Page 25 of My Fake Billionaire Damaged Boyfriend

My heart is practically in my throat, and I cling to my arm like I have been all damn day. Everything hurts, though, not just the deep navy bruise on my forearm. My head is in a tizzy since this morning after replaying the many times that Alek walked by my office door like nothing happened earlier—it haunts me.

The elevator door dings open, and I gasp aloud, catching Dimitri as he takes two steps into the penthouse. My arms snuggly fits around his sides and he seems to reciprocate the hug at first before pulling away in mild bewilderment. His fingertips stroke my cheek, and I feel at home in his caress.

“What’s going on, Kitten? Why are you here?” He pulls away first, dropping his brown leather messenger bag and blazer jacket on the couch nearby. By the time I steady my inhale and approach him, ready to spew my guts over the horrors of today, his eyes catch my arm, “What the fuck happened?”

His hand takes my wrist, and I subdue a flinch. Although, it’s not a very good attempt, because I know he feels my reaction, but I’m so thankful he doesn’t mention it.

“It’s a long story,” I mutter, bringing my arm back into my possession.

He takes a different approach, ushering me to the bedroom where he hikes me upwards, making me sit on the countertop in the ensuite bathroom. While I dangle my legs lazily, he brings out a little white packet that he rolls between his hands and then presses onto my arm.

I hiss through my grit teeth, “That’s so cold.”

“I know it is,” he replies, “That’s why it’s there. Now, while you hold that there, I’m going to wrap some tape around it, and you’re going to tell me what happened.”

Swallowing hard, I knew this would be a conversation when I came over here, so I might as well spill it now. It just scares me to think of Alek’s threat, let alone, to side with the man that is his biggest rival.

“Alek had these guys in the office. They were tearing everything up and ruining everyone’s computers. He was looking for a hacker, someone who had broken into the backdoor of his software.”

He eyes me while twirling the gauze tape around my forearm, pinning the cold pack to my skin, “What did you say to him, Izzy?”

“I didn’t say anything. He told me if I didn’t do what he said, when he said it, the shareholders would come after me.”

He turns, a noticeable chill striking down his spine, “Okay, go on. What did you do next?”

“Well, he kept checking on me throughout the day, so I had to pretend like I knew what I was doing. I couldn’t use my coding helper, so I had to do it manually.”

He turns his head sideways across his shoulder, washing his hands in the sink nearby, “Please tell me you didn’t break in for him.”

“No, of course not,” I gust, “At least… not yet. I have to do something, Dimitri. Besides, without my software breaker, it will take me three days to shift through that much code to find the engine again. I think even Alek knows that. So, we have to set up a diversion.”

His brows crease while he comes to a stiff stand, his back turned into a board while I toy with the tape on my arm, “I have a VPN. It can hide anything that comes off my computer, so he’d never get the IP address and trace it back to here.”

“Well, not exactly,” I whisper.

He stalks closer to me, his finger brushing under my chin, so I’m forced to stare up at his magnifying blue eyes. Melting into his complex irises, I swallow gallons of water while I’m sucked under the surface of tumultuous waves. It knocks around my throat like a pinball machine, making me waver under his intensity, and swoon against his warm surface.

“Kitten, tell me something. Can you trace our hack back to my penthouse, or not?”

Biting my bottom lip, I can only nod.

“Even with a shield up, like a VPN?”

Again, I nod.

“Fuck,” he snarls, “Fuck, fuck—”

“But I have an idea,” I say, cutting his tantrum short, “If we can break in again, and really do some damage while we’re inside, then he will want me to tracethathacker down and not the one from earlier.”

“How, though? We can’t use my computer again.”

“No, but we can use someone else’s. Someone’s who was made far before IP addresses even existed.”

He seems intrigued. “Okay, then. Where are we going?”

“My place.”

CHAPTER11

---