Page 37 of Chasing Paradise

“Oh my God,” Violet groaned, the sound going right to my dick before I could stop it. I turned to find her with her fork still raised and her eyes closed as she chewed. “I can’t tell if this is just that good, or if I’m just that hungry.”

“Maybe both,” I said, reaching for my plate and fork, even though I had no appetite.

“So, I get the feeling you’re buttering me up with a nice shower and decent food because you’re about to say something you know I don’t want to hear.”

“That about sums it up.”

“I know you don’t exactly know me well, but I’m not someone who likes to have to pry information out of people.”

“Rather beat it out of them, huh?”

She tried hard to keep those plump lips of hers in a straight line, but they twitched until she lost the fight and the smile spread.

“You’re not exactly wrong. But… What is this place? Why are we here? What are you hiding?”

Easy stuff first.

“This is Ilsa Perdita. The Lost Island,” I told her as she plowed through her food with impressive gusto. “It’s a private island.”

“A private island. Like billionaires have?”

“Exactly like that,” I said. “My grandfather, who bought it, was a billionaire until his death. He left the land to me. I built on it.”

“Why? As a hideout from the law?”

“Built it before all that. Always meant for it to be a vacation spot. It’s fully off-grid. Solar, compost, I even planted some trees other than the local ones. Avocados and papaya, like they grow on the other islands.”

“How’d you have time to do all that while engaging in white-collar crimes in the States?”

I sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, reminding myself that in her line of work, Violet likely dealt with hundreds of people who claimed they were innocent, who said they were set up or whatever other sob story they wanted to feed her to get sympathy.

The difference here was, I was actually innocent. So I needed to act like it. Not be defensive and short-tempered. Even if she seemed to really respond to aggression.

“After my grandfather passed, my great-uncle took over the company. I… opted to get the hell out of there and explore the world on my trust fund.”

“Trust fund. Fancy.”

She was trying to goad me into a fight. But I wasn’t biting.

“I ended up here. Worked on the plans to build. Until one day, I got word that my grandfather’s company was working on something that interested me.”

“What’s that?”

“Eco resorts.”

“What the hell is an eco resort?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. Eco-friendly resorts in locations known for eco-tourism.”

“What areas are known for eco-tourism?”

“There are some in the States. But it’s mostly Costa Rica, various islands, and the Amazon rainforest. The latter was what my grandfather’s company was working on.”

“Okay. Is this the insider trading part?”

“I got interested in the venture. So I flew back to the States, started sitting in on meetings, learning about the plans, investing a fuckton of money in stocks. I really believed in the mission.”

“Okay,” she said, looking less suspicious and more interested.