Page 27 of Queen Of Dark Money

“Thisone does,”Ihuffed, irritated that she’d doubt me simply becauseIwas loaded now. “Yougot a problem with that?”

“Noooo,” she dragged out, giving me a shot of her ass in that tight dress as she searched the cabinets for something easy. “ButIdoubt you wanna cook now, being as drunk as you are.AndI’mnot in the mood to supervise you around an open flame in your state.”

“Who’sthe captive here?”Myeyes searched her as she retrieved a box from my snack cabinet, clutching it to her chest like a fucking prize.Ifelt my brows furrow asIregistered what she’d retrieved.

Myimported chocolate biscuits.

Oh,hellno.

“Putthose back.”

Sheglanced at the box of cookies in her arms, then back up to me, sizing me up.

Iwas drunk, but not so drunkIcouldn’t see the wheels turning in her head.Iknew what was coming before she bolted, butIwasn’t fast enough.Theutter lack of balance worked against me as she darted off with the box in her hands, racing up the stairs and heading for the bedrooms.

Damn, how was she so fucking fast in those damn heels?

Iscrambled up the stairs and reached the top just as my bedroom door slammed and locked me out.Witha swear that wasn’t fit for polite company,Idog-walked on hands and knees to my door, reaching up to bang insistently on it in frustration.

“Ifyou eat all my fucking biscuits,I’llkick your ass,”Ithreatened, but even to my ears, it sounded hollow.

Resigned, frustrated, and now hungry myself,Islumped to the floor outside my door and got comfortable, prepared to wait her out even as my nausea and headache reared their ugly asses back up in the silence.

Itwould be a long evening.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

KENZIE

Cookies.I’dbeen surrounded by all manner of fucking food and snacks, andIgrabbed a damn box of chocolate biscuits and made a break for it.

Dudewas sloshed out of his mind, butIstill teased him, enjoying the way he fought for control of the situation even though he was three sheets to the wind.Hecould barely stand up and had puked into his sink, but there he stood, in front of that fridge likeGodalmighty, presenting his smorgasbord of foodstuffs to me like a fucking king taunting the peasant.

Now, he was snoring outside the door, no doubt drooling on his expensive carpet.

Servedhim right.

Itook a wrong turn and ended up in his room instead of the guest room he’d put me in, butIdidn’t care.Iwasn’t interested in taking out the knifeIknew he’d stashed somewhere around here, nor wasItempted to hunt through his things for another weapon.Hehadn’t hurt me, and he didn’t kidnap me technically.Plus, with the way his head would hurt in the morning,Ididn’t envy him the over-indulgence, and almost felt bad for him.Ididn’t imagine a billionaire like him got wasted often.Andif hedid, he probably didn’t get locked out of his own room when he was.

Ohwell.

Ididn’t choose to be here.Hecould suffer.Itwasn’t likeI’dbe here long.Someonewas bound to callEddyup and ask for a ransom, and he’d pay up, and they’d hand me off, and that would be that.AndthenEddyandIcould have a nice, long talk about what the actual fuck he had gotten me into.

Itmight’ve been different if he’d told me what the fuck to expect.Buthe most definitely had blindsided me with the real reason for this fucking job.AndIwas pissed.

Ismashed the whole fucking box of biscuits on my own, sitting in the middle of this asshole’s bed, getting crumbs literally everywhere without a care in the world.Hesnored away through it all, and then, about an hour into sitting there staring at the wall,IdecidedIwas done being bored and slipped off the edge of the bed, determined to go hunt up something entertaining to keep me occupied.

Ifound his phone on a nightstand, but it was password-protected, of course.Noteven fingerprint locked, which would have been easy to get around with him unconscious on the floor.Iset it back whereI’dfound it, irritated that it hadn’t been easy to solve my issue, and marched down the stairs, heading for his office.

Thecomputer there was locked, too.Gofigure.Itried a few random passwords, but nothing worked, and eventually,Igave up.Therest of the house was also locked down tight, and dude didn’t even have a fucking tv to speak of in the place.Like, with all the money in the world, you forget to buy entertainment?

Ofcourse, he probably went to like the country club or something and spent his weekends entertaining high-value clients and hookers of all price ranges.

Isn’tthat what rich dudes did?

Iwasn’t exactly an expert on them.

Eddyhadn’t had aTV, either, come to think of it.Maybeit was aKhulaCitything.

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