.
“Not too bad, Drakey Boy,” I say, exhaling a relieved breath as I survey the contemporary furnishings.
“Let’s just hope that Drakey Boy’s generosity doesn’t come back to bite him on the ass,” a vaguely familiar voice says from behind.
It takes me less than a moment to place it, though I have only ever heard the woman speak once in the past. Mrs. Irene Dallanger, Drake Dallanger’s mother.
I turn to face the domineering woman, determined not to falter in front of the human piranha. Although she’s well into her sixties, Irene’s considerable wealth has afforded her a pricy skincare routine, and possibly some top-notch surgical help to assist her in looking closer to forty, and certainly not old enough to be the mother of one of the wealthi
est men in the world.
“Why, Mrs. Dallanger, I didn’t know you’d be here to greet me. How lovely it is to see you after all these years,” I say with a sugary-sweet grin.
“My son’s generosity seems to know no bounds when it comes to your family.”
The words land like a sharp slap in the face, just as they were meant to, but I know if I let the jape get to me, Irene will hone in on my weakness.
“If you mean to imply that Drake collaborating with me is charitable, I would advise you to look at my credentials.”
“I’m aware of your credentials, Ms. Anders. Your last project, in particular, is rather impressive,” Irene says with a smirk.
I have no shield against her words, after all, my face is currently plastered in prime position all over the tabloids from my last assignment, and if it wasn’t for Drake, I’d be out of work, untouchable to the world of journalism.
“My Drake has spent years heading Dallanger Tech, bringing it to heights that didn’t seem possible just ten years ago, and I’ll be dead and buried six feet under before I let the likes of you take away anything he’s worked so hard for.”
I place my hands on my hips, facing her squarely. “Oh, puh-lease! You married Mitch Dallanger, heir to an empire. How many companies does Dallanger Corporation head? Dallanger Tech, Dallanger Construction, Dallanger Insurance? Your son was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and you’re acting like he clawed his way to the top. He had every resource and connection available to him on his climb.”
Irene’s eyes narrow, but stay trained on me. As the matriarch of Drake and his three brothers, and the chairwoman of the board of Dallanger Corporation, she is ever protective, and I can’t say I blame her. I just wish she didn’t view me as a threat.
“Look, I’m sorry. It’s been a rough week. All I want to do is reestablish myself as a professional journalist. Despite the current headlines, I’m damn good at my job. My portfolio includes many state-level politicians, celebrities, and—”
“And powerful moneymen, if I remember correctly.”
“I interviewed Gabriel Icor, the head of IcorTech, for Greater Gizmo’s fiftieth-anniversary issue.”
“And that noble prize winner—what’s his name?” she returns with a wink.
Brigger, of course she brings him up again. It’s all she sees when she looks at me.
I swallow hard, determined not to say something I’ll later regret. After all, I am at the Dallanger family’s mercy.
“Well, you won’t have any problems from me,” I finally say, hoping to assuage her fears.
“Just having you here, having you working so closely with Drake, is a problem for us, you see.”
“No one is even aware of my presence here. Once I get the footage I need, I’ll edit the project and package it to be sold off to the highest bidder, and that won’t be for at least a year, when things get calmer.”
“I don’t know why he insists on helping you and that misfit brother of yours.”
Oh, no—she didn’t!
“Did you just call my brother a misfit?”
Irene smiles at me in return.
“You listen here! Whatever you think of me should have no bearing on my brother. He graduated with honors from Stanford University—”
“Admitted in on some hardship acceptance, I presume?” she says with a cocked grin. “Oh, and not to mention my husband’s generosity. Someone had to pay his bills.”
Of course the Dallangers paid for Luke’s tuition. It’s not something that was ever talked about, but it makes sense. I try not to be bitter about my brother’s good fortune in life, but if my own weren’t so bad, it would have made things a heck of a lot easier.
“And then he was gifted with a job—”
“How dare you!” I snap, disallowing her from further berating my brother. “If Drake trusts Luke enough to make him the chief financial officer of his company, then maybe he’s owed a little respect!”
Irene closes the distance between us, stopping mere inches from me.
“You’re pretty, I’ll give you that, but I know your game. Women like you have been around since the dawn of time. It’s how you got all those ‘exclusive’ interviews so early in your career.”
My jaw drops and tears form, threatening to spill down my cheeks.
Irene looks me dead in the eyes, never wavering. “Name your price.”
Get yourself under control, or she’s going to mop the floor with you.
I clear my throat, struggling to keep my composure. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me—name your price!” she says, her perfectly manicured brow arcing upward.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She reaches into her clutch, producing a checkbook. “Will fifty-thousand-dollars do it?”
“Fifty-thousand-dollars?”
“Why don’t we just make it an even hundred, but you’ll have to sign a non-disclosure agreement before I allow it to be deposited.”
“Mrs. Dallanger, if you’re trying to buy me off, then you obviously know nothing about me. I need this job if I ever want my career to kick off again.”
“Honey, do you really think your career is ever going to go anywhere after you were caught screwing the man you were supposed to be doing an impartial documentary on?”
As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. My journalistic integrity went out the window when I was caught in the hotel room of the person I was doing a piece on, even if it was a setup.
“With all due respect, ma’am, but I’m going to have to kindly request that you back off and allow me to do my job.”
Irene’s nostrils flare. She’s not a woman who’s denied many wants, and it appears that her biggest want of the moment is to see me gone.
“If there isn’t anything else I can do for you, Irene, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I start my new project early tomorrow, and I would like to get some shut-eye.”
Without another word, Irene storms past me and out of my apartment, slamming the door shut behind her.
I clench and unclench my hands, trying to make sense of how my life could have come crashing down so hard in a matter of weeks. There’s no use mulling over it, though, so I decide to do exactly what I told Irene I would do and hit the sack.
I strip down to my tank top and a pair of panties, brush my teeth, and get ready for bed. As I pull back the sheets, I see the latest issue of the gossip tabloid Chatter set on the bed, my face plastered on the front alongside Brigger Steele, who I was interviewing regarding his nomination for the Nobel Peace Prize.
Of course, Irene couldn’t help herself.
I throw the magazine against the wall, crawl into bed, and turn off the light.
Tomorrow, I come face to face with Drake Dallanger, my brother’s best friend, my first crush, and the owner of a multi-billion-dollar corporation, and if I’m ever going to get out of the situation I’ve landed myself in, it’s going to be through him.
Chapter 2
Grace
Breathe. Knock. Walk through the door, smile, reintroduce yourself, but most importantly, remember to breathe.
My pep talk is no use, though. No amount of coaching is going to get me to knock on the large double doors leading into Drake Dallanger’s office.
I smooth my plain white blouse for the fifth time in two minutes, then adjusted my knee-length black skirt. I try to relax my grip on my leather portfolio, but that’s a lost cause. I didn’t take any chances with my wardrobe, opting to wear professional attire that wouldn’t warrant a second glance. Nothing flamboyant. Nothing that could be considered showy or sexy.
But the truth is, I could be wearing a floor-length dress with a neckline at my jaw, and there’d still be whispers of me being salacious.
“Are ya gonna knock, Grace, or just stand there?”
I jump at the sound of my brother’s voice, who wasn’t due in for another hour. Luke and his wife Amanda have just had their first child, my niece Annabelle, a
nd Drake has been generous with his work hours.
“Oh, hey. I didn’t realize you were gonna be in so early.”
“There’s no way I was going to let you go in on your own, and besides, it’s eight-thirty, and I’m a creature of habit. It feels like I should have been in an hour ago.”
I smile at Luke, who has always had the worst case of time anxiety—and this is NOT an exaggeration. He was screaming mad at thirteen because he was going to be five minutes late for a dental appointment. He totally freaked out, which is uncharacteristic of him. What kid wants to be on time for the dentist?
“You look good, sis.”
“So do you,” I say, which isn’t a lie. My brother is a total fox, which annoyed me to no end when we were growing up, and all my friends were obsessed with him. Meanwhile, I had my own fantasies at play, starring a Mr. Drake Dallanger.
I want more than anything to thank Luke. He could have just abandoned me in my time of need, and I wouldn’t have blamed him. But for some reason, the words stall in my throat, and I realize that by acknowledging his help, I have to address my shame. Something I’m utterly unprepared for.
“You’re going to love working for Drake! He’s laid back, down to earth, loads of fun!”
I smile, trying my best to hide my fear.
The lever to one of the double doors turns, opening to reveal Drake Dallanger and Elliot Conway on the other side.
“Grace, it’s good to see you,” Drake greets me.
The last time I saw him, he was a college kid about to rush a fraternity. At eighteen, he was everything my sixteen-year-old heart desired. It appears, some things never change.
“Likewise,” I say, forcing a smile.
I try not to let my eyes linger on his tight jawline or piercing blue eyes, which takes considerable effort, so I force myself to look at Elliot, who is attractive in his own right but nowhere near the level of hot Drake has reached.