Page 47 of My Fake Billionaire Damaged Boyfriend

“You watch yourself, and keep her back,” Mccoy hollers in reply, pointing at me as I curl into Dimitri’s arms carefully. “She’s interfering now, and I’ll have you both arrested for real in a minute if you don’t—”

“Boss, look at this,” one of the other agents says breathlessly, pulling his focus. “You need to read this.”

Mccoy snarls as he gives me a warning of a look, Dimitri leaning in to read the words, but I push him back, all the way to the doorway, just so he doesn’t see it. He’s starting to get just as frustrated, confusion weaving his wonderful, masculine features together in utter agitation.

“What are you doing, Kitten? Stop that.”

“I don’t… want you… to read… that…” I say between hard attempts to get him out of the room. He doesn’t listen, and I can understand why, but I’m trying to protect him!

“Someone, get me everything that has to do with this claim right now!” Mccoy says, his voice unkind. He turns around at once, grabbing my arm and yanking me to the side so my back hits the wall, his face nearly in mine as he lowers his voice. “What did you do? Who is on the other end of this system?”

“I don’t know! I was just sitting there, and it started typing. Someone must be in the software code like I am, and they are trying to help, but—”

“What the hell?”

Dimitri’s voice caves at last, and I feel sick to my stomach as I watch him standing before the screen, reading line of text after horrendous line of text that I know he wasn’t aware of before.

I wish it wasn’t true, but it seems to be the reality now.

He turns to see me, teary-eyed and trembling. “What is this?”

“Someone knows something,” I whisper, tears crawling down my face as I reply. “I didn’t know, Dimitri. I didn’t want you to get hurt, I didn’t want you to read it.”

He shakes his head, furious more at the world than at me, but it feels the same. He turns and storms out of the room at once, my heart ripped out of my chest as it’s dragged with him. Mccoy pushes his hand against my shoulder, pinning my back to the wall when I try to go after him.

“You, stay put. I’m going to have you run diagnostics to see who is making this claim. In the meantime, I’ll make sure he’s put in a place where he can calm down for a while.”

“I need to be with him,” I plead through my tears. “Please, just let me—”

“No. This is a federal investigation, and someone is interfering with information that could be fake, or could be real. We need to know the truth sooner rather than later. You’re going to sit down and look through that interference and see who is in the system with us. I will have my men dig around to see if that information is true or not.”

I let my head fall slightly. “He needs me right now.”

“He needs a break, and I suggest you help figure out the truth. If what that person is claiming holds even a drop of water, then we will have to formally charge Alek Ivica with murder.”

My body winces at that word.

Murder.

The murder of an innocent man. The murder of a person that I’m sure did nothing, absolutely nothing, but stand in the way of someone else’s greed, and lost their life in return. It hardly seems fair, but that’s the gist of such an ugly word.

Murder.

The murder of the man I love’s father.

I can only imagine what Dimitri is going through right now, and I wish I could make this better, but I don’t know how. Someone has broken into the code I’ve been rummaging through in search for the back door, and instead left a breadcrumb of information that could blow open this entire ordeal even more than I thought possible.

It’s a new lead, a new thread I have to follow, and it pains me to think that I have put up with finding this truth out among the rest. I’m a coder. I’m not a negotiator or some alley that speaks through the cyber world about the alleged murder of Dimitri’s father.

He hasn’t even talked about his dad to me, and I’ve never known anything other than what Alek told me.

Dimitri’s father was Alek’s business partner, they developed this software together, and Dimitri doesn’t have a dad.

I feel queasy with nervousness, and I clutch my stomach in utter frustration. This can’t happen. This just… this just can’t be true.

“Sit down and stay put,” Mccoy bites in warning, shoving me into my desk chair. I watch him leave, barking at other agents to go wrangle the man I love.

I realize now I should have told him that earlier. He should know I love him, and that I want to help him, but that I was too afraid of him seeing that claim put so bluntly on the computer screen. It might be a lie, though. It might be a prank, and I hold out on that hope with everything I have.

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