Page 65 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire
I sighed, took three steps, and sat next to her.
“I’m sending an email,” I told her, opening the laptop. “To Nico Morrelli.”
We did some research. Per the dark web, Nico Morrelli was our best bet at getting new identities. New passports. New life.
One tiny problem. The cost.
I didn’t know how much it cost to obtain new identities, but I was certain it was in the upper thousands, not lower thousands. Per person. And there were three of us. How did I plan to pay for it? I had no fucking idea. I hoped for some kind of payment plan.
“So we’re doing it?” Billie asked quietly.
I met my sister’s eyes. “I don’t think we have a choice.”
“I can’t believe those assholes are charging us a million in interest,” she muttered. “If those diamonds were so valuable, they shouldn’t have left them sitting around.”
I let out a heavy sigh. Silence buzzed through the tiny hotel room. And so, I asked the question. The one that had been burning on my tongue ever since we ran from Ghana, like fugitives in the middle of the night.
“Why did you take that bag?” I sputtered. “Even if you thought they were fake diamonds, why would you take them?”
The sounds of D.C.’s nightlife shattered the quiet that should have been a respite for us. The noise of honking, even shrill laughter and shouting, came through the closed windows. And then there was the constant whine of the police sirens slicing through the night.
The last bit was a reminder of how far we’d strayed from the right path.
Billie’s brown eyes met mine. They glimmered with tears. “I thought we’d be able to buy Dad’s hospital back with that money,” she said, her voice full of anguish. “So you could treat patients, I could design clothes and jewelry, and we could raise Ares together. We were happy on the French Riviera.”
My lungs tightened, and every breath closed them a bit more. Billie had done it for us, but it backfired. The guilt slithered its way through my chest. Billie knew who Ares’s father was, but she didn’t know that it was my fault we lost the hospital. I never told her about my encounter with Senator Ashford and his threats that he clearly fulfilled.
“We were happy there,” I acknowledged. “You’ve done too much for me, Billie. Now, let me fix this.”
We had to face the consequences. Not that it mattered, because I had already decided we’d meet Nico Morrelli. If that didn’t work, I’d go to Byron Ashford.
But we’d do it together. We were in this together.
* * *
“I still can’t believe he answered your email,” Billie said, her voice suspicious as we stood in front of the building in downtown D.C. The Morrelli empire extended to both legal and illegal areas of business.
This building happened to be part of his legal business. Cassidy Tech. Worldwide Cassidy. And others, but who had the time or energy to be impressed.
Right now, we just needed a ticket to freedom. If it were up to me, I’d have been here at 8:00 a.m. However, waking Billie after we’d stayed up most of the night was a task in itself. Not that I could blame her. In fact, as soon as our life went back to normal, it was the first thing I’d do. Buy a comfortable bed and have a week with the same bedtime as Ares.
If I could have, I would have left them both sleeping at the hotel, but we had to check out or risk being charged another night. What the fuck we’d do tonight, I had no freaking clue.
My eyes roamed over my son, then to my sister. We all looked put together, wearing warm coats and our luggage trailing behind us.
Ares was dressed in navy pants, a white shirt with a navy blazer, and loafers on his feet. He looked like a little gentleman. My sister and I were dressed in business attire. She opted for a light blue dress. Mine was white. Not the best color for February, but it was the only dress I had. It was either that or scrubs. Why did I have scrubs in my suitcase if I wasn’t working? I had no freaking idea. Maybe I hoped it’d all work out and I’d be able to get back to my career.
I took a deep breath in and then exhaled. “Maybe our luck is about to turn.” I really hoped so, or we’d all be dead. “Let me do all the talking, Billie. We don’t want to give him too much information.”
She nodded, and we entered Worldwide Cassidy. Hand in hand. Prepared for anything but hoping for one thing.
A new life.
The grand lobby of the building welcomed us, in all its marble glory. TV monitors following stocks over the world markets were used as accents. Flashes of news sped across the bottom of the screen.
Billie and I shared a glance. This wasn’t the world we were used to. Before our mother died, we’d spent our time in the back of the runway shows, admiring all the pretty clothes. When Mom died, we moved to France, and our time was either helping Dad in the hospital or hanging on the beach.
The corporate world was like a whole different universe.
