Page 2 of The Next Door Billionaire's Deception

Before I can give her a response, one of the movers passes by, and I spot the logo on one of the boxes he’s carrying.A white hawk!It belongs to Emerald Inc., the company I’m trying to merge with.

That’s when it clicks.What the heck is going on here?

The image of her in a skirt and shirt with her hair pinned up is different from the woman before me, but she’s the same, nonetheless.

Melissa Durham, CEO of Emerald Inc.? The woman who dines with the board of men and hides their crimes behind a smokescreen of philanthropy … No way this is a coincidence!No way in hell.

She mumbles more commands to one of the movers by her far left. He's a pot-bellied man with a weird-looking mustache that makes him look like a typical circus clown. His belly jerks as he nods to the instruction being murmured by the boss lady. That’s exactly what she is. There's no better explanation for her display of superiority over every single person, including me.

“So, Mr. Neighbor, while the movers help me help you reduce the noise, can you at least exhibit some bit of courtesy by, you know, showing me around?” She stands with her arms akimbo, her lips curving into a smile.

“Is that how you roll?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes and cocks her head. Her raven-black hair gimmers under the light as she runs her finger through it.

“You've got a different way of rolling here?”

“Yes, we have a different way of rolling here. Everyone in this building has some sense of courtesy –”

“And I don't?” she asks, stepping aside like I’m some monster who’s about to pounce on her.

“I wouldn't give a yes for an answer, but you sure have got it all wrong. You move in on your first day, and you wake everyone up. I call for peace, and you ask me to get my ears blocked.”

“But that can help the noise not get across to you. Can't it?” She raises her palms, shrugging. “I was only trying to help.”

I adjust the helm of my pajamas and glare at her before turning to the busy movers. None of them are eavesdropping.

“If you ask me. I won't hesitate to clarify that what you’re putting up doesn't show any sign of good neighborliness.”

I swing around and head for my door without giving her a chance to say something, but then she does—like a stiff lump, the rage in me hits the walls of my throat.

“Richard Burnes.”

Her words stop me in my tracks.Did she call my name?

“What did you just call me?”

I turn to her, my eyes are wide open. She inches closer and pulls a smirk.

“He told me your name … Ruben … the agent who secured me the apartment," she says in a tone softer than she’s sounded since we began talking.

Ruben.The name sounds familiar. I recall hearing about him when I bought the apartment, but I never saw him. He wasn't the one in charge.What else does he know about me? What other things has he told her?

“You look quite surprised. You didn't expect anyone around here to know your name or something?”

“That's not it.”

“Then what?” Her tone is sharp and authoritative. Perhaps she's forgotten that she’s not talking to one of the movers but me. I splay my hands and make to explain, but she switches her posture and studies me, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“You just moved in. We've never met. And then, boom, you call me by my name. Anyone would find that surprising.”

Her smile turns sly, and at that moment, I catch a glimpse of the beauty in her soft smile, the motion of her curving light-pink oxbow lips, and the even set of snow-white teeth. They all seem alluring, a perfect sight to behold. I have no idea why I didn't see these earlier.

“Well, that makes sense. I thought you were some ghost who doesn't expect anyone to know a thing about him.”

“Not particularly.”

I grunt and glare at the movers. I can't say why but the sudden change in my temperament sets me aback. Some minutes ago, I felt like snapping at her for being careless with her words. Now, I see her from a completely different lens, and I'm curious to know what could be the cause.

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