Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires #1)

He spun, his eyes flashing like a raccoon's in the dark. “What are you doing back here?” he asked me, wiping his face.

“My phone,” I said, climbing the steps to join him. “It's still in his office. I really need it.”

“Well, good fucking luck,” he groaned. “The door's locked, and Keswick has the only key.”

The grip of depression started to strangle me. It didn't get far before I remembered what Silver had given me two weeks back. Unzipping my purse, I slid out the spare keys. “One of these might work.” He said he'd never let me think I couldn't reach him.

The memory of his promise cut through me.

Florian's eyebrows flew to the top of his scalp. “Thank fucking goodness! I didn't know what I was going to do.”

It took a few seconds, but one of the keys clicked perfectly in the lock. Jiggling the door open, I flicked on the nearest lamp. “What were you trying to get in here for?” I asked, scanning the rug frantically. “Paperwork or something?”

Florian ignored me, dropping into Silver's chair. The computer 'beeped' on, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

Crouching, I spotted my cellphone under the couch in the corner. The weight of it in my hand was a relief. Turning it on, I scanned the messages Silver had sent me overnight.

Silver: There's so much I want to tell you.

Silver: So much I want to do with you.

Silver: I want forever.

Silver: I love you, Pet.

Each of them cemented my desire to free him. Living without that man felt impossible.

“Alright,” I said, standing to acknowledge Florian. “I'm going. I need to get to the police station right away.”

He looked up at me briefly. “Yeah, yeah. I've gotta finish some stuff real quick. Say hello to the government cocks for me.”

He'd said that earlier, too. Was that why it was familiar? No, I told myself. I've heard that before, but when?

Rounding the desk, I meant to ask him where he'd heard that phrase. The brightness of the computer screen drew me in like a moth. Several pop-ups were open, numbers flying as fast as Florian's fingers. What looked like timers were counting down. “What the fuck?” I whispered automatically. “What are you doing?”

He glanced at me, then away. “Nothing, work stuff. Go help Keswick.”

In a black box, white code tumbled by in a waterfall of gibberish. I knew exactly where I'd seen that all before.

Silver spoons for some, government cocks for everyone else.

Cupping a hand over my mouth, I bit back a shout. Detective Roose! He'd shown me that phrase mixed in with some cryptic computer vomit in our first interview. He'd called it the hacker's calling card, he...

Florian glanced at me, his fingers pausing on the keys. My horrified face must have given me away. “Shit,” he said.

Backing up a step, I lifted my hands in front of me. “It was you!” Ripping my phone out, I went to dial for help.

Florian jumped up in a panic, knocking my phone away from me. “Shit,” he said again, his hands up in the air like mine. We must have looked ridiculous.

I moved first, scrambling to get the phone where it had fallen. Florian was all arms, wrapping me up, his palm pushing my cheek to the rug. “Let me go!” I shouted, struggling madly. The phone was inches away from me. I have to call the cops!

“No one was supposed to find out!” Breathing heavily, he sat on my back. His knee stabbed between my shoulder blades painfully. “Fuck, fuck! Just stay down, I need to stop this!”

Stop what, stop me? I didn't know what he was talking about, but I wasn't going to stay down. I reached back and dug my nails into his ankle. His scream was satisfying.

Florian rocked off of me, enough that I could give myself rug burn as I crawled forward. I grabbed for my phone; Florian shoved me with everything he had, my chest bouncing off of the floor.

The wind was kicked out of me, I gaped soundlessly as I rolled on my side. Panting, he stood over me and kicked my phone into the far corner by the door. Coiling his fingers in my hair, he wrenched me back. My scream was a mere whine, I could barely breathe.

Twisting me into a choke-hold with one arm, Florian yanked me towards the desk. This new angle let me see the screen again. One of the timers was blinking, a red warning that said 'two minutes.'

“Dammit!” he shouted, dropping me on the floor. I hunched there, working to fill my lungs, my gasps ragged. Over my head, I heard him tapping on the keyboard. “Gotta stop it, gotta, fuuuck.”

The timer, I realized through my daze. He's worried about the timer. I didn't know why, but if he was scared of it going off, then I wanted it to happen.

His scrawny legs hung over me. Bunching my muscles, I pulled my knees to my stomach and then kicked them out. Florian toppled, slipping against the rolling chair as he collapsed to the rug. “Augh!” he shouted.

Dizzy, I grabbed the desk's ledge, using it to stand. My phone looked miles away, but I took it step by step. Behind me, he snarled a nonsense sentence of swears and hatred.

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