Page 39 of Million Dollar High

Shaking, she dropped the phone and rushed to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before she vomited the meager contents of her stomach. She heaved over and over until there was nothing left.

As she sagged against the cold porcelain, too weak to get up and wash her mouth, her anger grew.

Fuck Stephen Willoughby. Fuck him all the way to a hell where men like him were fucked in the ass with spikes just for entertainment. He wouldn’t get a cent from her. If she needed to, she would spend every dollar of that fifty million bringing the man who’d made her life hell to justice.

Getting up, she finished dressing and went downstairs. The doorman held the door open. About to order a cab, she paused when a tall, middle-aged man with greying hair approached her.

“Hey there, Miss. I’m the car service you ordered.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t order a car service.”

“I’m sure you did. You’re headed to the office, right? I can have you there in less than twenty.”

He attempted a smile, but her instinct told her this guy wasn’t used to that particular social grace. And although helooked nondescript enough to be dismissed by most people, there was an air of ruthlessness about him. Plus, he seemed familiar somehow. Her eyes widened as her mind connected the dots. “You were the guy outside the restaurant on Sunday night. You work for Noah.”

He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “I cannot confirm nor deny that.”

“What’s your name?”

“Call me Paddy.”

She eyed him and the luxury town car door he held open for her. “That’s not your real name, is it? And that’s not your car.” This guy would be more comfortable in a blacked-out van, not one that screamed high-profile billionaire.

“Doesn’t matter one way or the other. I doubt we’ll be seeing each other again after today. Get in the car, Miss. We’re beginning to attract an audience.”

She looked around. The only person interested in them was the doorman. About to refuse, she stopped when her phone pinged. Heart hammering, she glanced warily at her phone.

Get in the car. N.

Relief weakened her limbs. Sliding into the back, she put on her seatbelt and waited for Paddy to get behind the wheel. “What can I do for you, Paddy?”

“My employer wants to know if you’ve heard anything from our mutual friend.”

The fact that Noah hadn’t called to ask her himself sent a shaft of pain through her, despite the very sane argument that this was exactly what she’d been striving for.

“Would he believe me if I said no?”

Shrewd eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. “Depends if that’s the truth or not.”

Leia’s eyes slid away at the memory of the video. “I received something this morning.”

Paddy nodded and stopped at a traffic light. He passed her a grey rectangular gadget about the size of a small smart phone.

“Hold this against your phone for ten seconds. It’ll give me what I need.”

Leia blinked and shook her head. The idea of the video falling into a stranger’s hands made nausea rise. “I’d rather not do that.”

The lights changed. Paddy’s gaze returned to the road. “The gizmo’s already capturing everything on your phone, Miss. Holding it closer will make it work faster.” His eyes connected with hers again. “I assume you want your stepfather found?”

Swallowing thickly, she nodded.

“I already know almost everything he did to you. The bastard needs to be put down, fast.” Hard, unapologetic words.

Suppressing a shiver, she pulled her phone out of her purse and did as she was told. Several minutes later, he pulled up in front of her office. “One last thing. We can’t protect you if you insist on wearing disguises and leaving via back entrances. You’re giving him the power that way. Same as you will be if you pay him off.”

“I don’t intend to pay him off, but I’d like to pay for your services to help catch him?—”

He shook his head. “It’s already taken care of.”

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