Page 38 of Falling for the Grump Billionaire

Just as we’re finalizing our plan, Dominic’s phone buzzes. He glances at the screen, his expression darkening as he answers.

“Adrian,” he says, his tone clipped.

I watch as his face hardens, the lines of tension deepening around his mouth. “What do you mean, he’s gone?”

I sit up straighter, my pulse quickening.

Dominic listens for a moment, then stands abruptly, pacing the room. “Find him. I don’t care how long it takes—find him.”

When he ends the call, I’m already on my feet. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Conrad,” he says, his voice tight. “He’s gone off the grid.”

My stomach drops. “And that’s bad because…?”

“Because,” Dominic says, his eyes blazing with fury, “there’s been another breach. And this time, it’s worse than anything we’ve seen.”

The weight of his words presses down on me, but I force myself to focus. “What do we do now?” I ask, my voice steady despite the storm brewing in my chest.

Dominic’s gaze sharpens, his resolve cutting through the tension like a knife. “We keep following the trail. And this time, we don’t stop until we end this.”

His words settle over me, heavy and unrelenting. And for the first time since this all began, I feel a flicker of hope that we might actually stand a chance.

The air in the penthouse feels electric, charged with the weight of Dominic’s revelation. My mind churns, trying to process everything. Conrad has disappeared. There’s another breach, and this one could directly implicate Dominic. The pieces of thisnightmare are falling into place, but the picture they’re forming is darker and more dangerous than I could’ve imagined.

Dominic is already moving, grabbing his laptop and phone as he fires off a rapid string of orders. His voice is calm but lethal, a sharp edge of determination beneath the surface.

“Adrian,” he says into the phone, pacing by the window. “I need eyes on all Conrad’s known connections. Family, friends, anyone he’s had contact with in the last six months. If he’s gone dark, he didn’t do it alone.”

He ends the call, his jaw tight, and turns to me. “We need to act fast. Whoever’s behind this isn’t just after Kane Enterprises anymore. They’re escalating because they think they’ve backed us into a corner.”

“Have they?” I ask, hating the crack in my voice.

His eyes meet mine, a mix of steel and something softer. “Not yet. But we’re running out of time.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “What do you need me to do?”

“Keep digging,” he says without hesitation. “If Blackwell’s involved, we need a clear connection to him and Conrad. You’ve already found more in a few hours than some of my team has in weeks. We need to build on that.”

I hesitate, glancing at the laptop on the coffee table. “Dominic… what if we’re wrong? What if this isn’t about Blackwell?”

His gaze sharpens, and he steps closer, the intensity in his expression making it hard to breathe. “If it’s not Blackwell, then we’ll find out who it is. But until we do, he’s our best lead.”

His confidence is unsettling, but it’s also infectious. I sink back onto the couch, my fingers flying across the keyboard as I dive deeper into the web of shell companies and offshore accounts. Dominic works beside me, his presence a steady, grounding force even as the minutes tick by in tense silence.

Hours later, a breakthrough finally comes—not from me, but from Adrian. Dominic’s phone buzzes, and he answers immediately, putting the call on speaker.

“We’ve got something,” Adrian says, his voice tight with urgency. “Conrad’s last known location was pinged at an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. But that’s not the interesting part.”

“What is?” Dominic demands, already grabbing his jacket.

“The warehouse was leased six months ago by a shell company tied to—wait for it—Blackwell Industries.”

I glance at Dominic, my heart racing. He doesn’t say anything, but the look on his face is enough to make my stomach twist. If this lead pans out, it could be the connection we need to take Blackwell down—or it could be another trap.

“Send me the address,” Dominic says, his voice clipped. He ends the call and looks at me. “You’re not coming.”

“Excuse me?” I say, standing. “You think I’m just going to sit here while you walk into God knows what?”

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