The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO)

Floor sixty-five of the Carrero corporation—Executive house. Lexington Avenue, Mid-town Manhattan.

Walking through the building with a brother who was looking decidedly pale with nausea with his ever-present bodyguard, courtesy of his father, Jake felt that familiar ease move back in. The ease of being back in his own building and in control. This was where he excelled in life. This right here, a building apart from his father’s and it was his domain, all business conducted herein was nothing much to do with Giovanni Carrero, just the way he liked it. Jake ran the sports side of the company while Giovanni lorded over the hotels. The grooming line had come to Jake seeing as his face was all over it and he had a million tiny smaller sidelines all being run through Carrero House.

His father had his darker dealings, and sometimes borderline illegal mafia shit, going on and he wanted no part in the old family ties. He’d convinced Arrick to start taking an interest in his side of things; he wanted him working alongside him rather than being pulled into Carrero Tower with the old man. The further he could keep Arrick away from the people his father knew, the better. Besides, Arrick had a good business brain, much like Jake’s, and he could be useful in a couple of mergers and acquisitions lined up in the near future.

Jake ignored the constant flow of female swoons and smiles aimed their way, not so big-headed he didn’t realize his brother was getting attention now he was getting older. Not that he cared, Arrick would soon find out how boring the female attention could get.

Hell, the guy was obviously a looker, they shared DNA after all.

He stifled a yawn in the elevator and shoulder punched Arrick to wake him up a little, his brother’s obvious fatigue was affecting him a little too much, and he needed to look like he was in control. Arrick was still almost slumped in a ball and Jake leaned out and pushed his shades back, slotting them back on top of Arrick’s head carelessly.

“Fuck off,” his brother mumbled under his breath, and the security guard just glared Jake’s way. Jake glared right back, aggression prickling instantly to put him in his place. No paid heavy of his father’s was going to try to lord over his relationship with his kid brother. He was sure he could take him, even in here. The guy was about five-foot-eight max and looked like he could only bench press half of what Jake did. Besides, Jake had years of cage fighting and mixed martial arts training under his belt, he would give it a go even if the guy was ex-military. With the hot Carrero temper of his, he was sure it wouldn’t take much, just another disapproving look his way.

He was a little too snippy with Arrick and threw him an apologetic frown, his own hangover was there even if it didn’t have the magnitude of Arrick’s and he was feeling rougher than normal. He should have had the sense to kill last night’s plans, he was sure as

feisty red-head, and a night of hot and heavy sex back

Christian Dior tailoring. She had served him well for years and was the temple of cool and efficient he was looking for in a new assistant. He needed a new Margo to replace her or this was just never going to work in the long run. Previous temporary assistants had either been useless or tried like crazy to fuck him, and he didn’t ever cross

him with some oral before being handed her resume and a swift shove out his door. He was maybe a loose sex mad playboy outside of these four walls but inside was a whole other

All sorts of grumbles and complaints going on behind them. Arrick was going to be pointless here today, and

little tired though.” She smiled at him in that motherly way she used in private moments, fixing his collar over

her fiddling hand from his lapel. She was being a little too OCD about his appearance this morning, and he wondered if he looked especially rough. He was feeling

walk in?” Margo smiled at him adoringly and despite the urge

behaving like a rock star. Twenty-eight wasn’t that

the replacement as Margo was standing in between them. He was caught by the interesting honey-blonde hair color, anyway; none of that bottled white-blonde crap of all his father’s employees. This one looked natural which was rare in this building. In fact, it was rare in his circle. Most girls opted for fakery as soon as they were old enough to

open-plan one, women and their guises were not things he ever pondered. If they looked fuckable, and gave him

remember? No-go