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Chapter 56
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THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR Chapter 57
We’re lying there in the blissful afterglow, snuggled against each other in the tiny single bed, laughing whenever our movements cause the springs to squeak, when a stray thought enters my head.“It is kind of weird that you gambled everything – your career, your fortune – on what’s basically an illegal hobby,” I muse.“Well, it makes me feel alive. Nothing else really does.”Warning bells start going off.“…nothing?” I ask, shocked.He laughs. “Well, what we just did obviously does…”“But nothing else?”I guess he thinks I’m fishing for a compliment, because he tries to kiss me. “Nothing else until I met you.”I straight-arm him and back up to the edge of the twin bed so I can look him in the eye. Something tells me I need to see his eyes when I hear his answer.“Hold on. Nothing makes you feel as alive as being a thief?”He gets an irked look on his face. “Don’t use the word ‘thief.’”“Why not?”“Because it’s cheap.”“Uhhh, and accurate.”“No, it’s not. A thief is somebody who bash
THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR Chapter 58
When I wake the next morning, Grant isn’t in his bed.I feel bitter and tired, and my eyes hurt from crying. I want to apologize just to make all the awful feelings go away – but I don’t even know what to apologize for. For telling the truth? He’s a thief. Period. Yeah, he’s brilliant… charming… incredibly hot… and good-hearted… but he’s still a fucking thief. All those other things don’t cancel out the one. And his denial about it is just so… ugh. He thinks he can cover up his worst attributes by using a fancier name, like a wino claiming he’s a sommelier, or a meth cooker claiming he’s a chemist. Whatever.I dress and go downstairs to the private dining room, where JP is smoking a cigarette and Dominique is playing solitaire. Both of them ignore me.Grant is nowhere to be seen.There’s a platter of croissants and pastries, and a decanter of coffee. I pour myself a cup.“Anybody seen Grant?” I ask.“He is talking to Marcel,” JP says.“…oh.”“I realized something last night,” JP con
THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR Chapter 59
Two hours later, Grant and I are in the backseat of a car with tinted windows. One of Marcel’s men is driving. JP and Dominique elected to stay behind, which is perfectly fine by me.Grant has one of the pistols with him, and keeps it in his hand as he watches the streets of Paris fly by.“Why did you bring the gun?” I ask.“For our little meet-and-greet, of course.”“It’s not necessary. Nothing’s going to happen.”“Well, if it does, we’re prepared.” “I thought you didn’t believe in planning for ‘end of the world’ scenarios.”He shrugs. “You getting kidnapped by the FBI isn’t ‘end of the world.’ More like… ‘hemorrhoids of the world.’”“What?!”He grins. “In other words, a giant pain in the ass.”“What the hell are you talking about?”“It’ll be a giant pain in the ass to get you back, that’s all. But you’re wearing one of your GPS thingamajigs, and you have another one inside you, so – easy peasy, Japanesey, right?” he says mockingly.“If you want me to wear it, why won’t you wear one
THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR Chapter 60
So starts an epic round of ‘catch me if you can.’ Two more times we drive to a location and watch through the telescope as Mailin makes a fool of himself; two more times Grant discards a burner cell phone and we drive to a new vantage point.“Dude, are you going to wise up at some point?” Grant asks on the final try. “‘Cause I can do this all day.”By this point I’ve started listening to Mailin’s voice over the phone. My insides roil with rage every time I hear him speak.“Look, I could lie to you again, but you know what’s going to happen,” Mailin says. “They’re never going to let me meet you alone, no matter how much I want to.”Grant ponders for a moment. “Alright… since the FBI doesn’t have jurisdiction in France and can’t do shit without the local authorities, you can bring one FBI guy other than yourself. Understand?”“Understood. And thank you. Where do you want to meet?”Twenty minutes later, Grant and I are in the Tuileries, a giant public garden near the Louvre. The gardens
THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR Chapter 61
We’re back in the car, with Marcel’s driver speeding us through Paris.“Well, that was pointless,” I mumble. “Sorry I wasted your time.”“Don’t be,” Grant says. “It was worth exploring the option. Now you know.”More than anything, I’m disappointed in Mailin and how he lied to me. My friend sold me down the river. Or tried to, at least – and no amount of sticking up for me in front of Agent Duplass can change that.I’m also uncomfortable with how he’s become one of them. Yeah, Duplass treated him like shit, but Mailin’s joined the other team. It’s beyond obvious. He’s not the high school hacker buddy I used to know.Unfortunately, there’s an uncomfortable parallel there with my own life. I watched Mailin get caught as a teenager. As a result, I’ve walked the straight and narrow ever since. I got my college degree, a pat on my head from society, then a nice, safe job at an internet security firm…Until I met an international art thief and started hacking again.I’m not just talking abo
THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR Chapter 62
He leads me by the hand into the glass-enclosed penthouse, which is as dark as the roof outside. We pass by shapes in the darkness – luxurious leather sofas and chairs and tables – until we reach a bedroom with a king-size bed. Grant pulls me inside the room and shuts the door. I let him kiss me everywhere on my body as his fingers loosen pieces of my clothing, one by one.Before I know it, I am standing naked in front of him, while he still wears his pants and shirt. I feel an erotic charge in the imbalance; I feel vulnerable yet sexy, an object of desire, nude in front of this man I desire so much.He pulls back the sheets and then lifts me onto the bed. As I lie there on my back, he parts my legs and begins kissing my belly… then my thighs… then the spot where my legs meet my body. I sigh and close my eyes and grip my fingers in his hair, urging him to go where I want to feel him most – but he resists.I playfully force him towards my pussy – but he refuses to kiss me. I can feel
THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR Chapter 63
Going back to Marcel’s restaurant is basically the most brutal return to reality ever.As we return to the restaurant hideaway, it hits me square in the face: this is really happening. I’m leaving. And I don’t know if I’ll ever see Grant again.I am on the verge of tears the rest of the morning.JP and Dominique are moving to the new safe house ahead of Grant. He will drop me off with the smuggler first, but after that, he’ll join his friends… without me.I don’t have anything to pack, so I just concentrate on tying up what few loose ends I can. At Grant’s request, I transfer three million to an offshore account for Marcel. Then I set up a string of smaller accounts that Grant can access – or give access to – in order to pay anyone who might help him.I back up the laptop to a secret server – all the bank account information, plus the GPS tracking program I wrote. It’s someplace Epicurus will never find, and even if he could, any attempt to hack the files will cause them to overwrite
THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR Chapter 64
When JP hears what I want, he flat out refuses. “No.”I lean over the desk. “JP… if you don’t tell me what they’re saying, I’m going to walk down into the main restaurant and find somebody who will. And if I can’t find them in the fucking restaurant, I’m going to go out in the street and find somebody there.”He looks at me fearfully. I wouldn’t do it. No way. It would be insanity. Suicide. What I would do is upload the audio to an outsourcing service and get it translated that way. But he doesn’t know that – and with my red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, I’m pretty sure I look just unhinged enough to follow through on my threats.“We both know you didn’t sign up for this,” I say. “I get it. You hate being part of somebody else’s love triangle. But I’m leaving in a few minutes, and you’re never going to see me again, so either you tell me what they’re saying, or I go find somebody who will.”He looks at me worriedly for a few seconds more… then gives in.“Putain d’merde, this is a ba
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