Page 50 of Claimed By My Billionaire Ex

Any updates?

We both had iPhones, which meant our texts should have gone through blue. But when the green bubble popped up, my heart sank. That could only have happened if Quinn blocked me...or if his phone had died.

I didn't like either option.

How long was I going to have to sit on this secret? How long would I have to hide this video he wanted me to steal?

A more gripping question came to mind. What was on the video?

I'd done enough of these missions to know better than to ask questions. My curiosity was always there, but I never pursued it. It was safer not to know.

But this? This was completely different.

Quinn had directly warned me that I was in danger. And even more so, he'd told me that I needed to keep the video instead of destroying it. Which meant only one thing: he expected that there might come a day when someone figured out I was the hacker. I don't know if Quinn had meant Lucas or someone else, but the implication was obvious.

If someone discovered that I was the culprit, chances were that I'd be safer if I could return it instead of saying I'd destroyed it. But what if those people wouldn't care? What if they'd kill me just for stealing it? I needed a backup plan. I needed security.

I needed to make a copy. It would be something I could hold over their head, a type of life insurance where I can say that if they hurt me, then the video would be released.

And inevitably, if I was going to make a copy and hold it against them, then I might as well be aware of the contents inside the file.

My heart was pounding as I lunged for my backpack in the corner of the room. My computer was an older version of an Apple computer that I'd hacked into. I'd created my own type of security measures that protected anything I put onto it.

Darting to the bathroom with my computer, I locked the door but left the light off, and crawled onto the counter. Pushing open the ceiling vent, I reached inside for the USB I'd hidden.

I connected my headphones and slid onto the tile floor, opening my computer in my lap. Plugging the USB in, I held my breath, my heart pounding so fast that my chest started to hurt.

It took a moment, but then the files popped up on the desktop. It took me about half an hour to break into all five of them, the codes more difficult than other software I'd hacked into before.

Three of them were empty—misleading distractions, something I'd seen before. The fourth folder was the copy of an email.

Dear Mayor Isaacsand Senator Carter,

I was hired by my business partner to secretly film you when we partied at the Hilton last week. Surprise, surprise, I'm not just some whore you picked up. Neither my partner, nor I, expected to see how idiotic you both are. Because of the information you revealed in the video, my partner and I will release this video to the public if you don't deposit the amount of four hundred thousand dollars into an account I will be sending to you in the next few weeks. If you both value your careers, then you will continue to obey my wishes.

Speak soon.

I grippedthe computer so hard that my fingers started to hurt and hovered my fingers over the mousepad.

There would be no going back over this. But now, at least, I would be prepared.

I reached down and pressed play.

A black and white image of a fancy hotel room popped up on the screen. I could hear faint sounds in the headphones, which slowly got louder as two men stumbled into the room.

They were well-dressed in suits, their ties loose around their neck. A topless woman stood between them, but from this angle, I couldn’t see her face. She strolled to a table and dropped a bag of white powder onto the surface. As she separated them into three lines, she glanced over her shoulder where the two men were drunkenly pouring drinks at the bar in the back.

Then she rolled up a hundred dollar bill. "Boys, the fun is ready."

The two men, who I now recognized as Mayor Jessie Isaacs and Senator Carter, strolled toward the screen. I watched as they both did a line of coke.

My shoulders slumped. This? This was what they were so fucking worried about? Drugs and prostitutes?

I mean...yeah, it wouldn't look great for their political careers. But politicians had been voted in after worse things had happened to them.

But then Senator Carter started talking. "So we're good with everything. My guy said he'll make it work."

Jessie Isaacs glanced at the woman. "Honey, can you get me another drink?"

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