Page 63 of My Cruel Billionaire

“You see, I told each team member they have an urgent meeting where they are supposed to bring that incriminating report.” I chuckled at my own cleverness. “Only, I told them each to go to a different floor.”

“What does this mean for us?”

“Well, I picked this spot because we can see the elevators clearly and take note of which floors they stop at.”

“There are six people waiting in six different rooms on six different floors, aren’t there?” he said with his mouth open in awe.

I grinned ear to ear.

“You bet your sweet ass that’s what’s going down. Only one of the people I gave the fake report to was the mole. Therefore, the cops will be going to one and only one location in this building.”

The cops stopped at the fourteenth floor and got out. I watched without surprise as they went around the corner and disappeared down a hallway.

“This floor has a member of my team,” I said simply. Michael looked at me sharply, then nodded.

“You see, Jenna? I was right all along. It was a member of your team.”

“Keep watching,” I said. “And take notice of the elevator. Do you notice anything… unusual about it, Michael?”

He frowned and looked back at the glass, lighted elevator car. His mouth gaped open when he saw what I wanted him to see.

“The rest of the cops and agents are still going up,” he said.

“You got it,” I said cheerfully. “Gold star for you, Michael.”

The elevator reached the twenty-eighth floor, and the rest of the agents swarmed off.

“Just for your information,” I said with exaggerated casualness, just to irk Michael a little more. "This is the floor where one of your team members is expected to be.”

“I don’t understand.” Michael shook his head. “There are two moles?”

“I kind of suspected this,” I said. “Though I didn’t think I would turn out to be right. It turns out that there were moles on both of our teams. We were both compromised, Michael. What do you think of that? This explains the leaks, the stolen documents from your safe, the botched report and anonymous tips to IRS.”

He fell silent for a long time, staring at the elevators as they went up and down. At length I spoke.

“So, do you think you can take care of the moles now? Now that I’ve pointed them out to you?”

He turned to me and nodded.

“Yes, I can handle it now. Iwillhandle it now,” he said, eyes growing dark. Then his expression softened a great deal and he faced me once again.

“But before I deal with those traitors and saboteurs, there’s one thing I must take care of first. It’s vitally important.”

“What is that?” I asked. “I would have thought you’d be itching to pull the trigger on catching the moles.”

“There is something more important than that. I must apologize to you.”

I did a double-take. Then I pinched my arm, hard, and yelped.

“What are you doing?” Michael asked.

“I’m pinching myself to see if I’m dreaming. Michael Wallace, apologize? Never, not in a million years.”

I shook my head in disbelief.

“In fact, Michael, have you ever apologized to anyone in your entire life before this moment?”

“I don’t know,” he said, and I believed him. “I’m sure I’ve apologized at some point or another. But it has been a very long time. But you deserve my apology, Jenna. I’m sorry.”

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